I continued as a boarder in East Hostel of Ravenshaw College after completing my first two years in college in Intermediate Science. But I switched over to humanities discipline with political science as honours subject. That was in 1960. In the five-seated room in the hostel, I shared the room with Bauribandhu Nanda and three others. Bauribandhu had just joined the college at the Pre-University level. He, by nature, was quiet and studious. He loved his books. A notable activity, not related to his study in the room, and which I liked, was his vajrasan on the bed and in that posture, combing his hair with great sincerity in a comb made of horn for quite some time.
At one stage of our lives, we built our houses in the same locality of Bhubaneswar. His house is about a 100 metres away from mine. On superannuation from government service, we lived in our houses and after some years decided to walk together in the morning a few miles. One day he narrated his experience of a day in the hostel. Mr S R Upadhyaya (he taught zoology), the Hostel Superintendent, made a visit to our room early in the morning; talked briefly with each one of us and stopped at Bauribandhu’s chair before leaving the room. He had found Bauribandhu disturbed and depressed. But Bauribandhu would not say what troubled him. Mr. Upadhyaya, however, could realise something was seriously wrong. He made Bauribandhu agree to join him for breakfast. Bauribandhu walked into his quarters, adjoining the hostel. Mrs. Malati Upadhyaya was a Lecturer in Hindi in Sailabala Women’s College. Both made him feel comfortable and relaxed. Bauribandhu had his breakfast and spoke. He had to deposit Rs 120 as examination fee for the Pre University final examination. His father had sent money through a person of the village who worked in Bhima Ice Factory, close to Ravenshaw College. There was a letter from his father too. His father had pawned his gold ring and could get only Rs 26, which he had sent through the messenger. Bauribandhu was crestfallen and was in tears. He would have to miss the Pre University examination. The Upadhyaya couple immediately gave him Rs 150 and asked him to deposit the fee. Bauribandhu stood first in Pre University examination in 1961. Had the Upadhyaya couple not come up with help, he would have missed the examination. “May I share it with others; it might inspire a teacher and a student even today,” I asked, while we walked. He agreed, with a smile.
Bauribandhu joined the IPS in 1965 and I joined the IAS a year later. He retired from the position of Director General, CISF, and thereafter settled down in Bhubaneswar. Once when we were walking together, he told me how he, in a dream, visited Puri and offered Tulsi leaves to the Lords. Some days later, I requested him to tell me about the dream in detail. He obliged. He was Assistant Superintendent of Police at Talcher in 1969. That was the year of Nabakalebar of the three presiding deities in Puri. Police officials from different places of the state were being deputed to Puri to be on duty during the Nabakalebar, an event of great religious importance that brought thousands of pilgrims from different parts of the country. Bauribandhu had a tinge of sorrow when some officials from Talcher received orders to proceed to Puri. He had wished he too would have this opportunity. Till then he had been to Puri’s Jagannath Temple only twice. The first visit was when he was a young boy and had accompanied the family from home at Damapara. The next and the last visit was only after he had joined the IPS and he was on a short training of four days, as a probationer, with the Railway Police in Puri.
From Talcher he had to visit Pallahara on work. Journey from Talcher to Pallahara involved a short ride in a bullock cart as well. The local SDO, being the brother of a Talcher-based police inspector, was kind enough to arrange for him a short lift in a government jeep. Bauribandhu had a memorable dream one night. He dreamt that he had been asked to go to Puri. The dream was long; he found himself in the sanctum sanctorum — Garba Gruha — and offering a handful of Tulsi to Lord Jagannath. He woke up in the morning to find himself still stuck up in the lacklustre Pallahara. He made peace with the situation and attended to his duty. That very day, surprisingly, he received an order from the headquarters to proceed to Puri to be on duty during the Nabakalebar festival. He soon reported to the SP in Puri. He was asked to be with Paramananda Acharya, the Administrator of the Temple. And Acharya was to be at the Garba Gruha. Bauribandhu stood just before the deities, in awe. A priest thrust a handful of Tulsi into his hands and asked him to offer it to the Lords. A shiver passed through his spine. Like a robot, he complied with the direction.
Prasanna Kumar Patnaik was the District Magistrate and N K Singh was the Superintendent of Police. The SP assigned Bauribandhu to be with the District Magistrate on Nandighosa, Lord Jagannath’s chariot. Bauribandhu felt blessed. He had craving now for more divine experience. He had heard about the delicious Rasabali that is offered to the Lords. This item is prepared with great care and in limited quantity. Very important persons on the terrace of the Emar Math are the privileged ones who get a little bit of this Prasad. His yearning for this special Prasad grew. The kindly, experienced Deputy Superintendent of Police Godabarish Misra had been of great help and had been offering guidance to the young IPS officer. Bauribandhu asked Misra if he could help him having a bit of Rasabali. He expressed his inability. Bauribandhu gave up. He was in front of the Prusty Cloth Shop near the Emar Math along with some police officials, when someone gave him a leaf-cup with a small portion of Rasabali and left the place as swiftly as he had come.
He once told me while we walked together about the police strike while he was SP in Puri. Rath Yatra without police bandobast was unthinkable. But Bauribandhu had to manage the Rath Yatra while the police force was in strike. His seniors offered a lot of sympathy, but not even an ounce of help was offered. He was in tears. Sevayats, however, assured full cooperation. Rath Yatra was peaceful. He attributed this success to the blessings of the Lords.
Bauribandhu’s humility, righteousness and spiritual orientation had drawn me closer to him. We had walked miles together in the morning for many years. He would wait under a tree for me if I was late. I would do the same if I was early. One day he was waiting for me. I was closing in from behind. He said he knew I was coming. “How?” I had asked. He said he recognised the sound of my footsteps. That was Bauribandhu, so intense as a friend, whom I lost just the other day (September 21, 2021). May he live close to the Lord, happy, forever.
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