Sagar, The Source of My Inspirations
P.D. Mishra
I had made up my
mind to go to Sagar for post graduation after securing second position in B.A.
studying at Tikamgarh Degree College in 1966.
Doing M.A. in English two years ahead of me, Arun Prabha (elder sister
& Krishna Kumar an old student of Sagar University and N.C.E.R.T. Director
at present) had already set the course of my studies there. The rest of the
choice got accomplished after reading "Tess" of Thomas Hardy.
A news spread fast in Tikamgarh that the college was also
getting upgraded as M.A. English (Previous year) class was getting started on
the initiative of Dr. Rajendra Verma, the Principal. Dr. Verma a PhD. on T.S.
Eliot was a model of academic perfection for us. I therefore thought it fit to
consult him before taking a final decision in the matter. I was also a bit
hesitant for leaving the college. Dr. Verma, however, in all kindness and care
told me-" As a favourite student of mine, I would very much like you to
remain here, but as you should have a broader vision and field, you can very
well go to Sagar."
Shri S. Mallikarjunan in the Department of English had by
now become my ideal although I had not so far seen him. I met Shri Ramji
Upadhyay of Sanskrit and Rajnath Pandey, Shiv Kumar Mishra and Ram Ratan
Bhatnagar of Hindi Department already instead. Acharya Nand Dulare Bajpai had
gone to Ujjain to become Vice-Chancellor. I had therefore to hold the desire of
seeing him till Tulsi Jayanti of the year when he paid a visit to the
university. Although I was never in a fix for opting English as my subject, but
I may probably not answer even today what would have happened if I had opted
Hindi!
(I may probably secure first position in the university,
might have come to be acknowledged as an educationist or a man of literature or
criticism (of society!) but I still find no merit in not turning towards the
direction where Robert Frost (American poet) stood signaling me on the
cross-road!)
I feel even now (the feeling at that time was rather
intense) that since the university stands for a platform of universal
knowledge, why the teachings could be so confined? Therefore, whether he was Dr. Bhagirath
Prasad Mishra, Premshankar or Gangadhar Jha of Hindi Department, Dr. Shyamaa
charan Dubey of Anthropology or Dr. W.D.West of Geology, I made a point to
attend their lectures.
Dr. Vanmala Bhawalkar of Sanskrit Department had offered
me the role of Banbir in a Sanskrit drama staged in the annual festivals of the
university. When I sought the opinion about my performance, one of my South
Indian friends exclaimed-
"You performed well, but your sword did not go down
for killing the baby!"
I then replied to him -
" I had hoped the curtain to fall much sooner."
Eagerly awaiting the curtain of my examination results to
lift in the summer of 1968 in my village, I received a typed post card from
Shri S. Mallikarjunan. He expressed his happiness on my performance in the
final year as I had scored highest marks this year. I also got myself
registered as a research student in his supervision but his advice to me
was -
"Mishra, never be a romantic transcendentalist in
your practical life. You will find such people only suffering and their family
life getting disturbed. You should therefore first seek a job. You can carry on
your research even after that."
There was one English gentleman Robert Michael Haworth
appointed lecturer in the Department of English recently. When he came to know
about my connections with the center of Maharashi Mahesh yogi in Rishikesh, he
got immediately ready to accompany me as the Beatles of his country had already
stayed there for some time. Our third companion was Saeed Ali, another lecturer
of this Department. The two persons came back after staying there for some time
but advised me to come back only after meeting Maharshiji.
It was clear that my research on the American playwright
Tennessee Williams had come to a halt. I had already transcended the 'ideal
romanticism' once by seeking to know from the then Prime Minister of our
country Shrimati Indira Gandhi as a leader of the student delegation in Delhi
whether she could assure jobs to us. But the future writings are probably not
the subject of any university. However, now long after, I still feel the
memories of Tagore hostel, the lonely paths turning towards Dhana or down the
hillside towards city Sagar haunting in my conscious and subconscious strata
for a life-size story to complete!
P.D. Mishra, 35
Eden Garden, Rajabhoj Marg, Bhopal 16
www.vishwatm.com
This is how this time could be shared by Mick Howarth (now in France)in 1967 in Sagar University in the English Department in his letter to his parents in England-
ReplyDeleteDec 13th 1967
Dear Mum & Dad,
Thanks for Xmas card & your letters of 2nd & 5th Dec. I await 2nd parcel with interest – thanks for sending it & getting Lalgi a watch. I told him and he was very pleased.
On Saturday I went out with Mishra to his home at Tikamgarh. We took the 3.30 bus from Sagar. We drove round the mechanics and petrol pumps getting a new fuel pipe fitted till 6.0 and finally arrived at 11.00 instead of 7.30, after taking “short cuts” down half made-up roads where we had to remove barriers of stones across the roads (this at a place where a police sub-inspector had been shot by bandits the night before). Really, I’m coming to think that buying a bus ticket here is more like entering into a marriage agreement – for better, for worse till death us do part.
Tikamgarh is a real old small town (“real India” as they say) and I stayed for the first time in an old house – no electricity or modern toilets and the full Brahmin ritual of purification after defecation. Here I caused obvious dismay by washing my hands in the wrong place, putting the water pot down in the wrong place before it had been washed &c. The house was full of students – a sort of mini-hostel. Mishra’s parents live in a nearby village, but bought this house for him a couple of years ago.
All next day it poured with rain, so we couldn’t see much, but visited various friends and old teachers – some very interesting. Also went to the pictures with the local student president – a completely different type from Mishra. Wears all sorts of strange fashions – self-designed. Has spent 2 months in gaol after a student strike. Is very quick tempered. We went into the Manager’s office at the cinema & he kicked a chair away from the man who wouldn’t take his feet off it for me to sit down.
On the Monday morning I went to the Degree College to give a talk. I spoke in English with Mishra translating into Hindi. (On Sunday morning it had taken three boys five minutes to make me understand they were students of English.) I spoke for 40 minutes on “First Impressions of India”, comparing it with England – description of eating and bathing habits etc. Then there was an hour’s questions and I had to sing. Questions ranged from the expected “Can Indians get jobs in England?”, “Are marriages arranged in England” &c to a set of philosophic questions about how I defined Life, what was the relation between science and philosophy. The students seemed generally amused by their morning’s entertainment & I missed my bus, so I toured the science block (the Maharajah’s lakeside palace converted) then had my palm read over lunch by the “Yogi” who had asked the unanswerable questions. Apparently I am lucky, will have a sudden rise of fortune at age 32 and am marked out to be a devotee of Shiva (the Destroyer). Then we set off to see some temples (myself learning how to ride on the carrier of a bicycle), but as soon as we got there the bus came, and so back to Sagar.
I also had one meal at Mishra’s uncle’s house. As we ate, the old man sat on the floor murmuring “Ram, ram, ram” – i.e. repeating the name of god. I am told he has devoted most of his life to this & has often seen god.
You may have read of the anti-English agitation here. well, during the two days I was away, every English sign in the city was taken down. there has been no trouble here yet, as this is hardly a seat of English speaking privilege, but tomorrow has been declared a strike. My door now bears a second name-plate – र. म. हौवथ. My initials at least are auspicious – they spell the name of God – Ra Ma.
Hope this letter reaches you – in these strikes they sometimes burn down the post-office!
Love & best wishes for Christmas
Mick
Thurs a.m. – No strike.