Remembering Rabin Goswami Sir

I am not sure why I have not been able to write about Sir in all these days although his death affected me very badly. On hearing the news of his demise on Friday, 26th June, 2026, I first froze, then came acute cramps, on the third day I started to cry and kept crying for the next three days.  It was only on Wednesday when I needed to write a condolence message on behalf of Sishugram that I first forced myself to find words to say what I felt. But even then I wrote about what he meant for all of us, as a senior and very active member of the Trust Board, as the Koka for all our girls at Sishugram, as a teacher, as a writer and editor, as a lover of plants and vegetables, there were so many roles that he played...

But still I kept my own feelings and emotions boxed, scared that they would overwhelm me. But why did it hurt so much? First because I felt very cheated on Friday morning when Amlan wrote asking me to pray as his father was on his final stretch! I still did not understand and asked whether he was still reading Whatsapp messages, to which he replied, 'He is in sleep. Peaceful. At home.'  And soon after came the devastating news.  Sir had called me from hospital in Delhi saying he was much better. Amlan had said he was better but still weak and needed to some time to recover. Then he came back to Guwahati in early May and we all assumed that he was recovering and would soon be with us again. But then there was some activity in the Trust earlier in June to which he did not respond at all -- normally he is always the first one to come up with a reaction. That set the alarm bells ringing for me. But I was too scared to ask Amlan. And by the time Amlan wrote last Friday, it was too late, even to bid goodbye. Being physically away from Guwahati and hence unable to participate in the various ceremonies has meant that there has been no closure. It is only today, on the Sapindan day, encouraged by Amlan's outpouring of grief in the form of almost a very poignant poem per day, I sit down to write what I can about a man who had come to mean so much for me.

Amlan and Aparna have been just amazing in their grace even in the face of such devastation. Here is Aparna's beautiful tribute to her father-in-law:

How can one encapsulate a giant of a man in just a few words? 

We have been absolutely overwhelmed by the love we are receiving from the thousands of people my late father-in-law touched in some way. 

We would always joke that he knew half of Guwahati - here's the thing: more than half of Guwahati also knew him! 

His knowing was never transactional, though. It was intimate: someone's son needing an admission, another's daughter needing a job, someone grieving a loss or another celebrating the birth of a grandchild. 

Someone wrote - he was so kind. We are hearing accounts of the personal interest he took in the lives of his students, going out of his way to help them however he could. He knew them by name and could offer details about them with remarkable felicity.

Many people are writing about how he had stood by them in their times of despair, encouraging them to take a difficult step, and circling back to see how things were going.

The many whatsapp groups he was part are lighting up with tributes to him. Newspapers are writing about his death - and the life he led.

A couple of weeks ago, as he sat in his balcony, considerably reduced after multiple health battles that began in December last year, he quietly said - As long as there is life, there is happiness. 

I wanted to tell him that he was the one bringing happiness with his child-like enthusiasm and ability to find joy in little things wherever he was...

He carried himself lightly, the memory of having grown up in the village deep within him. Perhaps it was that which gave him the ability to "talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch".

In a deeply cynical world, he carried goodness unconsciously, selflessly. 

All I can think of, as I sit in the house he made with such love, is what he'd say to me if he knew how he was being celebrated in death.

Eyes twinkling, he would have poked me in the shoulder, a mix of delight and amazement writ large on his face - 'Are there really', he would have asked, 'so many people remembering this old man?' And then he would have shaken his head, and with a huge smile and continued - 'I think this calls for a special cup of tea!'

Adieu, Papu. I can imagine you regaling your new friends with stories wherever you now are.

To which I replied: Yes, we must celebrate him with a special cup of tea! Thanks for sharing this very personal tribute, Aparna. 

We have all been blessed to have had Sir in our lives... 

And he has been a great teacher, not just of English literature! May he live on, not only in our thoughts and memories, but also in our actions, in every flower or vegetable patch we tend, and in our dealings with this 'deeply cynical world'.

And to Amlan, who had shared this very special tribute with all of us I wrote: 

Amlan, I can't believe that you and Aparna are able to be so gracious even at this moment of acute grief. God keep the three of you safe. If he doesn't, the blessings that the love, respect and good will your father earned in this universe, will. 

What more can I say? We were all lucky to have had Sir in our lives. Such genuineness is rare, such simplicity and affection even rarer... may we learn from his example what it means to be a good human being... 

Unable to handle my grief, I kept writing bits and pieces in our Trust Board whatsapp group: 

It was because of Goswami Sir that I decided to return to Sishugram although I had promised myself that I would not get associated with any of my mother's public activities. One day, on finding me upset about the fact that all the institutions that my mother had so carefully tended in her lifetime were not doing well after her demise, Sir told me, 'If you don't do anything about it yourself, how can you accuse others of not helping?' 

So in some sense, although Ajay Mama played an even greater proactive role in the restructuring process of Sishugram, we have a lot to thank Goswami Sir for, for his ever smiling positive attitude, for his ever readiness to participate, for his love, care and concern for everyone and for his love for the world around him. 

There are probably more successful human beings, but there are/were not many who are/were better humans than Sir. We have lost something irreplaceable in his demise... that is why it is so hard to say goodbye...

Often he would call to encourage me to keep going, if there was a problem, he would be the first person to volunteer to help to sort it out, and every time I expressed my annoyance and anguish at something, he would try to turn it around and make it seem positive, he would ask me to be patient, to not be so direct and immediate in my reactions to people and events. 

