I have never forgotten the lesson that Guruji served up with the tea that morning: Be kind encouraging and patient with fresh starters.
Subhash K Jha mourns the passing of Pritish Nandy.
It's been more than twelve hours since I heard that Pritish Nandy, my Guruji -- that's what I called him -- has passed away. One memory of my long 45 year association keeps playing in my mind.
It was the first time I met him. I was just starting out wondering what lay ahead in a profession that was largely unknown (freelance writing). I had exchanged some letters with him, sent him my stories. He was very encouraging. He would put 2-3 of my stories and book reviews, some of them irreverent satires on film people which no one would dare publish today in both Filmfare and The Illustrated Weekly Of India.
And when my byline went missing I would send him long sulky letters. Looking back, I wonder how he tolerated me!
Gathering courage I flew down to Bombay, landed up unannounced at his office in the Times Of India building with my friend Sudhir. He was already the King Of Journalism, a superstar beyond the ones on screen. Stories of his romance with some of the most beautiful legendary actresses had wafted into my ears.
So there I was waiting outside his office. I was told, "Mr Nandy is very busy. You should have taken an appointment. Please wait."
After a good 90 minutes of waiting when my friend and I were contemplating leaving, the door of the office suddenly flew open. And there was the Man himself in all his imposing glory. "Subhaaaaash! When did you come? I have just been told you are waiting. Come come come, in."
We were ushered into the inner chamber. It felt like a temple. Tea was ordered. When it was served in glasses he rebuked the server, "Bring the tea in a pot with cups."
I have never forgotten the lesson that Guruji served up with the tea that morning: Be kind encouraging and patient with fresh starters. Shabana Azmi is the other icon who taught me this lesson. We are very close friends to this day.
With Guruji, my Guru-Shishya relationship was uninterrupted. He continued to read and encourage me long after I was no more the wide-eyed boy from Patna.
As I rummage through his recent messages the tears won't stop. In his later years he extended his love for me to my daughter Lata whose writings he would send me appreciate messages about.
His last message to me written in spite of failing health is this: "Lata is good, in fact very good as an industry watcher. She writes well too. I read her pieces that appear only online as well and, of course, like everyone else I read her in the newspaper too.
"Your writings I miss. You were so wonderfully prolific in print and stuff you write online I miss because you write for different platforms and it is difficult to keep track. But yes, I always enjoyed what you wrote and still do.'
Thank you, Guruji for making that anonymous boy from Patna feel so special with tea served from a pot. I have lost my guiding light. But the taste of that tea lingers.
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