The Beauty and Kelly

Kuljit Singh has been out of my scheme of things for a long, long time. In fact ever since he disappeared soon after his Masters in 1973. Yes, he was a year senior to us and majored in Psychology, but he would hang around with the boys (and girls, too) of our department.

Pinka would call him the Devil in the guise of a man.

Why? Le me explain

Well, he had the mischievous smile of a devil on his face almost all the time. He was short, dark, and brilliant. his eyes glinted wickedly behind a pair of glasses. His complexion was the color of polished ebony, and his teeth gleamed brilliantly in the dusky face. He was a couple of years older than our classmates so everyone respected him. Moreover, he was the gold medal types, so they held him in awe.

While some of our classmates -- Rana, Ranjit Sohal, Brownie, et al, would slog, slog and slog in the library, Kuljit Singh wore his learning lightly. it seemed to rest naturally on his shoulders -- the weight of knowledge that brought him a gold medal every time he appeared for an exam.

He never slogged. Possibly, in the privacy of his hostel room he would pore over his books, but around eleven o'clock he would come happily to the reading room of the library. Lightfooted, he would almost come skippety-skip. Instinctively we would all look up from our books.

Pinka would sigh:"There comes the devil in the guise of a man to tempt Ranjit!"

Sure enough, Ranjit Sohal would shut his books and follow Kelly to the the Stu C. Sometimes we all would troop after them. the next forty minutes would be spent over coffee -- measuring out our lives with coffee spoons, as we loved quoting Eliot. After that one would be too tired to return to books again. At least Ranjit Sohal would be.

In deference to his learning, Kuljit Singh was called Dr Kelly by one and all. Like the others, he sat for the Civil Services and qualified in the IPS. I lost contact with him soon after.

A few moments remained in the musty attics of the memory -- Kuljit Singh pottering around in the Reference section, pulling out a book -- the same book everytime -- and poring over it. It was an illustrated book.Lovely pictures, some poems. The coffee-table variety. One day he sat on the same table as I and showed me some pictures. In particular he paused for long on a page with a Robert Frost poem:

Nature's first green is gold
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

The accompanying picture was that of a forest -- different shades of green, tall trees with the slant rays of the sun streaming through the branches. some undergrowth, some flowers. Just the kind of scene that would remain etched on the brain long after you shut the book.

On another occasions he would pick up some other illustrated book, interesting, pictorial, not the cussed academic sort. Leafing through it, he would share a few pages with us before taking us all to the Stu C.

On a couple of occasions he dropped me home on his scooter.

A couple of months later we parted. He had broken his leg in an accident and was going home to be with his parents. A few letters were exchanged and then life moved on in different directions for both of us.

I did remember his birthday, though -- 10th November -- a date on which my Raju was born some three or four years later.

Kuljit Singh went out of sight and out of mind. Sometimes, when I would bump into a common friend, his name would come up in the conversation. Once, when Raju was just four or five years old and still in his baby cot, Kuljit came over with a common friend. He looked at Raju and seemed a bit emotional -- Raju has that effect on people -- and then Kelly disappeared into nothingness again.

I met him last week after almost 30 years in Jaipur. In between he was posted in Chandigarh for three years but he apparently was too busy to catch up with old friends. Or perhaps they were not so important any more. Anyway, I did not get to see him at all. Although I would occasionally call him on 10th November, conversation would be brief.

And then I decided to visit the Jaipur Festival this year. He being posted in Jaipur, I got in touch with him.

Finally I did meet Kuljit Singh again. And saw his wife, Sundara, for the first time.

What a beauty, if ever there was one! Sundara is tall, gracious,and lovely -- in appearance as well as demeanour!

Kuljit Singh is what he always was -- but he has gone grey now -- actually white. And he wears a turban. As he said, when he started balding he decided to become a sardar, grew his beard and put on a turban.

They have two sons, both married. Sundara showed me pictures of the family over dinner. Tall, strapping boys, gorgeous wives.

"Fortunately, both the boys took after their mother," says Kelly with his characteristic good humour.

Sundara teases him playfully from time to time.

It was a pleasure, indeed, catching up with Kelly again. Kelly and Sundara, two very different individuals making a go of it together happily!

Before I make a faux pas, let me check on his designation. Google tells me he is a DGP now. OOPs! Kelly, you done well for yourself, man!

Those Stu C coffees are now replaced by the dinner in Little Italy but the warmth is the same.

A toast to the two of you!