Among the Not So Great

Pranab Kumar Bhattacharya (Pranab-da)

He is great who is most often in men’s good thoughts.

This is another “Great” to be included in “Among The Not So Great”. In fact he is a colossus, on whom for long I have hesitated to write. I have pushed the event further for more than one reason.

I will begin where logically I should i.e. at the beginning. The story is long, spanning well nigh seven decades. Some memories are fresh and living. Others, long buried, are not so. One interesting fact is that he and I arrived here the same year. He in February of 1945 and I in July 1945. (I believe he had made a short visit earlier.)

Pranab-da was a well-built man — obviously exercised and familiar with the care of the body and its material needs. He carried a good head with ‘frank’ open eyes which held a strength with the reassurance of a smile. A generous nose straight and not too broad. A mouth that normally smiled along with the eyes. In short — he was handsome. The voice was stentorian without being harsh — it served him well in his work and elsewhere too. What he lacked was fear and what was extra was his temper even through this last (dis)qualification served well at times, as long as it did not take control.

Pranab-da was a good worker. His first request to the Mother was to give him some “physical” work. So he was given work in the Ashram Laundry (Blanchisserie). Back in those days all washings of its 600-700 members had to be done by sheer muscle power. To make matters more ‘interesting’ these clothes were taken out of hot soap water where they had been soaked overnight. The method followed was simple: a good two-handful of clothes were taken, dropped down forcefully on a smooth concrete slab — and hit-hit-hit (banged down) and pushed on to the next man who dipped the lot in a tub of cold water and again hit-hit-hit and passed on to the next man. This was repeated via 4-5 men. This was done early in the morning at 4.30. It was like body-building exercises (My brother and I joined in on occasions for the fun of it). This was P’s work for the first few years (I gathered as much).

Pranab-da took interest in the Play Ground activities. We had just this one ground. The interest was nothing new, for in Calcutta he was running a club where young boys could come and learn some healthy exercises, get disciplined, spend time usefully. The Play Ground was where I met him for the first time, as an 8-year-old. I was sitting in one corner of the Ground sketching a bird or an animal on the sandy ground as asked by some older boys. P approached me and asked why I was not playing. I replied in broken English that I did not know I could. He gave me permission to join the boys playing Kabaddi or King and Fortress etc. There was not much organisation into groups or of timings.

Pranab-da then took charge. He called in Biren Chunder his erstwhile mentor and a family friend. Both P and Biren Chunder were wellknown boxers in Calcutta. Biren-da was known as K.O. King. Their aim was to K.O. as many Britishers (Tommies) as they could.

Biren-da took charge of the older ones and P of the younger ones. The Mother was informed of all the goings on. Her encouragement was there in full measure. She gave a free hand to P.