Pranab Bhattacharya

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.

Expansion

We started with hardly any equipment to speak of. Maybe half a dozen balls, two sets of croquet and a volleyball net.

Biren-da was sent to Madras (Chennai) to buy some gym apparatus — a vaulting box, a spring-board (now old-looking to our eyes — one would hardly be able to guess that the square bucket-like wooden pieces now used as stools for sitting were actually supports for a spring-board. An oddshaped pommelled horse, a buck, a few pairs of boxing gloves etc. We were all wonderstruck and wide-eyed. Harpagon, our workshop, made parallel bars mounted on a wooden platform, the bars made of rose-wood! It was a modest affair in use even today in the body-building gym.

Some new activities were added to our repertoire — some in the morning hours before School! (Latthi, Lakri patta, Boxing. Lakri patta was an imitation of sword-shield fight. The sword was a four foot long cane and the shield a thick leather, made about 20 cm. in diameter and decoratively built up. Purani-ji was its exponent and teacher. He looked somewhat fierce when showing us. He was agile for his age and build. All these were due to the push of Pranab-da. But boxing was the sport close to his heart. He and Biren-da were our teachers. We saw P knock out one Govindaraju in a practice bout — Govindaraju was near P’s age, well-built but slow.

Pranab-da’s constant pushing brought forth rapid expansions. We got, of course with time gaps, sometimes of a few years, new apparatus and facilities. Some equipments from U.K. not of any official standard but more than good for us. Then some more from U.S. — parallel bars, pommelled horse, high bar etc. Fields for groundnuts and sweet potatoes and vegetables became the present beautiful Sports Ground and Swimming Pool, and Annexe, i.e. cricket and hockey grounds. The latest being three Basketball courts which were a garden for jasmine flowers. The Basketball courts were very recently surfaced with a new Synthetic-Rubber. The story behind this last development is interesting. The courts, 3 in number, were of clay (with a bit of sand) with the court’s areas being marked by sunken bricks — which were a constant nuisance by protruding out here and there after rains. We tried concrete, in blocks of 3m x 3m. But, casting of the concrete in blocks always caused problems at the joints. Praful and I tried quite a bit finding different ways to deal with this problem. Our enquiries led us to a company in Coimbatore (Tamil Nadu) that manufactures with raw materials from Australia a synthetic rubber to surface playfields. But the cost would come to about Rs. 5 lakhs. We hesitated to go ask Pranab-da — but it had to be done, no harm in asking. With such hesitations and doubts we entered the PED office and stated the facts, i.e. the financial involvement and waited with bated breath (so to say). Actually there was no waiting or bated breath. The answer was immediate and non-ambiguous: “Gangaram édér panch lakh taka diyédé” = Gangaram give them Rs 5 lakhs — and that was that. My conclusions after all these episodes would be that the Divine Mother was more and more manifesting in the Physical and Pranab-da served as the vehicle — the doer.

Pranab-da’s temper as mentioned was both a boon and a bane. There was an episode where I was much involved. The story unfolds in the PED office. I was there doing some writing in the inner office. There was an old man (70+ years), a dentist. He was also in-charge of a guest house named Karnataka Nilayam. Dr. Patil and Gangaram of PED (assistant to Pranab-da) seemed to have had some earlier differences of opinion concerning Karnataka Nilayam. Dr. Patil came to the PED office to seek redress. He stood in the ante-room and was speaking in Kannada, obviously with some heat. Gangaram did not reply, he hardly raised his head. P it was who said “O.K. — now go.” Dr. Patil did not stop. Then P a little louder, “O.K. now get out.” The Dr. did not stop. He was blind to what was building up in front of him. Then P all of a sudden got up, fists clenched, eyes sparking and in a low rumbling voice “You bloody fool” — came striding out towards the Dr. I on an impulse jumped up and held P round the chest. He shouted at me: “Let go of me.” I said “No I won’t.” In the meanwhile someone had led the Dr. away. I let go of P. He still seething said to me: “Tui bériyé ja” = you get out. I said: “I have work here, I will finish and then go!” I went out after a few minutes. The best part of the drama was that the next day P was telling to some friend: “Yesterday Batti saved me, else there would have been a disaster.” He was all smiles. One needs no great imagination to know what could have happened had Dr. Patil received a sledgehammer blow from P!

