Khan Sahab passes away

​‘Ranoji mein ho?’ he asked, without lifting his gaze from the answer sheet that he happened to be thumbing through. The answer sheet was mine and the test in pertained to was the maths test from the recently concluded half-yearly exams. ‘Yes sir,’ I replied. Then even before I could sneak a peek at my marks, I knew I’d fared pretty well; for Khan sahab had allowed himself a little smile. Mind you, just a little one. Because his dignity and meticulousness would not allow his fondness for his old house to venture into the domain of prejudice. Indeed, his dignity was an attribute he zealously guarded. And it is no small tribute to it that while there were nicknames for most teachers( boys being boys), Khan sahab was known as just that: Khan sahab.
 
Khan sahab left Ranoji the very same year I enrolled there, and the privilege of having him for a housemaster eluded me by the smallest of margins. However, since it was a fresh wake in which I basked, I got to know a lot about him through the stories that abounded. There was the praying Rahul Nandy story, the laughing-Raavan (Rahul Kulshreshtha) episode, the shahi-toast sagas and many more. Of course, there was also the anecdote about reining in Salman Khan's tormentors - that bunch of indiscreet lads who were rather risqué in their allusion to the conjugal preferences of Mr. Salim Khan.
 
But interesting though these narratives may be, they by no means form the core of my memories of Khan sahab. That space is ruled by a set of streaming vignettes; moving snapshots, if you will. And foremost among these snapshots would be the ones from the Republic day and Independence day parades. Yes, as most Scindians from that era would have correctly comprehended, what I allude to is that handsome frame in an immaculate achkan; a frame awash with abiding visual appeal; a frame so majestic that it rendered his incongruous bicycle almost invisible.
 
The next snapshot is about Khan sahab's version of the Indian map. To his drawing hand, that map was always an image of undivided India. Some of us at that time viewed his map as a flawed perception of the subject he was teaching. Now, I see it differently. I believe that map wasn't so much a desire to alter geography as it was a yearning to have history rewritten.
 
Finally, my most abiding memory of Khan sahab: the snapshot of a lone figure standing on the sidelines of a sports-ground (this is from the days when he'd ceased to be housemaster.) Khan sahab, on his way home after games-hour, would invariably stop over to catch a few minutes of any match that his house happened to be engaged in. Curiously, his vantage point was always well removed from that of the other spectators. A telling habit I'd say. It apprised of his instinct to keenly watch over the objects of his affection. More importantly, it apprised of his preference for going about that task in an unobtrusive manner.
 
And that, for the time being, could be the only consolation his loved ones may find assuagement in.