I could not bring Arun Sharma to Akashvani Bhawan that winter.
“Deuta is in town,” his daughter Nandinee had called. “It would be nice if I could bring him over to Akashvani Bhawan one of these days.” Nandinee, my class mate from Guwahati, was talking about her father’s visit to Delhi in 2015. Nandinee had also asked if I could organize a meeting between him and the Director General of All India Radio. I was then posted at AIR’s Directorate General in Akashvani Bhawan.
Arun Sharma was a broadcaster par excellence from the North-east – a highly dedicated, highly decorated officer with a substantial body of work – who continued to contribute to AIR long after his 30-year-old career with the organization ended. Without doubt, someone who was deserving of a little time with the Director General, however busy.
Sometimes life asks so much, time goes so fast that one loses touch with the really important things, I was telling Nandinee the other day. “I too did not pursue it,” she replied very gently.
I had called on him though at his Guwahati home in February 2016. As I would – once every year – during my Guwahati trips to look up my parents....I did not know it would be my last visit though…
Others will tell you he was a towering figure in the Assamese theatre and literary scene. Padma Shri Arun Sharma, who has the rare distinction of winning both the Sahitya Akademy and Sangeet Natak Akademy Awards.
I knew him as a veteran broadcaster. An acclaimed playwright and producer who retired as Director of The North Eastern Service (NES) at All India Radio, Shillong. The NES owes its blueprint to him. He had shared many an anecdote from those days when he lovingly gave shape to it and persuasively fought for its distinctive character with a senior at AIR’s Directorate in Delhi.
I remember those Sunday afternoons when we would huddle around our radio sets to listen to his oh-so-many powerful plays… (47, Google tells me!)
No, I did not have the privilege of working under him. I met him when he became the editor of an Assamese daily in Guwahati immediately after his retirement from AIR in 1990. I worked in the same building in a sister publication in English.
Later, when I moved to AIR Delhi and he would visit the AIR Directorate as a jury member for the Akashvani Annual Awards, he made it a point to drop by and look me up. Soft spoken, down to earth, he was always approachable, unfailingly helpful. In 2005, he produced a wonderful radio documentary at our request to mark Kaziranga’s centenary.
In 2007, broadcasting in India turned 80. I met Arunda and asked him what story from the North-east ought I to include in my special documentary. He handed me his radio feature “THE TRUMPET” which he wrote and produced for a special jubilee of AIR Guwahati and said, “tomaar ji laage loi loba…” “You may take anything from here.” How many can give of themselves so selflessly…
It did not feel that I had not worked with him. He was always a call away…for a sound byte, for advice and encouragement. Last September I called him. I was producing a feature on Kanaklata Barua. Once again, he said I could take out anything from his long-ago feature on Kanaklata preserved in the Archives.
He was always interested in the programmes I was making. He was unwell when my book was released in Guwahati, but knew very well how much it would mean to me that he had released it, and said that it was written like a radio documentary. And that he hoped it was only the beginning (of my writing).
Facebook would throw up many such stories when he passed away, from countless people he had helped and encouraged.
Fame sat lightly on his shoulders. On that last visit to his home, I had commented on the award-laden shelves. Suddenly, he said “You will appreciate these,” and pointed out his three international broadcasting awards - Japan Prize International (1980) for the radio documentary All Buds to Bloom, ABU (Asia-Pacific Broadcasting Union) Award (1982) for the radio documentary Caution: Danger Ahead. And Prix Futura Berlin Commendation certificate (1983) for the radio documentary All Lips to Smile.
In a long and animated conversation, he had shared anecdotes of the making of these radio documentaries and his six-month training stint at BBC, London pointing out a picture of him at BBC. There were other radio programmes he harked back to. I wish I had carried my faithful companion recorder with me that day…
I wish…
I had the opportunity early this month to accompany Fayyaz Sheheryar, DG AIR on his maiden visit to the North-east. As we approached the AIR Guwahati campus, I mentioned to him that it saddened me that this very year in March we had lost Arun Sharma without any warning. I apprised him briefly of Arun Sharma’s legacy as a broadcaster in these parts. Sheheryar ji heard me out and asked some questions as the vehicle swung up the little hillock that houses the AIR Guwahati office.
At the conference hall inside, he asked the assembled Prasar Bharati officials to observe two minutes silence before the meeting commenced. “I have just heard about Arun Sharma on my way up here,” he began. I saw a lot of heads nodding. Appreciatively.
As I bowed mine in those two minutes, I spoke to Arun da’s soul. “I could not arrange that meeting in Delhi…but perhaps it is in the fitness of things that the DG is connecting with you here, in this space where you have spent the better part of your working life.” The Amaltas trees on the hillside swayed in agreement.
Source : Basudha Halder Banerji