Jyoti Basu - the light that would never fade

A man whose name was synonymous to Bengal and Communism had finished his work here on this planet and it was time for him to bow out. Yes, Jyoti Basu passed away after struggling for 17 days. The 95 year old Communist King was laid to rest in peace. In 2000, after having lead the state of West Bengal for 23 years, Jyoti Basu had handed over the responsibilities to Budhdhadeb bhattacharya. He however remained the father figure in the communist world.

Once while we were travelling to Calcutta, I remember our journey of 4 hours being stretched to 12 hours. The train travelled at snail's pace and stopped at each station on the way. At times the chain was pulled and hordes of people entered the train. It was a sea of people who were all heading to Calcutta. They were all going to attend a rally by Jyoti Basu. I remember that train journey just too well because that was when I realised what hunger was. We hadn't carried much of food stuff as we would reach Calcutta in just 4 hours and when the train got delayed, there was nothing anyone could do. The stations where the trains stopped did not supply any eatables. I remember staring hungrily at an old man, who opened a box that contained rice and dal and chewed on the contents at a leisurely pace. I do not know whether he chewed so luxuriously to while away his time or whether his teeth had worn away, making it impossible for him to eat fast. Whatever the reason, he has been immortalised in my memory. I know I will never be able to forget the expression of contentment on his face after he had had his last handful of rice. He drank water straight out of an earthen pot that he carried and sat back and burped.


My stomach wailed and my father managed to buy some cucumbers for all of us. We were more than happy to lay our hands on em. The train reached Calcutta at 8:00 next morning and my uncle was there at the station. We were more than thankful to see him. There were red flags all around. There were cheers and slogans all around. Roads had ceased to be black topped. It just seemed that the whole world had swung into action and everyone wanted to hear what Jyoti Babu had to say. I had no clue of the difference between the words communism and communalism and turned around to ask my dad the meaning of communism.. " A form of government in which all meant to be equal", he said. I did not understand. I had more questions, but by then the elders had engaged in social pleasantries. My questions weren't answered but the man whose face was postered all over the streets of Calcutta was embedded in my mind. This man with whom i shared my first name with was a man who had taught me unknowingly that hunger has to be curbed.


That all men are born equal and they have the right exist in the world, was something I had learnt onboard the train to Calcutta. His name was heard in every political forum not only in India but also over seas. His name is etched in gold in the creation of India's social fabric. It seemed like he would live on forever, but like all other thing that are born, he had to go away too. But, He has touched too many lives and will live on forever, in memories, for time immemorial..