Forever a gentleman

A leftist by conviction, fired, perhaps, by the oratorial skills of his uncle, the legendary Communist leader P.T. Punnoose, Tharyan felt at home in the National Herald, in the company of the doyen of Indian journalism, M. Chalapati Rao. But the National Herald8217;s socialism and his family8217;s aspirations did not often match. Editorship and the large accommodation in Lutyens8217; Delhi that came with it were not supplemented by a wage hike.Yet, he would have continued holding aloft the banner of the paper founded by Jawaharlal Nehru8217; but for a strange happening. One evening when he suddenly returned to his office to check something, he found to his utter horror a manager and an editorial colleague in a state of undress on his sofa. He had had no inkling of the amorous liaisons that went on in his room after office hours. Tharyan could send the femalecolleague packing, but the manager did not spare him. He saw to it that eventually the editor had no option but to leave the paper. 8220;See the irony. He had his pleasure and I had to pay the price,8221; reminisced Tharyan decades later. Despite the bitterness of parting, he never let the world know its exact cause, for the lady8217;s honour8217; was important to him.

It would have been a real nightmare supporting his family but for Khushwant Singh offering him a leader-writer8217;s job in the Hindustan Times. For the first time he realised the virtues of security of tenure and timely payment of salaries. Having edited a newspaper, many in his position would have found the new job infra dig. But not Tharyan, who found happiness in turning out an edit a day on topics as varied as Laloo8217;s peccadilloes and El Nino. He never boasted about his days as an editor, though he enjoyed recounting anecdotes to his select band of friends.

One such incident occurred during the Assam agitation, which Tharyan had gone to cover. A chainsmoker, he ran out of cigarettes while interviewing then AASU chief and now Chief Minister P.K. Mahanta. He turned to a lanky young man who was standing there, took out some money and requested him to fetch a packet of cigarettes. The young man complied. Tharyan realised that the errand boy was none other than Phukan, the number-two in the organisation and later Deputy Chief Minister.

In a profession of competing egos, he was conspicuously ego-less. He had bosses who had once deferentially waited upon him. They found in him the ideal second-in-command. But he was an ideal boss too, who would delegate authority, as I can vouchsafe from my experience as his deputy in Patna8217;s Hindustan Times. He was a person who begot trust. As he gently passed away8217; on Tuesday, the world became poorer by a cheerful, unassuming, thorough gentleman.