On April 20, the world lost a man who gave everything for the betterment of his country. The world knows him as Justice Rajindar Sachar. I know him as Dada.
I’ll never know him for the work he did or how you remember him, but I know for sure that he loved every moment of his life. From the moment I saw him first to the moments I know as the last, he always had a smile on his face.
He departed leaving a baton for others to take forward.
A mind of an architect, he planned from the beginning to the end. After his retirement in 1985, when he could have put his feet up, he did the exact opposite. Retirement was a beginning of relentless work as a human rights activist. A former two-term president of the People’s Union of Civil Liberties (PUCL), he opted to be the voice for those whose human rights were being infringed.
A man true to his birth name, ‘Sachar’, he walked on the path of truth, leaving no room for rewards. Refusing the Padma Vibushan was one such decision that baffled me, till it was made clear. He didn’t expect rewards because he pursued his passions, and that was the ultimate reward. The bringing out of the report on the Social, Economic and Educational conditions of the Muslims, aka the ‘Sachar Committee’, was a time I witnessed a true hero, as he worked tirelessly with a core team to reveal the true condition of the Muslim community in India and proposed several remedies to benefit it.
{{/usCountry}}A man true to his birth name, ‘Sachar’, he walked on the path of truth, leaving no room for rewards. Refusing the Padma Vibushan was one such decision that baffled me, till it was made clear. He didn’t expect rewards because he pursued his passions, and that was the ultimate reward. The bringing out of the report on the Social, Economic and Educational conditions of the Muslims, aka the ‘Sachar Committee’, was a time I witnessed a true hero, as he worked tirelessly with a core team to reveal the true condition of the Muslim community in India and proposed several remedies to benefit it.
{{/usCountry}}His energy was evident in his light eyes. Always accompanied by sweets in the depth of the pockets of his Nehru jackets, I soon learned the pockets were broad simply to stack more treats, for which he had a weakness and no shortage.
I’ve been asked several times what it is like to be the grandson of a stalwart. I never seem to give a satisfactory answer. Simply because for me, Dada was never Justice Sachar. He was a grandfather who, like the best lawyers, knew the micro details of my life but was never judgmental, even when our opinions varied.
During my teen years, I remember sitting at the dining table with him. In his calm demeanour, after narrating anecdotes of his eventful past, he told me: “Whatever you do, always stay humble.”
Ever since my preadolescence years, much before I aspired to be a writer, he’d ask me to write an article for him on each of my adventures. It was Dada who prepared me to write about the insights of a man who lived adventurously for the people.
From narrating me stories of the Mahabharata, to calling at midnight on my birthday, or winning every tennis bet, there is no compensation for the riches he has left with his departure.
To Justice Sachar, who I know as Dada.
Sanil Sachar is co-founder of Huddle and a motivational speaker
The views are personal