Bibek Debroy: Beyond Deadlines

“Sure. What’s the word count and when is the deadline?” These are the only things Bibek Debroy ever wanted to know about my briefs requesting him to write for Outlook. He must be the only columnist I have asked to write on topics ranging from politics, economics, environment, history, mythology, sacred texts, music and theatre. I went through our mail exchanges over the years and only once or twice there has been this kind of a reply to my request: “Struggling with two committees—infrastructure and NCERT. Hence, deluged and ducked. Sorry.”

I have met him only a few times in his office. He may be busy with a hundred things, but the half-an-hour he gave you was entirely yours. There would not be any interruptions, no minions sliding in files or secretaries passing on calls. On any cover theme I had gone to discuss with him—uniform civil code, portrayal of Sita in Ramayana, rising Islamophobia in India—I have always come back thinking how quickly he grasped the issue we were planning with his sharp intellect, just asking a few pointed questions about his article, and what the others were writing. His reply of yes or no—which was luckily for us mostly yes—would have come into my inbox even before I returned to my office.

Debroy’s politics and economics were many times at variance with what Outlook stood for or I believed in. But he was one of the few left in the government of the old-school with whom I could have an invigorating conversation. There was never any vitriol or aggression on the many editorial stance we had taken. He would patiently explain why he didn’t agree with a certain cover story we had done, but would readily agree to write a few issues later.

In any given year, the most number of books sent by publishers on my desk would be by Debroy, on a mindboggling range of topics. His interpretation of the Bhagavad Gita is one of the most lucid I have read. But it was difficult to keep up with his oeuvre as he would be writing books quicker than his readers could finish them. The sheer energy and the rigour of research he brought to any project he led, in such varied fields, are stunning.

In January this year, I had requested him to write a column on the historical, religious and political importance of Ayodhya for a cover story we were planning. His WhatsApp reply read: “I am down with ill health. Will have to pass. Sorry.” I had enquired a few weeks later if he was feeling better and he replied: “My health problems will be a long haul. Tests, hospitals still going on. Thank you for asking.” I had no idea his health problems were so serious and I will always regret not finding out more and visit him when he was admitted to the hospital.

The last column he sent to The Indian Express four days before his death is simply the most moving, most heartbreaking musings one can read on mortality. It sets all of us thinking about the pomposity and seriousness we attach to whatever we are doing. “Who remembers? Nothing seminal about such work. Had a role in the rat race, was temporarily read and passed into oblivion, buried in journal archives,” he wrote. But none whom Debroy touched will forget him.