Pranab-da was a man frank and forthright with his opinions. He was also somewhat “perceptive” or could have premonitions of happenings. I will cite events of this nature. One was during our Athletics Competitions. The Mother was present. The event was pole vault. There were just two competitors left in the fray — Vishwabandhu and Jyotindra. All of a sudden P got up and told Jyotindra: “You have done enough for the day. You may stop now!” Vishwabandhu continued and won the event. All present were aghast and angry with P Later when Mona, a group captain, asked the Mother, She explained: “There was dark cloud hovering over Jyotindra that bode him no good”. P was perceptive enough to see it and acted for Jyotindra’s good, while we were moved to judge by surface events.

The second episode unfolded near the PED office, in front of the archive’s office on Nehru St. There was a beggar sitting on the roadside with a cloth spread in front of him. He sat there in Japanese fashion, never talked or begged with outstretched arms. He sat through rain and sunshine. We all thought it an achievement — an opinion which someone expressed in the PED office. All were admiring him — not so P He casually remarked “Ké jaané, ék smugglero hoté paré.” (Who knows, he could be a smuggler.) We all, including me, were silent, but our dissent was written large on our faces. Believe it or not, within 2-3 days after our discussion the “beggar” was whisked away by the Police! It turned out that he was a link in a chain of drug peddlers including some foreigners. They would even prostrate themselves in front of him passing on a packet of drugs or pick up a packet. We all were blind but P had a sort of intuition, or deeper perception.

Pranab-da felt that growing children and youngsters did need some more substantial food — especially as physical education was compulsory for all students. He started a separate kitchen named Corner House (separate from the Dining Room). The food would often be a bit spicy — so tasty and the variety was also there i.e. chappati, puri were often served. Occasionally some non-vegetarian was on the menu. This facility i.e. Corner House was strictly for students and teachers and coaches.

Cinema halls are out of bounds for all Ashramites. If at all we wanted to see a “safe” film (Tarzan, Robin Hood) we asked the Mother and If She approved we went along with an adult, also approved by Her. (This was very rare — may be once or twice in a year.) Now we see a film every Saturday in the Play Ground. Early days P pre-viewed the film along with the Mother. Later he would see it, pass it or fail it. If passed we all saw it. Now one or two seniors do the job.

The Mother drew Pranab-da closer and closer. He became, as She grew older, Her constant support and helper. He was more or less fully, day and night, occupied with looking after Her needs. Much, nay all, the Physical Education work was shouldered by the captains and helpers (coaches).

Pranab-da was a supporter of girls’ (of all ages) participation with equal opportunities as their male counterparts. We can now boast of our girls taking part in events like Pole Vault, Hammer Throw, and distances longer than 800 m. etc., long before other sporting bodies came to the same conclusions. P was the doer and the Mother was the inspirer (conspirator) in all these developments.

The Mother used to give P some money every month to buy just one book on Physical Education. Starting with that P built the very useful PED Library, now containing a few thousand books and magazines. (The Library is very much underused — even the captains who are the ones allowed to borrow, don’t do so.) The Library also maintains all records — medical, Athletic Competition, Swimming Competition, etc. Pranab-da urges use but can’t tolerate any misuse. One day I witnessed the following drama. I was unaware, but he noticed two boys wrestling on top of a pile of Gymnastic mattresses. He came striding in and ‘smack’ one hard slap on an upturned bottom. The boy exclaimed “Ké sala ” (Bengali expression) and looked up, saw who was his tormentor and ran from there followed by his friends.

Pranab-da himself was always neat and clean in his handling of material things. Others fell far short of his expectations. He would urge us to be as “gentle” as possible with the barbells and dumbbells. Any repairs had to be attended to as soon as possible — delays would only increase the costs and worse, may be dangerous to the users. I have seen a boy performing a giant circle on the High Bar go flying off when one stay wire, frayed and neglected, snapped. A good bit of spotting saved the boy.

Pranab-da had other talents too — tasteful ones. He liked good music — the classical Hindustani type. He played the clarinette fairly well — I believe self taught. The care he took of the instrument was a treat to watch and emulate — which very few tried to. Once a band player kept his bugle mouth down on the ground. P was sore with him, just asked him to pick it up (he got away very cheaply). P was the one who conducted the H group marching daily (Mona does so now). At times when in good mood, when the group was jogging its 12 laps, P would whistle into the mike some classical tune. It was quite pleasing.

Days into months into years passed by. The Mother stopped coming to the Play Ground or anywhere else. She kept more and more to Her room on the 2nd floor. She depended more and more on P for Her movements. She appeared on the 2nd floor balcony on the four Darshan Days, P always hovering behind Her within reach, but out of sight. Then those too stopped — came that Fateful Day the 17th of November 1973 — She left Her Physical Body — Mahasamadhi.

