4 min readNov 13, 2024 10:29 AM IST
First published on: Nov 8, 2024 at 04:35 AM IST
We need to finalise the subject for this week’s column. Any ideas? The winter session of Parliament is still more than a fortnight away, so the piece we planned on pre-legislative consultation of bills is not entirely topical. Hold for now. Do one on Indo-Canada ties? Any issue on public policy which will make for an engaging 800 words? How about: Five reasons which will influence the polls in Jharkhand and Maharashtra? Political. Topical. Insightful (whatever that means!).
Control. Alt. Delete.
This one is all heart. No stats. No deep dive data. No BC (Before ChampionPM) on the state of the economy when compared with AD (After Demigod). No political smart one-liners. Leave all that aside.
This week’s column is about Dr Sandip Chatterjee (63) and Ratul Sood (58), two people from Kolkata I knew. This week’s column is about Rohit Bal (63) and Bibek Debroy (69), two people from Delhi who I had never met, but had only read about. All four are gone. This is not a quadripartite obituary. Nor a dirge to four accomplished gentlemen who dwelt in an urban jungle, aka an Indian city. Their recent deaths — all of them were about the same age as me — have made me think a little more about life. And living. As John Lennon put it: “Life is what happens to you, while you’re busy making other plans!”
Growing up, football was by far my favourite outdoor sport that I played. You will never guess what my favourite indoor “sport” was. Contract bridge! My dad encouraged my two younger brothers (Andy and Barry) and me to learn bridge in our early teens. There was a phase in my 20s and 30s when I was playing bridge three times a week. I never played beyond the local club level, but loved the sport. Alas. Between shooting multi-cam quiz shows in Mumbai television studios and the last two decades in politics, the fascinating card game had become a memory.
Last week that changed.
After more than 25 years, my old bridge mates organised a three-hour session at the DI, a club in Kolkata we call our second home. There was Joe (94), Elias (84), Nikki (79) and a 63-year-old. Post the game, they assured me that I hadn’t lost my touch. What an afternoon. With boyish enthusiasm, I shared a photo of the session with my two siblings. Here, verbatim, is what one of them replied on WhatsApp.
“This afternoon was huge for three reasons.
(i) That you made the time to dig deep — and DO what you really wanted to do, even if it’s once in a while!
(ii) These gentlemen are still fit and mentally alert at 94, 84, and 79 — and DOING what they want to do!
(iii) You are still good at it — means that your mind can “unclutter” itself when you need to.”
What else do I have to share on this subject about living life to the full? Surely we need to put in a couple of more paragraphs. Or maybe punch in an anecdote or two. After all, the understanding with this newspaper is that the column I write should be “about 800 words.” The word count now says 550 words.
So what now? Write another 200 words to reach the target, the goal, the destination. Or just enjoy the journey.
I’ll choose the latter. Thanks
The writer is MP and leader, All India Trinamool Congress Parliamentary Party (Rajya Sabha). Research credit: (the writer’s parents) the (late) Joyce and Neil O’Brien
What else do I have to share on this subject about living life to the full? Surely we need to put in a couple of more paragraphs. Or maybe punch in an anecdote or two. After all, the understanding with this newspaper is that the column I write should be “about 800 words.” 
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