P. Sainath

Its two months since now, that my schedule is extremely laid back. (All play and no work makes for a poor life!)It was roughly four in the afternoon when I went through the local pages of Hindustan Times and my eye caught a known black & white picture which was of my senior lecturer in Social Communications Media dept. of Sophia Polytechnic Mumbai. A person I truly admired. The first two lines gave me this conformation that he was in town, and I couldn’t read the rest out of excitement. I quickly messaged him enquiring about his visit. My mind completely diverted towards my cell phone which I kept checking in every other minute. Maybe he is busy, maybe he has left, and this thought occupied me for long.
Until I went to pick my mummy from her art classes and I was suppose to wait there for 15 minutes. Suddenly I thought maybe he hasn’t read my text, so I finally gathered courage to give a call and as expected he didn’t picked up. In a moment my cell flashed and it was his call- P. Sainath. My heartbeat skipped seeing his name on my screen. I quickly picked and introduced myself and also my willingness to meet him in my city. Unfortunately he was at the ‘Raja Bhoj Airport’ Bhopal. I was late. With great disappointment I kept the phone down, and continued waiting in the car. In a split second I got a call back again from him conforming whether the airport authority here allows meeting in the lobby after checking in as the flight is at 8pm & it was already past 6. I wasn’t sure though, but I wanted to make a try. In fact how could I afford to miss!

Leaving my mom uninformed, cancelling my plans with friends on phone for the weekend while driving, and with no money and empty fuel tank I just planned to rush. Although Bhopal is a small city, but Airport from my place is at the extreme opposite corner. While I was driving several thoughts engaged my brain. Will I be able to meet, will he recognize me? I recalled the 1st & the last time I spoke to him. I remembered the bench were I sat on the 1st day of my college and it was scrabbled- “Sainath Rocks”. I remembered the 1st time I questioned him in the class- “Isn’t Media so much biased nowadays?” , I remembered cancelling my reservation to my home town just because of the sudden scheduling of his lecture in those days. And most importantly on the last second day of my pre board examinations, as soon as I came out of my class, few of my class mates passed me this message that Nirmita Mam is looking for me. As such I have a very clean record and less interaction with teachers. I was confused and I was looking for her. She passed me this message that Sainath wants to speak to you regarding your internship, text him before you call.
Apart from the usual excitement, the thought that he remembered (He is a busy man), his concern took me to a different level altogether. The conversation I had with him that day was something I dreamed of. There was a lot of noise in the corridor and I was listening him with a lot of effort and tearful eyes, my voice choked in the end & I still don’t know why. My friends thought it was a call from home and neither could I explain anything to them. This whole thing reminded me of what I called artificial reality shows. Where a performer cries in front of the judge and I find it extremely funny. That day I really felt from my heart what the relationship with a mentor is. I could recall every word of that conversation today.

And with these thoughts I didn’t even realized that I was fast enough to reach at the airport, were the parking guy was asking me for change and I was fighting with him to fund me with just 10 minutes. I ran in my chappal & uncombed hair, which the security found strange, & the next obstacle was of the entry fee. At last I could see Sainath waiting. With so many thoughts & goose bums I got speechless seeing him & started pinching myself. My mom kept calling me but I was lost. The conversation started and soon ended with fatherly advises. Those 10 minutes seemed countless seconds to me.

Though he asked me to call him by his name, but I can never call my father so.
I am blessed.