My friend Bal Krishnan Balan

Shyamal Banerjee

Post lunch nap was disturbed when the courier boy rang the calling bell. He delivered a parcel. I opened it. It contained hand written notes on nicely maintained notebooks. The covering letter was written by Balan’s son. He mentioned that the enclosures were his grandfather’s diaries and as per his wish, I was supposed to be custodian of his diaries. 

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Bal Krishnan Balan, more popularly known as BKB among the friend circles, has been working with me for a long time, rather till his death.  He had requested his friends many a time not to call him by the short name “BKB”, when he learnt that in Hindi BKB could be an abbreviation for “Bali Ka Bakra” meaning sacrificial goat or scapegoat.  

            After a brilliant academic career Balan joined service, though he had a hidden desire for continuing higher studies. Circumstances forced him to give up the idea of going abroad to pursue it.

His father was a scholar and taught linguistic courses in the university. His scholastic attitude made him indifferent to his health. He was a chronic diabetic patient. He ignored doctor’s advice on diet and for leading a disciplined life. In due course of time, his son (our Balan) and daughter-in-law had to pay very dearly for his indifferent attitude to his health. His legs started developing diabetic boils. Due to further deliberate negligence, these boils turned into gangrene. Balan was planning to go for higher studies. Doctors gave disturbing news that his father’s fingers in the legs, which were affected by gangrene, were to be amputated. After analyzing all pros and cons, Balan decided to forgo his plan for higher studies, as there was no body in the house to look after his father. No “old age” home agreed to accommodate, as he required the help of an attendant round the clock. Balan’s mother had passed away long ago. Later his father resorted to the use of wheel chair as part of his leg had to be amputated to stop further spread of gangrene to upper parts of body.

Balan’s wife was a pious lady. She looked after her father-in-law. To help her, a nurse was employed by Balan so that his father could get maximum care.

I used to visit Balan’s house and meet his father. When he found my interest in studying books on all topics, he lent me books by different authors namely by Simone de Beauvoir, Jean-Paul Sartre, Arthur Koestler, Ann Rynd and many others. While returning them, he discussed on those books. My reading habits had to be sharpened and I had to go through those books without skipping any part. Balan thanked me for giving company to his father. In turn I admitted that I was fortunate to share the wisdom gained by him in his entire life. The elderly man had the strong mental will. Though he neglected his body, he pursued his study, maintained a diary and prepared notes for his students.

Balan followed his father in the seriousness in his work. His children performed well in studies. His son got admission in engineering college. His daughter opted for language-study in college. She was influenced by her grand father to opt for this course.

Balan’s father’s health started deteriorating further. His movement became very restricted. He stopped going to university. Sometimes he asked me to bring books of his choice from the university-library. Balan did not like it. One day I explained that it was beneficial to me also. I was getting an opportunity to dig into the old treasure. I added that he had the opportunity to mine them in his house. In my next visit, his father thanked me and blessed me telling that due to his old age he was not able to compose suitable sentence. He could not convince his son that getting help (both solicited and unsolicited) is always beneficial to both the parties. He observed that the situation had changed. People forget the benefactor after getting benefit from him. He explained that in our neghbouring country, one of the revolutionary leaders did not hesitate to kill his doctor, due to difference in political ideology, who had earlier saved him from the jaws of death. This was my last long conversation with him. His acute diabetes made him bed ridden and he passed into unconscious state intermittently. It was very heart rendering to wipe his tears in the bed whenever I visited him in the hospital. Tagore’s famous line “I do not want to die in this beautiful world” was reflected in his sunken eyes. He never forgot to wave at the end of my visit to the hospital. Balan looked after him very sincerely. He appeared as a stoic on those days of hidden grief. The end came to Balan 's father in a peaceful way as he had passed into coma before breathing last.

I attended the funeral and the obituary function organized by the department in the university, where Balan’s father taught. I came to know about his past in the function. Balan never disclosed them in any of our conversation. His father had been close to all national leaders during the freedom struggle. But never joined any political party. His diary during that period is preserved. Speakers recollected the saddest experience in his life. His wife could not be taken to the hospital in an ambulance when she was seriously ill. All activities in town had come to standstill during ‘Quit India’ movement. He tried to take her on his bicycle to a nearby doctor. She died on the way. I wondered if this incidence made him indifferent to his health.

My impression about Balan changed. His sacrifice, by abandoning the plan for higher studies, was a “silent tribute” to his ‘scholarly freedom fighter’ father.  

We continued to work together in the same office. His sincerity to the work remained exemplary. His son passed from the engineering college. Later I came to know that he had persuaded his son not to join the establishment where we were working.

