Parmananda, the living legend with guts

Shriniwas Joshi

Ninetythree-year-old Parmananda Sharma whom Professor Samdhong Rinpoche, former vice-chancellor of the Tibetan Institute of Higher Tibetan Studies, Sarnath, describes as the living legend of India, had always a stinging pain that “for the slightest lapse or even no lapse at all, my godly father’s ire would soar to the skies.

There never was a ‘shabash’ or ‘well done’ from him for any of my attainments or distinction.” Any reader of his autobiography ‘My Mountain and My Valley’ (See photo), published by the Library of Tibetan Works and Archives, Dharamsala, costing Rs 305 only, would give a pat on his back by loudly uttering “Shabash! Parmananda Sharma.”

Born in Ghorial village of Jalandhar Doab of Punjab, he was the eldest among the 14 children that his mother bore of which seven sons and two sisters survived. The childhood memories of his village and school have been etched vividly in the autobiography.

Parmananda did his postgraduation in English from Lahore and joined Doaba College, Jalandhar, in 1945 as lecturer. He appeared in the IAS in 1947 and having qualified the written examination was called for the interview. HK Kripalani, Chairman of the Federal Public Service Commission, now UPSC, asked him, “What kind of a government do you have in Punjab?” His instant reply was, “Most corrupt, Sir.”

It may be mentioned here that Gopi Chand Bhargava was the Chief Minister of Punjab then who returned as the CM two more times and to call his government corrupt required unusual guts.

Parmananda lost selection because of getting just ‘pass marks’ in Sanskrit language, his forte. His failure in the Punjab Civil Services Examination destined him to be a teacher and not an elevated babu.

He says, “The teacher is a potter who, with the loving dexterity of his nimble touch, moulds the clay of his young wards into beautiful artistic pieces.” And what a grand teacher he was because in his school days, he not only read but had also absorbed the book ‘Paddle your own Canoe’ by Sir Baden Powell. It was a lesson in self-reliance and self-belief, hard work and perseverance - the lesson which stayed with him throughout his life and stood in good stead in his profession.

He joined Government College, Dharamsala, on December 19,1949, as lecturer in English and rose to be its Principal in 1977 and remained saddled there for five years till his retirement in 1982.

He was so enchanted by the environs and charm of the town that he decided to settle here for good and purchased a piece of land in the rural suburb where he got erected a house ‘Himkireet’ (Snow Crests) facing the snowy Dhauladhar at almost a handshake distance, a sight truly for the gods to revel in.

Parmananda is a believer. He believes in Shirdi Sai, Satya Sai, Swami Chinmayananda and Baba Balak Nath to whose shrine, he once footed 27 miles to pay obeisance. He explains his encounters with Satya Sai Baba and Chinmayananda in details in the book. Rinpoche writes in the foreword, “Right from the day one when His Holiness shifted from Mussoorie to Dharamsala in early 1960s till today, Professor Sharma has stayed in close association with His Holiness and guided the Tibetan refugees all the way through all kinds of affairs.”

A brawl between Indians and the Tibetans had ruffled Dalai Lama and he had decided in the nineties to leave Dharamsala to elsewhere. Parmananda rose to the occasion and could persuade Dalai Lama against this shifting. His words and pleadings, “Your Holiness, you have always said Dharamsala is your second home. Go back to your first home and we will be happy but we don’t want you to have a third home” and Dalai Lama decided to stay at Dharamsala.

Decorated with several awards for his works, Parmananda Sharma, an avid writer and philosopher, is leading an active life at this advanced age. May God give him years and years of zippy and dynamic life!

Tailpiece

In Persian ‘ba’ means ‘with’ and ‘bu’ means ‘smell’ so ‘babu’ means ‘one who has a smell’. Kolkata, the then headquarters of the alien rule and Bengalis being the fish-eating community had that peculiar smell. So, the name ‘babu’ had rolled up for them. – My Mountain My Valley