Pushp Ji - My Guru

A N Kaul 

It was a little over half century ago, in the year 1946 to be precise, when I had the good fortune of having come into contact, for the first time, with Pushpji had just joined the only Intermediate College in Srinagar then, the famous Sri Pratap College, as a hesitant, shy teenager. I had opted for Hindi as my optional subject With British Raj on its last legs, all our professors and lecturers would, as a rule, come to College in suits and ties, may be in deference to a long-established convention. Even our revered professors of Sanskrit like Pandit Jagdhar Zadoo and Pandit Govind Razdan would surprisingly leave their customary pherans aside and come to College in western outfits whether these suited them or not. Professor Pushp was the lone young crusader who had the guts to come to College immaculately dressed in a black sherwani, a loose white khadi pyjama with a Gandhi cap covering his head. On top of this, his suave manners and affectations smile were the hallmarks of his magnetic personality

When I first saw him surrounded in the classroom by boys and girls, I took him for some student leader exhorting the students to organise themselves for some cause. But when he ascended the rostrum to deliver his lecture, there was pindrop silence. What an eloquence, words and metaphors flowing like nectar. It wasn't only the classroom lectures of Pushpji that would send his students into a trance. What was characteristic of him was the friendship that he cultivated with his students outside the class and the constant guidance that he would provide to those whom he founded responsive enough.

I remember I was a very meek and shy student. generally avoiding the front benches in the class and even the extra-curricular activities. But Pushpji had an uncanny sense of identifying students with some potential, regardless of the bench or the corner they occupied As a protagonist of Hindi, Pushpji had organised a College Hindi Parishad which met every week for debates, recitations of short stories and poems which would then be evaluated One day, he caught sight of me and beckoned me to him. I still recall those moments when I stood before him with my entire body suffering convulsions for fear of being punished for some misdemeanour which, I was confident, I had not indulged in. Instead, Pushpji put his hands on my shoulders and advised me to attempt writing short stories and read them in the meetings of the Hindi Parishad. When I pleaded before him that I do not find myself capable of doing so, he became adamant and ordered me that I must present something at the next meeting, good or bad. I assured him that I would try.

I went home that evening in a state of despondency. The prospect of facing contemptuous ridicule and decisive laughter at the Hindi Parishad meeting unnerved me. Next day was a Sunday. Finding no escape route, I took my pen and was on to my maiden attempt at writing in Hindi. I still remember the title of that story - अहा सूर्य अस्त हो ! I had tried to describe the agony of the people suffering from the warm and humid weather of July (we had no fans, no fridges then) in Srinagar and the relief they get after the sunset. I couldn't believe my eyes when I read it over and over again that it had the remblance of a short story.

When the doomsday arrived and the Hindi Parishad meeting was convened, Pushpji called out my name and I was asked to read out my story. I walked to the podium as if my feet were laden with heavy chains. Pushpji encouraged me by introducing me to the student audience and asked me to begin. I did read my piece without having any sense of time and when I finished, I heard a deafening applause, let by none other than Pushpji himself. I had a realisation then that Pushpji had succeeded in drawing the shyness out of me and prodded me on to continue with many such writings. Afterwards, I used to take active part in Hindi Parishad meetings, till I left S.P. College in late 1947. Even though I couldn't become a writer or a poet in Hindi, whatever little knowledge I have acquired in the Rashtra Bhasha was due to Pushpji being my guru. I lost contact with him in 1950 when I left Kashmir but would pay my respects to him as and when I would Visit Srinagar. He used to make anxious enquiries as to how I and my contemporaries were faring in the hot and humid plains, little knowing then that he too would have to spend the last few years of his life in such unfamiliar and inhospitable climes.

Pushpji indeed did an honour to Koshur Samachar by sending to me his scholarly essay on "Henzae":: A folk genre viewed afresh" which was published in August 1996 issue. While going through the article, I felt strange vibrations in my body. Far from venturing to use my pen to edit it, I ensured that even a comma, a full-stop or a transliteration sign in the article should remain as contained in that original manuscript corrected in hand by Pushpj himself during his last few months in this world. As a mark of reverence to my Guru, I personally vetted its proof no less than five times. Still I awaited a call from my guru to be chided for any omissions and errors which might have escaped my eyes but noticed by him. But alas! that call never came for Pushpji was in a hurry to fly to the astral world, leaving behind his countless admirers to pray for peace to his departed soul.

I pay my respectful homage to the memory of Pushpji-

A N Kaul

DISCLAIMER:

The views expressed in the Article above are Author’s personal views and kashmiribhatta.in is not in any way responsible for the opinions expressed in the above article. The article belongs to its respective owner or owners and this site does not claim any right over it. Copyright Disclaimer under section 107 of the Copyright Act of 1976, allowance is made for "fair use" for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, education, and research. Fair use is a use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be infringing."

Courtesy:  1996 November, Koshur Samachar