Departure of Buddhadeb Bhattacharjee during world's deep illness is sorrowful

I've spoken with Buddhadeb Bhattacharjee face-to-face only twice. The first time was in 2006. By then, the dates for the assembly elections had already been announced. It was the first time the Left Front was contesting under the leadership of Buddhadeb Bhattacharjee, the nephew of poet Sukanta Bhattacharjee, and a former disciple of Promode Dasgupta. After the undisputed leader of the Communist Party of India (Marxist), Jyoti Basu, stepped down from the position of Chief Minister due to age, Buddhadeb Bhattacharjee was compelled by the party to take up the baton of leadership. This marked the beginning of a new chapter in West Bengal's political history. It could be said that it was a transitional moment, with many in the Left camp slightly uncertain about their new captain's performance.

I had heard some party theorists whispering in the background, "Will Buddha Da manage?" By then, the opposition leader Mamata Banerjee had already geared up, believing that with a heavyweight opponent like Jyoti Basu out of the way, she could easily defeat the relatively weaker Buddhadeb Bhattacharjee. She had already raised the slogan, "Now or never." Buddhadeb Bhattacharjee was aware that there was some ideological deficiency among the party workers and supporters. On one side was Jyoti Basu's strong image, and on the other, the increasing number of intellectuals within the party and the growing strength of the opposition certainly put Buddhadeb Bhattacharjee under pressure. It was during such a difficult time that I first met Buddhadeb Bhattacharjee in person. Hearing that he was in Siliguri, my dear friend and renowned filmmaker Raja Sen suggested we go meet him since we were also in the same city by coincidence.

Raja Da already had a good relationship with Buddhadeb Bhattacharjee, so we went. It was around 8-8:15 PM. Buddhadeb Bhattacharjee was resting at the Circuit House. It's surprising to think now that there wasn't much security. There were just a couple of policemen. It's worth noting that he was still a powerful minister and an important party leader in the state at that time. Yet, there was no significant security presence. Raja Da, with his usual nonchalant attitude, briskly climbed the stairs and told someone that he wanted to meet Buddhadeb Bhattacharjee. The person went inside, and quickly returned with a delighted face, informing us that we could go in. As we entered the room, we saw Buddhadeb Bhattacharjee, who was half-lying down, rise up upon seeing us. He greeted us with a smile and said, "What's the news, Raja? Are you here for work in Siliguri, or is there a shoot?" And then the conversation flowed.

When Raja Da introduced me, Buddhadeb Bhattacharjee remarked, "Oh, you are Jochon Da's nephew. You've made a film on the Gujarat riots. I've seen your film at Nandan." I knew about his close relationship with my uncle, the renowned theater personality Jochon Dastidar, but I didn't expect him to know me. However, I was aware of Buddhadeb Bhattacharjee's deep interest in culture. As the conversation continued, I was amazed to observe that, just two days before the election—a crucial test not only for the party but also for his political career—he was incredibly calm. The conversation veered away from politics. He was the main speaker, and we were silent listeners. He was relaxed. In the course of the conversation, I couldn't resist and finally spoke up. By then, he had become "Buddha Da" to me.

He burst into laughter, a hearty laugh that I haven't seen on his face since. He said, "I'm a cricketer. I know how to bat on a bad pitch." The subsequent election proved that he indeed knew how to bat on a difficult pitch. Under Buddhadeb Bhattacharjee's leadership, the Left Front won the West Bengal assembly with a two-thirds majority, dismissing the opposition's efforts. The new Chief Minister of the state was the thoroughly gentlemanly Buddhadeb Bhattacharjee.

The second and last time I spoke with him after he became Chief Minister, he had become "Brand Buddha" in the language of corporate capital. He was dreaming of and presenting a vision for the industrialization of the state. By then, the allure of neo-liberal economics was drawing the Left away from its traditional political paradigm. The new middle class had become the Left's class allies, leaving behind the old farmers and laborers. The definition of development had come to resemble that of any bourgeois party, involving skyscrapers, expressways, shopping malls, and so on. To many communists, he was Gorbachev. Many old Leftists were upset with his Glasnost-like behavior in West Bengal. Yet, he remained steadfast in his commitment to the industrialization of the state.

My last meeting with him was during the turbulent times in the state surrounding Nandigram and Singur. He was still calm and composed, just as he was before. Still smiling. Still confident. A dreamer. During that interview, my wife, a professor of Bengali literature, was with me. She asked Buddhadeb Bhattacharjee about the future of Bengali language and literature in West Bengal. Buddha Da replied, "There is no need to worry. Bengali language and literature will survive, no matter the concerns." Despite all the controversies surrounding the political Buddhadeb Bhattacharjee, there was no doubt about the pure passion that the former student of Presidency College had for Bengali art and literature. His passing during a time of deep illness in the world is a cause for sorrow and pain.

Soumitra Dastidar: Indian filmmaker and writer.