A legend in his lifetime, the grand old man of Indian art passed away on Thursday. Leaving bereft hundreds of people to whom he was an icon. Barely two years ago his hundredth birthday was celebrated with great joy. At an event at the IGNCA, over a hundred artists had paid handsome visual tributes to Bhabesh-da.
He stood up and made a fine speech and struck as handsome a figure at 100 years as would be the envy of many younger men! With his flowing, white beard and piercing eyes his whole persona spelled the word ‘artist’.
But it was not his vast age and amazing experience that spanned seven decades of the cultural life of Delhi, but those particular qualities of head and heart which constitute the truly emancipated and liberal mind that endeared him to all those whose lives he touched.
The ordered simplicity of Baba’s life was an example to all of us. I would meet him on our walks around Humayun’s Tomb in New Delhi’s East Nizamuddin until last year, walking briskly with a few of his early morning buddies.
He would then retire upstairs to his studio to paint and would always be available to meet his friends and admirers in the afternoon in the austere but beautifully aesthetic sitting room of his house in the same locality.
B.C. Sanyal moved to this city in the 1930s from Lahore, and he was to become the catalyst for change in the thinking of artists at the time. For instance, he was instrumental in forming the Delhi Shilpi Chakra, which was an important focal point for the revival of national artistic aspirations in the wake of the onslaught of western thought and artistic techniques and mannerisms.
Sanyal not only created a large body of work but was renowned as a pedagogue whose students still acknowledge their allegiance to him and appreciation for his guidance and influence.
Personally, I was drawn to Baba because I could not think of anyone else I knew who was as pure as him — pure of thought and action, untouched by fame or materialism, innocent in his greatness. B.C. Sanyal was a truly realised being.