Shimmer of Hope - Ranjit Sinha (May 31, 1960 - July 31, 2019)

Ranjit Sir

It was a gloomy afternoon and when I say gloomy, I mean I was sad. Really sad. Seeing his face would always bring a smile to my face. I would greet him, he'd greet me back and then we went behind the Police Station (a carefully designed movie-set in the premises of my college from where I did my graduation). He used to smoke a lot of cigarettes and was told by people that it was a bad habit. I remember reading it in a comment on Facebook. When I used to ask him about his cigarettes, he used to tell me that he knows what he is smoking and the quality of the product and he even told me why they are so cheap. Knowledge was his weapon. Photographers in the college treated him like a knight in shining armour who will solve all their problems. Guess what, he did. His words were enough. Getting back to that evening...

There I was sitting on this elevated cemented structure, a narrow line near a public toilet that was used by industry professionals. I once whined about the smell, he stood there and gave me a look (all of this happened at an unprecedented rate). He then told me that he loves travelling in Indian Railways and that smell was a reminder of that compartment. So easily he changed my perspective at times. Such ease that he bulwarked all the negativity. Where is he now? Last I heard, he was in Goa teaching photography to countless students. Ritaban Biswas, one of my juniors in college shifted to Goa in order to learn photography from him, at The One School. I hope I am right about that Ritaban? Please correct me if I am not. Sidetracked again; so elevated cemented structure...

I started crying as he was leaving. I still don't know how that happened. I felt so alone at that moment, very isolated. He was almost walking away. I felt that he didn't consider it his business and why should he? He was so busy those days. He was always busy. Except for the time when he was with his two dogs. He named them, I have never been able to recall their names. They were very protective of him. For a moment, he moved his head and saw me crying. There are people in this world who wouldn't care if a person is crying. "Yeah so?" He was not that person. He scolded me in a funny manner and said "Aey! (rest of the words, I can't recall)" But that aey worked wonders and I stopped crying.

From Bihar, this man gave almost 30 years of his life to photography. Most of which were involved in teaching it to others. He often used to quote "grains are good" whenever someone stated otherwise. Traditional views and adjustable mentality made him one gem of a person. A good teacher. What a personality! I am throwing out opinions out there but you should envy me for the fact that I had him. I told my good friend Navdeep about him and even he envied me but that felt good. Because even he realized that a student who came to him smiling when a person had died must mean something. 

Forever shall your lessons live on...