Pranab-da was now with much time on his hands. He took to motorbiking with a small group. His motorbikes too were shining and looked new till their retirement.

Pranab-da was getting older now and stopped motorbiking. He had a heart condition. He grew heavy and home-bound. All through Savitri, a young lady was a good support, attending to his needs. Doctors attended on him regularly. All this helped delay, but finally the end came — on the 8th January 2010. An era had ended. One is tempted to say: “When again one such?”

What can we now conclude about the man? He was practically a one-man show. One can even assume he was dictator, but a benign one. With his powers and understanding, he could take immediate action, get things done. (He did consult us when needed.) Now we are a committee of five who are to meet regularly and make the decisions — this does not happen on any regular basis — an attempt at a democratic front. Happily for all concerned the existing organisation, so long-standing, is running without any serious hitches for the benefit of all.

Once when someone asked Nolini-da for some decision, he said: “If it is a question of discipline, go ask Pranab!”

Once when I was talking to the Mother about my personal problems, and that was over, the Mother told me: “Now I have something to tell you. I want you to completely co-operate with Pranab.” She must have known — I had never spoken about it, at the time I had not always “warm” feelings towards him. There was a “coolness” lurking somewhere inside me. Now I just nodded assent, and from then on tried to follow his directions. It is not that I never opposed him. I questioned sometimes and he answered — he did not object. I only hope I have satisfied the Mother. I am most grateful to Her for having kept a tab on me, my moods and movements.

I would end my write-up on Pranab-da with a short eulogy on Biren-da. He was my brother Narayan’s, sister Bhavatarini’s and my favourite. He it was who taught me boxing, lathi, weight-lifting, swimming, a bit of football and lastly all about outings to the countryside (when much of it existed). What now is Auroville was just Red Hills or Laal Pahar for us. We were given permission by the Mother to make a two-day trip to Gingee (hills) with him.

Biren-da was an expert masseur. He would set dislocated elbows, shoulders, fingers, by feeling, by touch without the aid of X-Ray. He had magic in his fingers backed with some inner guidance that he developed and learned to rely on as he aged — grew wiser. He read books on the Indian Chakras of the body and incorporated the knowledge into his curing methods. As age pursued him he became partially deaf. He was at times regretting that none was coming forward to learn what he had garnered for so long. Fortunately Rajnish, Sukhen and Cheta P. did imbibe some of his knowledge, though I can’t say anything about the magic in his fingers and the inner guidance.

Biren-da was a good worker and induced and influenced us to his ways. Any hard physical work like harvesting paddy or preparing the Play Ground (soil) was to be welcomed as useful exercise and experience. He worked for a time in our Printing Press. He then started a small Binding cum Repairing Dept. for any Ashramite’s books in 2-3 small rooms in the southeast corner of the D.R. This later he had to give up ceding place to some so-called important work. He was very disappointed and sort of retreated into himself and now paid full attention to massaging and physiotherapy in which he performed near miracles.

The years were catching up and he became more and more indrawn, silent. His health too was on the decline. He passed away on the 17th of March 1997 aged 82 years.

My closeness to Biren-da taking him as a teacher (Guru) and an elder brother was probably the source of the unconsciously harboured “cool feelings” towards Pranab-da — for our (mine and one or two others) minds somehow “opposed” these two men. These feelings were those that the Mother saw and so told me to “completely co-operate with Pranab”. Quite a roundabout way of knocking some sense into me, a hard nut to crack. So again my heartfelt gratitude to Mother. Mysterious are Her ways to crack a nut.

“In the days I was seeing the Mother everyday in the morning, I would, as a matter of routine and discipline, ask Her “permission” to go anywhere out of Pondy for the whole day (Gingee, Chennai etc.). Then, the Mother retired to Her 2nd floor room and I had to stop seeing Her every day. But, I was confident that Her Protection was always there. So, when Kurt the German gymnast was here, I planned a trip to Gingee, taking Kurt along. We planned to return before 6.30 PM. so as to attend the Gym-class that Kurt was conducting. We got delayed (rain) and missed or were late for the gym-class. There was grumbling, justifiably.

I wrote to the Mother to check on the correctness of my “confidence” of having Her protection. She replied: “It is always better to inform. There is a difference in a general protection and a conscious protection. You can always inform me through Pranab.”

I was doing that until Her Mahasamadhi. I continued taking Pranab-da’s permission — not just giving the information. I had the belief that I could claim Her protection via Pranab-da. After Pranab-da’s demise my claims for Her protection are the same.

The solar system has no anxiety about its anxiety.

Ralph Waldo Emerson