I was with my teacher the whole day
It was a beautiful day, his 93rd birthday
We talked and talked and talked
Reminiscences of a beautiful past
He reminisced about his Jadavpur, Zurich, IIT days
Recalled the ETH days, the Swiss Alps,
The Swiss Fondue, the French wine
The good things of life
He so fondly remembered his closest friend
Recalled the last time he met this friend
Gripped with dementia, the friend
Could not recognize his best friend
My teacher can’t forget the pain, he saw
On the face of his friend
When my teacher was leaving home of his friend
His friend of more than six decades, came to see him off
As a parting gift, he gave him a piece of paper
In one part of the paper was written my teacher’s name
And on the other was written name of the friend
Written by a friend, to a friend, with trembling hand
I saw tears in my teacher’s eyes
Though it was time for him to go to sleep
That day, it seemed, sleep ran away from his eyes
He did not feel the need of medicines
He did not feel the pain in his knees
My teacher wanted to tell me so many stories
Stories of Natick, Pentagon, BBC, Delaware
Symposia, books, students, Kolkata, the city he grew up
He wanted to tell me stories of his mother, his brothers
He wanted to tell me stories of his wife and children
He wanted to tell me stories of his successes and failures
He wanted to tell me story of marriage
Of his favourite student with his favourite niece
He wanted to tell me stories of 9, West Avenue
The place we had so many sumptuous lunches
That day I saw so much hope in his eyes
There was despair too
They wanted to tell so many stories
I informed him about the conferment of
Life Time Achievement Award by the INAE
He said, what will I do with the awards
My students are my greatest awards
Now my students are my best guides