One of the most sensible decisions I took in my life was to register for a course in creative writing with IGNOU. Though I did not complete the course I gained immensely from it. The most important gain was meeting people with whom I am still in touch on a regular basis- Kiran and Sailaja even after thirteen years after first meeting them. But there is one friend I miss very much- JR Jyoti.
When I got to the first contact class I met a few people- Sabina, Sailaja and J.R. Jyoti who came with a stylish briefcase. For a couple of weeks I wondered what was in it. Later I saw he was an organized person with everything he needed for his writing- a couple of pens, papers, his old articles etc., on hand in his briefcase. But it also contained one more thing we all looked forward to seeing regularly. He brought a box of sweets on every Sunday we met. Needless to say we all bonded so well that we used to meet regularly even after the course officially ended. We used to sit in the Shanbagh restaurant where now a bakery stands besides the flyover near Hyderabad Central. JR Jyoti was the glue that held us together with his elderly presence but childlike enthusiasm for writing.
JR Jyoti had just retired (this was in 1996) as a Chief Engineer in the Railways. But did not look like he was older than forty. He was not only young in appearance but also in his attitude. He cracked jokes all the time keeping us in splits. By the time we met he had already published several articles in many newspapers and magazines. In fact, he had written a book of poems in Hindi also. He also wrote in Urdu. At that time a new paper, ‘AP Times’ came out and we all had our articles published in it. Almost every week it carried at least an article that one of us had written. But the best articles in it were those written by Jyoti sab. They were very humorous and I sometimes wished I could come up with ideas like his. He wrote witty pieces on every subject and every event effortlessly.
Though the output of the rest of us waned with the years Jyoti sab continued to write. He was an inspiration to me and generously gave me advice. Not only advice, he lent me books and magazines on writing. I used to wait for him to tell me I could collect the latest issue of ‘Writers Digest’ which he subscribed to. I am very grateful to him for that small but priceless help. Another important reason I cannot forget is that he brought into my life a person who became a close friend. Jyoti sab had asked Hari to talk to us about his book. He came on one Sunday and that day onwards Hari and I became friends.
Afterwards we used to meet now and then. Jyoti sab told me he was compiling a book of all his articles. He told me to go through them and I tried my editing skills on them. Eventually, he decided to self-publish the book. This was in 2006. But he died of a lung ailment shortly afterwards. I was doubly grieved because the same day one of my uncles passed away and I had to go out of town. I missed the funeral of my unforgettable friend and benefactor. To this day I regret not seeing him for the last time.
But he remembered me. Last Saturday I was at Odyssey and was pleasantly surprised to see Jyoti sab’s book- ‘Day is Night’published by Jaico, still on the stands. I had seen it last time I was at Odyssey but by then I had already bought Marquez's book of short stories. I had thought Jyoti sab's book had died with him but happily that wasn’t the case. When I opened the book I had another surprise. In the acknowledgements he had thanked me (‘Shri Vinod Ekbote’) for helping in getting the book ready. I felt terribly sad, almost to the point of having tears in my eyes. I wish he were alive to see his book in print. There was only one copy in the store and I bought it.
‘Day is Night’ is a collection of sixty two of his wittiest pieces. They are his best pieces that reveal his zany sense of humor and his razor sharp writing. He wrote on topics ranging from Feng Shui, his meeting with Gaya Lal (Gaya Ram of Aaya Ram-Gaya Ram), encounter with a housefly, getting a wisdom tooth removed and several such topics that reflect his fertile imagination. Reading the pieces brought back to my mind the images of Jyoti sab- a nattily dressed, carefully groomed and extremely elegant gentleman writer who was more than a friend to me. I miss him.
No comments:
Post a Comment