One day we got a telephone call from Balan’s wife that he was admitted in a hospital. I rushed there with my colleagues in the office. The duty doctor called one of us to his chamber for explaining Balan’s condition. He explained that doctors suspected one of the valves in his heart was not functioning properly. It required an open-heart surgery to replace the valve. He advised that Balan should take complete rest till the surgery was over and take medicines regularly.

The surgery was arranged in Vellore Medical College. As his children were grown up, his wife could devote her time to look after him. His son had come to see his father. On the scheduled date they left for the surgery. I wanted to accompany them. Balan came to know that one urgent work in the office required presence of a senior person. Balan persuaded me to attend to the problem on his behalf. I pleaded my best that, the presence of a person in the said office work was superfluous. The seniors had taken the decision. My presence would be redundant and it was not possible to keep quite, when their decision would eventually cause failure. Balan persuaded me to proceed and to convince them on behalf of the team. My counter argument did not bring any result. Since his condition was critical, he was to be kept in good temperament. As a moral responsibility I heeded to his request. On hearing my predicament, one of my seniors in the office agreed to join me in convincing our seniors. We expressed our strong feeling on the data, which were all indicative of a malfunction of the system. But our plea was set aside by top management team. The discussion was not recorded. By evening we were asked to leave the spot and proceed to our working place. The outcome of the test was as we expected. We found that a new term “partially unsuccessful” was used to describe the result of test. I was more interested in knowing Balan’s condition. Surgery was conducted successfully and he was under observation in ICU. We took a sigh of relief that he would come out of the ICU after a few days. By that time the failure of mission would no longer remain a topic for any media discussion. 

I met Balan in his house when he returned from the hospital. Office matter was not discussed. He was very cheerful. There was a festive environment in the house as many relatives and friends poured in to wish him a long life. His wife asked me to stay back for dinner, as it had been her habit not to leave me without dinner when I visited their house to see Balan’s father. I declined the offer giving excuse of urgent work at home. I was afraid that Balan might ask the office matters on dinner table.

Balan joined duty after the recommended period of post operation rest. To our delight, his recovery was satisfactory and during review of his condition, he was found fit on all counts.

We never discussed the topic of said mission failure.

There was a long gap when we faced each other for an office work. We were assigned different activities after slanderous ignominy thrust on us for the failure of the mission. Some of our teammate submitted resignation and took up service in different orgaisation. I remained in the same establishment.

One day Balan informed that he had been advised by the doctor to have a thorough checkup as his heart valve might require replacement. His breathlessness had increased. I suggested him to proceed immediately as per doctor’s advice and leave the activities to us till his return. Balan smiled and quipped, “You are gearing up for another public humiliation”. It seemed that he inherited the carelessness about his personal health. I told that next time it might be the other way.  He procrastinated the follow-up review of his heart valve.  .

I was aware that during this period a goof up had occurred due to amateurish approach to a serious technical problem in another activity. Situation required a overhauling of the entire work. Balan was approached due to his vast knowledge in this area. On the fateful day, he was asked to attend the work urgently. He requested some of his colleagues to proceed, as he was not feeling well. His colleagues argued that, it was a futile exercise, as it would not serve any purpose except pleasing the boss for listening to his whimsical directives. Finally Balan was forced to go. By the time I learnt, I found that he had already left. We got a message that on the way to the work spot, Balan fell seriously ill. He was rushed to hospital. By the time we reached there he was declared dead.

This time, Balan wanted to save me from the ignominy. He took the responsibility upon himself and made a supreme sacrifice.

There was a brief obituary function in office. Due to shortage of time (as the obituary function was arranged towards the end of office hours), many of his colleagues could not pay homage, as vehicles for return trip were about to start.

Did Balan know that he was destined to suffer from the circumstantial conditions? Was he an unfortunate “BKB”? Did he take it as moral responsibility not to make others suffer in a similar way? 

In some form or other the process of rewarding still remains an enigma. Many of the architects of monuments as well as monumental work have been ruthlessly punished. 

To our satisfaction, we could prove our mettle on subsequent operations (of course much later). Our opinion was adhered to for another equally important mission.   I wished Balan could be present during that mission.  I prayed to almighty “Balan’s soul may rest in peace”.

The diaries came to me after these events. Balan’s son apologised that the procedure of obtaining succession certificate and probating of his “grandfather’s will” took a long time. As Balan’s father made a circulation list for his diaries, he tracked the diaries meticulously and ascertained that all surviving members got the chance to go through them as per his grandpa’s desire. My name was at the end. By making me custodian of diaries, they made me more indebted to them.

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