Ajay Gudavarthy 
Soon after his release from the prison, following the judegment of the Nagpur bench of the Bombay high court, Sai called and asked me to see him. I dropped by to be greeted by an unusually resolute and gathered person, which I was not expecting. He asked if something could be done about his termination from his job as an assistant professor at a college in Delhi University. I suggested he should first recover and we could think of this later. But he thought an opportunity to be back in teaching would help him recover fast, apart from solving the financial woes his family was facing.
I asked him how he survived jail for 10 long years. He said, without much effort, that he did it by teaching illiterate Adivasi prisoners – many of whom did not know why they had been arrested and most of whom did not have a lawyer to defend them. He said many of them had become graduates through the distant education mode in the 10 years that he mentored them.
Frankly, I was taken aback. Saibaba was 90% disabled, paralysed from below the waist since his childhood. I asked how he had the energy to do that. He was once again nonchalant in saying that he managed his life in prison only because the Adivasi prisoners took care of him. He paused for a while to add that he only managed to get educated because of his mother, who was an illiterate, daily-wage labourer committed to get him educated. For all of his childhood, for want of means, she carried him in her arms to school every day. But for her efforts, he would have remained unlettered like many in his village.
In an era of uber-pragmatism, where forging collective struggles of any kind has become an uphill task, Saibaba represented a rare sagacity of unwavering commitment and a resolute spirit. Collective struggles were a way of drawing meaning and drawing strength for his otherwise weak frame. He expressed his commitment to Adivasi communities and their lives, and to all those struggles that stood in front of them.
He went on to explain a few details of his failing health, but was more focused on how he would like to revive some of his activities. He expressed concern about his failing health, saying that it may not be possible for him to get back to activism like before, but that he would want to complete many of his unfinished writings. During this conversation, he also asked to edit and write a long introduction to over 150 essays that he had written over many years. I promised him that it was the least I could do and we could discuss it over the next few weeks. He also suggested the idea of floating a literary forum, and asked whether I would be associated with it. I wasn’t sure if I was the right person for such an effort.
He was obviously worried about his family and daughter’s education. We discussed a few possibilities. The priority was to get his job back and there was supposed to be a court hearing regarding his continued termination in spite of the acquittal. I approached Digvijaya Singh of the Congress as Sai had suggested he was one of the few politicians who had taken keen interest to reach out and extend any possible help. We met Digvijaya ji a couple of times to discuss what could be done to help Sai get back his job. Sai explained to him how teaching would help him get back his life as he remained a teacher in his heart and was eager to get back to the classroom. While the Congress leader tried his best to help him, the best alternative was to wait for the court judgement.
A couple of weeks after these parleys, I got to know that Sai was hospitalised at the Liver and Biliary Sciences Institute in South Delhi for a long pending complaint of stones in his gallbladder. He had, in fact, just returned from Hyderabad after getting a thorough check up at Nizam’s Institute Of Medical Sciences (NIMS) and looked in good spirits. When we met, he made a surprise request that we go out for lunch, which we did. Within a week or so Vasantha and his family decided to take him back to NIMS as he needed an operation. I spoke to him soon after his operation and he sounded energetic and looked fresh in the photos that were shared. Over the phone, he once again asked if something could be done about his job, and this time he said if getting the job in Delhi University was not a possibility, he could join a private university in Hyderabad. His daughter too had enrolled for her PhD at EFLU in Hyderabad. I was struck by his urgency to get back to life and start doing things.
In Hyderabad, Sai addressed a press meet and a couple of public meetings, where he explained the ordeal he had to undergo in prison without basic facilities that took a toll on his health. We were relieved that he was recovering well but within a week it was noticed that his pancreas had got infected and there was internal bleeding and secondary infection. He was moved back to the ICU as he was under severe pain. We made some efforts to take the help of the government of Telangana to meet his medical expenses. But we did not ever expect all of this would end so soon, though all of us involved knew his body had taken on the imprints of a relentless persecution by the state and its legal system. He passed away on October 12 at 8:36 pm.
Saibaba’s death was not unexpected but it remains unacceptable. After Father Stan Swamy, this was a reminder of where we are headed. After the death of an 80-year old has come the death of a 90% disabled person. The intended chilling effort is not lost on anybody despite the unflinching spirit of resistance that Sai came to stand for. How could such a frail body pose such a threat to the body politic? Perhaps, the frail body was the reason behind the threat perception. Can we create a strong nation with such a weak state at the helm of affairs?
Ajay Gudavarthy is an associate professor at the Centre for Political Studies at JNU.