A man so grounded

HK Lall

THERE are so many adjectives for a single person who joined service as a clerk and retired as a clerk from the area and boundary commission of the Haryana Government — Brij Bhushan Sharma. I always called him Prof Brij Bhushan Sharma. Whenever we met, he would extend his hand to shake mine, but I never had the courage to shake hands with him, instead I would touch his feet.

Son of a school peon from a village in Karnal district, after graduation, he desired to study further to be a teacher. His father had a very small piece of land, which he sold and funded his postgraduation in Ambala. He passed, but could not get good grades. Disheartened, he joined as a clerk in the Haryana Government. He started studying further privately and pursued his MA in many subjects, besides LLB in the evening studies batch. Having done his master’s in Urdu and Persian, he decided to pursue it in Arabic. When he sent his admission form, he was informed that he was the sole candidate and could make his datesheet as per his own convenience. He stood first because there was no other candidate! 

He would not wear trousers and shoes with laces as he believed these were things left behind by “firangis” who ruled us for 200 years. 

Twelve-type government quarters are allotted to clerks. In case of non-availability, a clerk could opt for a 13-type house which is meant for class 4 employees such as peons, safai karamcharis, gardeners. He opted for one such and got it. When a 12-type (bigger and better) quarter was available, he was given the option to shift in it. However, he refused. When I asked him the reason, he said people living around him in similar houses were not literate. “They come to me to read them their letters and write their responses which they dictate. Nearby is a vendor who sells paan, cigarettes, etc. He shuts his stall at midnight and has to keep his wares in the basement. I assist him and he stands in the basement while I hand him all the big and small things. It saves time and labour and he feels happy,” he said. 

His answers shocked me. 

I and two of my friends passed Adeeb Fazil (honours in Urdu) like Giani in Punjabi and Prabhakar in Hindi under his guidance.  Sometime back it struck me to go and see him at his village. One of us who retired as an officer had a car. We all planned to go together but decided to confirm his whereabouts in a map to reach his village. This search led us to the shocking discovery that he had died a year ago. RIP