He couldn’t ‘imagine life without morning dose of The Tribune’

Dr Manmohan Singh’s inevitable query whenever we met was: “So, how are things at The Tribune?” The Tribune was a part of his daily media diet, and what was printed in the paper was keenly read by him —- one of the paper’s most illustrious readers, and also an occasional writer.

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He visited The Tribune office more than once, and I was fortunate to be there when he came a few years after I joined the paper. I don’t quite remember which post he held at that time, but it was the person that mattered, not the position. His gentle manner and his absolute authority on his subject were soon evident as we listened to him in the board room, where he addressed The Tribune’s editorial staff. He patiently interacted with us before retiring to the Editor-in-Chief’s office.

When The Tribune celebrated its 125th year in 2005, Prime Minister Manmohan Singh presided over a function at the Bhargava Auditorium of the PGI, where he asserted: “I have been a loyal reader of The Tribune all my life. It is now a habit that I see no reason to give up. Like my morning cup of tea and my morning walk! There is no better way of starting a day than getting your favourite newspaper. There is no better way of assuring oneself that all is well with the world than seeing your newspaper at your doorstep every morning. Reading a newspaper is a habit, a second nature to all of us. It competes today with other media for our attention, but I cannot imagine it will ever be replaced. Well, I can speak for myself and say that I cannot imagine life without a morning dose of The Tribune! Even when I lived in distant lands, I would make sure that The Tribune was delivered to me.”

Later, he released the book, “The Tribune 125 Years: An Anthology 1881-2006,” by Pran Nevile at his residence and a postal stamp commemorating the 125th anniversary of the paper in Parliament.

Such was his bond with the paper that he would, in 2012, release VN Dutta’s book “The Tribune 130 Years: A Witness to History” at Vigyan Bhavan in Delhi. So much of Punjabi Delhi came to the event, and such was their connection with The Tribune that when the time came to leave, feet dragged, and there were more than a few grumbles! We called on Doctor Sahib and Mrs Gursharan Kaur in Delhi some time ago. He started with the inevitable “How are things at The Tribune.” When I mentioned that I had retired, he gently smiled and said: “I am sure you are still involved, as am I. I read the paper daily.”

We discussed a few things, including the state of the Urdu Press in Punjab. The manner in which he posed questions was gentle, but he expected answers, and you didn’t want to let him down.

While writing this piece, nostalgia about this gentle man who had a life-long connection with The Tribune is overwhelming. Just knowing that what you were writing could possibly, maybe, catch the eye of the person who you respected so much was enough to make you put your best foot forward. With his passing, The Tribune lost a mentor and reader extraordinaire.