The sixth river of Punjab

WHENEVER I think of Dr MS Randhawa, an exciting world of visual arts — his first love — comes to mind. As one of the last members of the British Indian Civil Service, he discharged bureaucratic duties promptly to find time for the promotion of visual arts. With his incredibly fast decision-making, he infused the joy of art avocation into the lack-lustre routine of his vocation. He carried it over to his post-retirement life.

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 In 1981, he set up the Punjab Arts Council (PAC) and became its chairman, besides being the president of the Punjab Lalit Kala Akademi (PLKA). After the meetings, Dr Randhawa would talk about art and aesthetics to a select few. 

He would come from his house in Kharar for meetings, make a quick job of the bureaucratic work and then ask for refreshments. When he saw tea and biscuits being served, he would say he disliked this ‘angrezi’ stuff. Then on, he would arrive for the meetings, with his helper carrying a big basket of desi snacks. Since all members were Punjabis, they were delighted to see generous quantities of samosas and laddoos. Though in his seventies, he consumed the snacks with a ‘qualm-less’ lust. When an elderly member cautioned that such snacks could cause diabetes, he retorted: ‘Tainu hundi hovegi…sanun nahin’ (you may be a victim, not me). 

On my persuasion, he commissioned me to design the PAC building. His brief was short: ‘I don’t like gloomy interiors. Go and see the library that I had got designed for thePAU, Ludhiana.’ The seven years that I spent on the job, gave me my life’s most enriching experience. Before his death in 1986, he addressed the audience on the inauguration of the PLKA annual exhibition. He called the PAC the most beautiful building in Chandigarh, next only to Le Corbusier’s museum. 

For his enormous contribution, he has been called the ‘sixth river of Punjab’. His gifts are the Government Museum, Rose Garden and Chandigarh’s landscaping that makes it City Beautiful. As chairman of the Landscape Advisory Committee, he named Nek Chand’s illegal artistry ‘Rock Garden’ and recorded in the minutes that this unusual creation should be saved from the intervention of architects and planners. He was one man who wouldn’t call on a politician. Whoever needed to see him, went to Kharar — with prior appointment and a precondition that the visitor would be offered lassi, not tea. 

He spared no one for overstepping into the realm of visual arts. His rebuke made the then Punjab CM, who was to release a book, stop his speech midway. Taking the mike from him, Dr Randhawa started with an advisory: Agriculture and art were different things, confused by politicians.  

We ought to acknowledge our indebtedness to him. The UT Administration should name the annual Rose Garden festivities after him.