Laugh and the world laughs with you; weep and you weep alone. There are people who come to this world just to make people smile. God sends them to make us realise how to live life and exude happiness even during the saddest of times. The first time I met poet Joydev Basu (aptly named after the creator of Gita Govinda) was at the Coffee House in Kolkata, when I was in Class IV. My mother introduced me to Joydevkaku or JB (as I used to fondly call him). We became friends almost instantly. Yes, both of us were movie buffs and bibliophiles. We loved everything about movies and books — cutting across every genre and every language.
As years passed by, he became my friend, my philosopher and, more importantly, my confidante. He was the big brother (15 years older) I never had. I shared with him most of my troubles and took his advice on almost every issue — from girlfriend problems to academics. He was always there, ever ready to vanish all my troubles with his smile. Over the years, he gained fame as a poet and his books were doing pretty well in Kolkata. He was also writing scripts for a few television series. Soon JB became busy with his work and I had to leave Kolkata for my job. Initially, we used to write to each other, not email, but letters, once in a few months and then that stopped as well. But he was in touch with my parents and loved a special bhetki preparation that was my mother’s specialty.
Two years ago, I came to know from my mother about his personal troubles and his subsequent health problems. But if you are there with him, you can never sense any of his sadness or the troubles that he was going through. His sense of humour and smile acted as a shield keeping his tears hidden deep inside. JB was a poet, professor, philosopher and also very popular (both for his poetry and his looks). But, most importantly, he was my only confidante and adviser. He made everyone laugh but never shared his sorrow with anyone. He wept alone.
As years passed by, he became my friend, my philosopher and, more importantly, my confidante. He was the big brother (15 years older) I never had. I shared with him most of my troubles and took his advice on almost every issue — from girlfriend problems to academics. He was always there, ever ready to vanish all my troubles with his smile. Over the years, he gained fame as a poet and his books were doing pretty well in Kolkata. He was also writing scripts for a few television series. Soon JB became busy with his work and I had to leave Kolkata for my job. Initially, we used to write to each other, not email, but letters, once in a few months and then that stopped as well. But he was in touch with my parents and loved a special bhetki preparation that was my mother’s specialty.
Two years ago, I came to know from my mother about his personal troubles and his subsequent health problems. But if you are there with him, you can never sense any of his sadness or the troubles that he was going through. His sense of humour and smile acted as a shield keeping his tears hidden deep inside. JB was a poet, professor, philosopher and also very popular (both for his poetry and his looks). But, most importantly, he was my only confidante and adviser. He made everyone laugh but never shared his sorrow with anyone. He wept alone.
