Remembering Munish

I met Munish for the first time in the Faculty Room of Delhi’s Hans Raj College. I had received a Research Fellowship and enrolled for the Ph. D program at Delhi University. My close friend and class-mate, J.K., had found a job as a Lecturer at the Hans Raj College. Munish had also been hired as a Lecturer in Mathematics at the same time as J.K. He had just finished his Master’s degree from the same college and the Principal of the College, Shanti Narain, a well-known Mathematician himself, immediately offered him a job at the college.

Munish and I soon became close friends. Soon, our circle of friends expanded to six. We were all bachelors. We all had completed our Master’s degree from Delhi University. We were all from Middle Class families. Munish was the common link for all of us. We would meet every Saturday at La Boheim, a trendy restaurant in Connaught Place in those days, order tea, paneer pakoras and pastries and shoot the breeze. After the restaurant, we would walk the corridors of Connaught Circus and Jan Path and did what bachelors always do, watch the girls go by and pass complimentary remarks about the pretty ones.

The group of friends continued to grow closer. We would not only meet on Saturdays but visit each others’ families on occasions like birthdays and family weddings. Munish was the lynchpin of the group who ensured that everyone was informed of such occasions – not an easy task during that period when only one of us had a telephone at home. If someone missed a meeting, it was Munish who would show up on his Rajdoot motorcycle to enquire the reason for their absence.

During the fullness of time, we all got married but the group continued to meet, first along with their wives and then along with their children. The Restaurant was no longer a suitable meeting place and the venue of meetings was shifted between one park or another. The favourite meeting place was, at first, the Buddha Jayanti Park, followed by the Lodhi Gardens. The bachelor meetings gave way to family picnics with pot-luck dinners, frisby and cricket. I missed these meetings as I left India soon after my marriage but continued to participate in them whenever I was in Delhi.

Munish did not neglect his professional development either. He continued with his doctoral studies while he was teaching at the College and specialised in Operations Research. He was hired as a Professor at IIT, Delhi, where he eventually became the head of the Operations Research department. He became famous in the field of Operations Research and was a regular invitee to the annual conference on the subject. He was widely published and received many awards for his work. After his retirement in 2003, he was made a Professor Emeritus in Mathematics.

Munish was an idealist. We all talked during our bachelor days about social evils like the dowry system. When the time came for our marriage, none of us demanded dowries from our in-laws but none of us refused it either. None, that is, except Munish who refused even to have an elaborate wedding. Even though it was an arranged marriage, he insisted on a simple temple ceremony. The “marriage party” consisted only of close family and the dowry a symbolic one-rupee note.

Munish was also a friend one could count on. Three years after we became friends, I left India for Madison, Wisconsin, to pursue further studies. After my departure, Munish kept visiting my family and even remembered to take birthday gifts for my nephew and niece. They are now grown up but still have fond memories of Munish uncle.

In the end, Munish’s devotion to his profession and putting others before himself became the cause of his death. Munish had gone to Bangalore to attend an international conference on Operations Research. While walking out of the conference hall, he saw an assassin pointing a gun at his colleague, Lalitha, who was walking ahead of her. He quickly stepped forward and pushed her down. He took the bullets aimed at Lalitha and fell to the ground. A violent end to the life of a most humble and non-violent man.

Munish is survived by his wife, a son, a daughter, a son-in-law, a grandson and a large number of friends and admirers.