Dr. Francis Xavier
When I joined the college as a young lecturer in 1979 Manoranjan Bhakta was a first time MP. He was a frequent visitor to the college. He liked to meet and exchange ideas with the lecturers, but there were many firebrand leftist that time who used to taunt him. In spite of that he would always keep his cool, never betraying any emotions. I started liking him for his mild manners and gentle way of dealing with people. It was only later I understood that he was a consummate politician. The way he conducted himself with the Chief Commissioners and Lieutenant Governors showed his political acumen. He never lost his cool and always managed to get what he wanted.
Even when the government at the Center changed, and he was voted out, he continued to enjoy the respect of the administrators. His dealings with the people were to be admired. His house, in Port Blair, or Delhi, was always full of people. He would lovingly invite people to come and sit by him on his cot and listen to them. When I needed an interview with the MoS Defence to discuss the case of my cousin he arranged it in no time. He enjoyed good relations with MPs of all parties. He was not the flamboyant types who wore Khadi but led a flashy life style.
Although age caught up with him, and disease crippled him, he continued to meet the people, always greeting them with a gentle smile and friendly greeting. The tsunami hit him also very hard. He saw the islands he loved destroyed before his very eyes. A new, bearded Bhakta Babu emerged. In spite of the sickness he was everywhere, visiting all the camps, lobbying with Delhi for more aid and funds. When Prof Kapse fell sick and was admitted in Bombay hospital he wanted to visit him. He was himself not so well. I received him at Bombay airport and took him to the hospital. During the long drive he was full of concern for the LG. He confided that he was himself not so well, needing assistance. After the visit when we came down to the lobby he shyly asked if there was a place where he could eat something. I took him to the hospital canteen where we shared a dosa. After that I took him back to the airport. His flight was early in the morning. He gave me his MP card etc to fill up the forms for a night’s stay in the airport retiring room. His hand was too unsteady to write. While I said goodnight after getting the room he thanked me profusely and enquired about my cousin for whom he arranged appointment many years ago. His memory was fantastic. Even after that whenever he would see me he would come over and greet me warmly.
Surely we’ll miss you Bhakta Babu. There’s a lot the MPs of today can learn from you. Rest in peace. You live in the hearts of the people of Andamans.