If one was asked only one word to describe him the word would be KIND!

Sir, what will I do now?

I did not have Goswami Sir as my teacher in Cotton College. But he used to come to teach English to the first few batches of B. Tech. students when IIT Guwahati had just started and we were functioning out of the Insitution of Engineers Building in Panbazar. I think I met Sir for the first time then. He was always smiling, friendly and kind, and had a word of greeting for everyone. After taking his class he would often come and sit for a few minutes with whoever was available before leaving. That kind happy face with that twinkling smile stayed with me...

Then over the years began a loose contact over Facebook. Photos of the amazing produce from his rooftop garden fascinated me.  It was over Facebook that Sir goaded me to do something for Sishugram before accusing others of inaction. And he practised what he preached too. So when the Sishugram Trust Board was reconstituted, with Ajay Mama as the Chairman and me as the Managing Trustee, Sir happily agreed to join us as a Trustee. 

But for him, being a Trustee did not mean just attending Trust Board meetings... Whenever we needed to go to meet the DC in Amingaon or the Chief  Secretary in Dispur, Goswami Sir would always make himself available. How many times have we done the long journey to and from Sishugram (via Jalukbari and Amingaon) together in my car, chatting all the way, talking about problems, worries and doubts? Sir would come with me even when Baideo was laid up in bed, and needed constant care and supervision. There were times when worries about how he would manage his finances would beset him. Sometimes he was exhausted mentally with all the various demands made on him.  But still he would not say no to joining me. 'It is a joy for me to be with the girls,' he would tell me. 'It works like tonic.' But even when we travelled together to North Guwahati he made sure that I did not have to go anywhere to pick him up or to drop him, he would either take the bus or come by car and park it in Panchabati.

His ever readiness to do his bit and the many different things he tried to do well at the same time is summed up very beautifully in this poem by Amlan:

Please find my spectacles

bondona,  please bring me my spectacles

I have work to do

two more answer scripts to correct,  the last of this lot

that meeting to attend

they will discuss something important today

a marriage I cannot miss

and I have to pick up some vegetables on my way back

for today's fish and curry.

the sun has opened its tiger teeth and the day will blaze like never before.

I'd rather get my tasks done before it gets too hot

or too late

before everything else comes in the way.

and there is that meeting

on the other side of the swelling river 

where they stand solemn 

as grim shadows.

they are not my kind 

but i've promised them I'll turn up

for I never miss a meeting

and I am always on time

for my appointment

though I wear no watch on my sleeve.

but first i must finish the work to be done. 

bondona, bring me my spectacles please

I have left them behind somewhere 

in the past where darkness breathes

and the lone light shines around my photograph filled with flowers

fragrant for a better view.

He was the one who was most enthusiastic about our Golden Jubilee Celebrations on 21st December; he had even booked himself a ticket for the 23rd December so that he would be able to be present. But fate had other plans. He was really unhappy that he had to leave a few days before the 21st and could not attend the big event. But he made sure he did his bit for the event, as the Chairman of the Souvenir Advisory Committee, before he left for Delhi. The last time I went to see him at his home in December, Sir was complaining of a pain in the back, which he attributed to spondalysis or simply a bad posture, which on closer scrutiny turned out to be a problem with his kidneys! Then began that long phase of treatment from which he did not recover...

Apart from kindness, his 'real' concern for others and his absolute readiness to do his bit, Sir had another rare virtue -- he took himself very lightly... there was no ego, no trace of vanity, or of superiority in him. That is why he could mix with and come close to everyone... chief ministers as well as orphaned children... and he never behaved differently with different people... everyone was welcome into his warm embrace, and he really cared. I don't remember his speaking ill of anyone at any time. Sir and I had some differences of opinion regarding the current dispensation, and although he was always very transparent about which side he was on, he harboured no ill-feeing or hatred towards those who thought otherwise.

I will miss him everytime I have a problem and need someone to listen to me, I will miss him everytime I am down and out and need someone to cheer me up, I will miss him everytime I run foul with someone and need him to play the peace-maker, I will miss him everytime I say something on the Whatsapp group and no one else responds, I will miss him and his gentle voice calling me to ask, Minakhi, kene aasa? kiba khobor paisane? moi kiba koribo paro neki?, I will miss him and miss him in countless different ways... If one ever needs an example of a good human being or a lesson on what it really means to be human, one has to look no further than Rabin Goswami Sir.... 

Let me end with a poem that his son Amlan wrote on the day of his father's shraddh, which sums it all up beautifully:

appeasing the gods 

please don't be angry, papu

that I could not save you.

the gods did not will it.

they keep a count of how many summers are due

and if the winter didn't come

this time 

it was all beyond me.

but there were glorious summers, papu

when we breezed with the swinging sun.

there were countless evenings of monsoon rain

when it felt like sheer bliss

and we had so many days of life

abundant and glorious 

that we forgot death standing

waiting patient around the corner

like a curious cat.

so papu, please don't be angry today.

it doesn't suit you

the one whose temper is a pleasant wind

that greets everyone at the door

and takes you by the hand

to the verandah of time

where a soft breeze gently caresses your face

free of storm and worry.

that's why we remember you today

as the one who found rest 

from torment

who found another place

from the one we know.

the mantras will do their subtle tricks

powerful to appease even the angriest god 

I know you need no mantra

for peace

a deep breath is all you need

and a hearty meal with friends

joking about the weather

even the darkest storm

behind which a sun sits blissfully smiling

asking for nothing.