But on the final day of performance, Govindjee failed to deliver the dialogues of my inner voice from off-stage. He had dropped the unnumbered pages of the script on the floor, and, thus, the text was messed up. I was nervous. I kept on repeating my dialogue in the hope that the next dialogue would be heard from the off-stage. But there was no response. The play

suddenly came to a grinding halt. The audience came to know that the play had come apart. They started hooting, booing and whistling. I shouted—‘Drop the Curtain’. The play was over. I rushed into the wings, seething with anger. But Govindjee was not there. He had vanished for fear of being scolded by me. However, after a few days, he came to see me and explained what had happened. I, selleck kinase inhibitor of course, forgave him for this. Govindjee, sometimes, tells this story with relish. We had founded a literary club named “Aaok”, which met every Friday in a restaurant, or in the home of a friend (Amarnath Bhargava). We read papers on different subjects,

held discussions on contemporary issues, and sometimes invited distinguished persons to speak to us. Govindjee’s participation in “Aalok” was regular and enthusiastic. click here Most of us read papers or talked on subjects, not necessarily limited to the subjects we were pursuing in the University. But Govindjee invariably confined himself to subjects of study for his university degree. He was furiously focused on his academic studies. With his diverse activities, he would not allow his studies to be ignored. One of our mutual friends Mahesh Bharti who had lived at Govindjee’s house for sometime told me that even on the days Govindjee would say that he was feeling unwell, he would sit on his study table for 4–5 h at a stretch. Not surprising, he topped in his BSc and MSc classes. Today, almost while writing this, I look back at the life of Govindjee, and I am reminded of ‘Arjun’, a well-known character in the great Indian epic Mahabharat. Arjun and his brothers were learning archery

from their Guru (the teacher) Drona. One day the Guru decided to test the skills of his disciples. He declared that one who would pierce the eye of the bird sitting on the tree would be declared winner. Accordingly, one of the disciples aimed his arrow at the eye of the bird. The Guru asked him does he see the bird? Does he see the feathers of the bird? Does he see the beak of the bird? The disciple replied in affirmative. Then he shot the arrow but missed the bird’s eye. Similarly, all other disciples of the Guru, except Arjun, admitted seeing the bird, its feathers and its beak while aiming at its eye. They failed to hit the eye. At last, Arjun was summoned. When he aimed his arrow at the eye of the bird, the Guru asked him if he was seeing the bird. Arjun replied—‘No’. Guru again asked him if he was seeing bird’s feather or beak. Arjun replied—‘No’. Guru asked him—‘What do you see?’ Arjun replied—‘I see the bird’s eye. Only the eye, and nothing else.