Memories of a unidirectional relationship

Those who knew Prof. Dilip Veeraraghavan most probably know by now that he passed away four days ago after battling with cancer for a few months. I am not going to write about him - if he were to be the subject, then I would perform badly in my job of writing this; I am instead going to write about my relationship with him, or perhaps the lack of it.

I, like many other students, first met Dilip on the first day of my third semester. It took me a few days to figure out that he had no eyesight - I was certain that no one could be so confident on his feet if he were fully blind. Days later, I asked my first question in class - something that attempted to disprove his conclusion that India was not a nation.

He made me realize that there is a lot to read, and so I started reading biographies of people who played a part in the Indian National Movement: Maulana Azad, Nehru, Patel, Prasad, Gandhi, Satyamurti etc.

That year, I spent a lot of time in his room. When not preoccupied with arguing, I would read out articles to him or write some CDs for his personal use. We could talk outside social science, so we would talk about music, or my family or institute politics. I was gradually turning libertarian - something that probably amused him. Adamant as I was to hold on to my opinions, I guess he let me be. Surely I wasn't the first person who had come to him and recite the libertarian manifesto unthinkingly. Dilip probably had hundreds of students like me before him. Many of them were still in touch with him.

As I started getting more comfortable with him at a personal level, he started giving me some sort of advice - very little of it, and all of it completely justified. But my puffed up head could take no advice, and I was beginning to get into a shell otherwise too. Which meant that I started visiting Dilip less often. More classes were bunked, so there were fewer free hours in between classes to spend with Dilip.

And suddenly, there came a day when I became okay with the idea of meeting Dilip just once every two months or so. I was no longer helping him out with his CDs, or his reading, or anything else for that matter.

The last time I met him was just before I was leaving the institute after finishing my project-work. I imagine that I rattled on and on about my upcoming trip to the north-east. After that, when I heard he was seriously ill, I considered calling him many times. I even called once, but he was away in the hospital. And then it went off my mind, until I got the terrible news...

It is no coincidence that all I have talked about is myself. Because that's how it was with Dilip. His life, his requirements, his ideas and his beliefs were never the center of the discussion. Dilip was like a mirror, and you got to see yourself. That's why some of us egoists went to him perhaps, and then when the mirror also showed the wrinkles, we stopped going.

There is little I can add to the list of Dilip's qualities - others seem to be able to do some justice to it. He was a thinker of extraordinary clarity, a wonderful human being who epitomized patience, discipline, punctuality and honesty, and above all, someone who was willing to live for others. He was the worry-tree for everyone right from the Dean to a first-year student and from the greatest musician to the most insignificant rasika. And he bore the burden with great ease. At least that's how it appeared.

The amazing thing with Dilip's memory is that it does not remind particularly of Dilip - it reminds me more of myself at that time. Dilip was not particularly the kind of person to lead by example. Not that he was anything less than perfect, I only mean to say that it was not so much the example he set but the thoughts he induced which made him so special.

Sometimes I feel, if only time could move backwards...

But that is a futile thought. All that can be done is that I can try and remember how nice it was to have such a person in my life, and be that person to two or three people, if not hundreds of them.

P.S. There is a wiki that contains all blogs of people reminiscing about Dilip (http://rememberingdilip.wikispaces.com/). When I read the posts there, I feel less lonely in my guilt and sorrow.  Posted by KRC. | Permalink |