- My father was never interested in my study but was interested in my education.
- My father never took interest in my admission to Schools and College. It was always my mother.
- My father never visited my School or College. Never. Ever. Not even on Parents Day. Annual Sports Day. Annual Function. Or any Day.
- My father never brought me colour pencils and drawing books. But would present rare edition of Children’s Books: Salvador Dali’s Alice in Wonderland. Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens.
- My father did not have the books of Tagore in his library, of nearly a million books. He had strong disliking on the production and design. A monochrome boring cover and printing not up to the mark. But he respected Rabindranath Tagore.
- My father never brought cakes in our birthdays. But brought egg pudding tied in his handkerchief, from Putiram on his way back from College Street.
- My father never claimed to be an intellectual. But he had knowledge of History, Archaeology, Arts, Botany, Zoology, Travel, Mountaineering and many more.
- My father did not read the newspaper in the morning. But throughout the day he read several English and Bengali newspapers and archived cuttings in journals and kept them in order for his friends.
- My father said he had no sense of music. But listened to Classical Music over radio every single day of his life.
- My father studied in Mitra Institution and then went to Bangabasi College to study with Bengali. But he knew Latin, English, French and other languages, including a spat of Urdu.
- My father could carry on conversation with the writer Kamal Majumder, film maker Satyajit Ray, French Industrialist Jean Riboud. But could also talk with ease with Radhyashyam Jana our family cook, Prasant Jha our Newspaper delivery man, Phulana Shau our Doorman or Bappu Dom our house cleaner.
- My father could not use the type writer. My mother could. But when in emergency we could hear his thick single finger plonking the key. Off course with a lot of spelling mistakes his thick finger falling on different alphabets.
- My father had friends from all religion: Christian, Jews, Muslim and Hindus. And took part in their religious ceremonies, family marriages and other ceremonies.
- My father avoided marriages if NOT invited appropriately. But never failed to attend a funeral or 'shradh' rite by just coming to know of it from the obit column. He said you do not need an invite to the ritual of the dead.
- My father contributed to the buying of the Durga idol in our para puja. But also contributed to the painting of Masjids in Murshidabad.
- My father did not believe in saving either for himself or family. But he was a philanthropist.
- My father did NOT believe in Communism. Nor Capitalism. He believed in his own brand of ‘ism’. Humanism.
- My father was completely at ease to provide a home for fledgling artists or my friends in need including his relatives. But did not relent when someone left home fighting with their parents.
- My father arranged for the marriage of many women, spending lavishly. But never arranged for the marriage of any men.
- My father got up from his chair when any lady entered the room or came to see him. But never got up for any men, even a priest. If he got up it was exceptional, to honour the person.
- My father gave shelter to Muslim families at our home during the Hindu-Muslim riot. But failed to give refuge to my elder brother during the Naxalite era.
- My father did NOT take part in any Independence movement. But religiously flew the National Flag in our home on Republic and Independence Day.
- My father had a strange sartorial sense. He wore a Dhoti with a Half Shirt. But wore a Shoe. Also smoked Cigar or Pipe.
- My father never entered the kitchen and never cooked. But was a connoisseur of food. He knew the history and origin of most recipes.
- My father never expressed his love for my mother overtly. But got up early in the morning to light a petrol mini flame to boil two 'hen' eggs for my mother, a strict prohibition from my grandmother in those days.
- My father introduced my mother as more educated than him, which she was having completed her Masters and being a Head Mistress of a School before marriage. But in fact my father was more knowledgeable on many subjects.
- My father was a teetotaller. But had knowledge of wine and a collection of the finest. I have inherited two bottles of wine from late 1800, one of them being a Bordeaux.
~
For long I did not know what my father did. He was in his library the whole day smoking a cigar or a pipe rummaging through books, maps and prints.
I lied to everybody at school that he was a professor. Because that is the closest image that he resembled. Much latter I realised that he was an antiquarian. The first antiquarian in India. I have not met a second.
His friend. Satyajit Ray has immortalized him by etching a character on him in his Feluda series. Sidhu Jyatha.