An epitaph, A Tell All and Adieu to a friend

Delhiites are familiar with hazy skies when dust, heat and pollutions stick to the air and bequeath them to all those exposed. One such evening, I made an unannounced entry into "IIT Study Circle", an erstwhile icon in the late 1980s.  

Without exaggeration, I can say that IIT Study Circle started the Coaching revolution in India. Before the days of Kota, Allen, FIIT JEE, one institution stood tall- IIT Study Circle. I know how it feels to be a part of an institution that is destined to make History. The magic was palpable, the atmosphere was electric, and the bonhomie was at heightened levels. 

It made History, but not in the way the founders would have wanted. Unfortunately, the founders of this institution did not benefit from the iconic tag attached to their institution. The institution spawned many other industries that later manifested a new sector, but IIT Study Circle died a quick death. There were many reasons behind the rise and decline of such an august institution, and my objective here is not to belabour on them.

Instead, I want to talk about one individual who probably was a key factor behind the institution's crest. Shyam Joshi(Joshiji, as I would later call him) was seated in the middle cabin of a room meant for the founder's institution. As I walked in, I passed by him; a glance escaped between us. There was a smile and an acknowledgement of a stranger. 

Joshiji, a youngish man, in his 30s, with a small moustache, a perpetual smile ensconced on his face, was the archetypical avuncular gentleman. He was a man of few words. I hardly remember our conversations. There were not many, but I do remember his smile, of which there was plenty. 

There was some magnetic charm that attracted many disparate individuals. I remember those days when four of us - Ravi Gopinath(who passed away a few years back), Dr Majid, myself, Dr Dasgupta, who made unlikely quadruplets. We could not have been more different. There was no similarity amongst us, but yet we all gravitated to Joshiji and IIT Study Circle. Somehow he inspired an unfathomable loyalty; we felt obliged to him, felt compelled to give our best. We would all push ourselves to our limits to deliver our best, and in that, it was a supreme joy to espy a smile on his face. He would berate us if we did wrong and would smile at us when we performed. We felt like young boys, waiting for that moment of appreciation from our father.

He was also an intense family man. You could see that his family meant all the world to him. Once he attended the call of duty, he would not hover around to socialize or have a drink but would rush back to his family. At that time, he had a young daughter and a doting wife. Joshiji did not talk much about his family, but we knew that it meant the world to him. 

As I look back into a history tainted by three decades, I wonder why he inspired such a feeling in many human beings. Perhaps it was the first time I was exposed to righteousness. I did not know that righteousness with grace could be such a powerful magnet. But it did hold all of us captives in its bosom, unbeknownst to all of us. Unfortunately, righteousness did not bestow on him the happiness that he truly deserved. In the late 80s, a rift between the founders divulsed the organization. Joshiji was caught between the jaws of righteousness and money, and it tore him apart. Those two years were probably the worst time of his life. It upended his life, friends and foes emerged, and he became slightly off-kilter. I became a victim of his disparagements, and a distance grew between us. I went through intense moments of agony and could not even fathom the change in his behaviour. 

Times changes, years intervened, and I got to meet him a few years later. He had mellowed down by then, the smile, the bonhomie, the camaraderie, and I felt the old glow coming back. Sometimes the scars create an unsaid barrier between two individuals. I allowed the blemish of the past to meddle in my affection for him. Joshiji, I am sorry, it was my mistake. I should have looked you up more often; I should have met you more often. I did not; I took time for granted. When somebody passes away, the gentle wisp of melancholy sweeps through you and reminds you of what you should have done. 

However, I do feel happy when I realize that Joshiji travelled extensively during his last years. He would post pictures of his travails- some with his children, some with his wife, some of his native place Nainital (another enchanting place), and we all felt joyous seeing them. Maybe Joshiji knew that his time was coming to a close. Perhaps that impelled him to travel at a frenetic pace. One would never know. 

Joshiji is no more. He became a victim of the pandemic. He has left many people distraught, chief among them his two daughters and his wife. Rita, Namitha and Mansi, you may not know me or perhaps remember. But I would like you to know that your father left an indelible mark in so many human beings, and that should inspire pride in you. 

A befitting epitaph that would encapsulate his stint on this planet- "Here lived a gentleman, who spoke little, but smiled more. In his gentleness, in his righteousness, he inspired loyalty and love amongst all who interacted with him".