One of my earliest memories I can recall right now of Sitaram Yechury is when I was about 12 or 13 years old. I am not particularly proud of it. I was with my father who had already spent a couple of hours at A.K.G. Bhawan, head office of the Communist Party of India (Marxist) (CPI(M)) talking to his endless list of friends, and then when we came out, he was still talking to one of his friends, and Sitaram Yechury. I was stomping my feet on the stairs that lead to A.K.G. Bhawan like a toddler throwing a tantrum. My father has never cared for any tantrum whatsoever.
Sitaram shook hands with both of them and was leaving when he saw me sulking. He turned and said, “What happened beta?” I didn’t miss the chance to complain and said, “Papa is just not leaving. I am bored (please imagine me being as dramatic as you can).” He laughed and turned to my father and said, “Abrol sa’ab, someone is getting impatient.” My father laughed and waved his hand as if he was just coming. Sitaram and I knew it’s not happening. He laughed, patted my head and left.
The next very clear memory is of Sitaram coming to the Jawaharlal Nehru University (JNU) just before JNU student union elections, canvassing for the Student’s Federation of India (SFI) — the CPI(M)’s student wing, and he was speaking at my hostel mess after dinner time (Ganga hostel). I went to see him after his speech and he was very happy and proud to see me there. He asked me about my school, subject, and hostel. I replied, “Here, in Ganga hostel.” In his usual style, he laughed and said, “So we belong to the same hostel!” SFI leaders were waiting for him so I said bye.
Also read: How Sitaram Yechury Cautioned Against Modi Regime’s Insurrection Against the Constitution
I didn’t meet him for a few years after that, busy with my studies, and then job. When he became the general secretary of the CPI(M), I asked for an interview. People would think that he would have given me an appointment just because he knew my father but that didn’t happen. I kept trying for days. Then my source at the party office said, he usually leaves after 8 pm, come before that and catch him.
I parked myself around 7.30 pm, not willing to take any chance. It was production day for the People’s Democracy, the CPI (M)’s official newspaper. He was writing the edit piece. He came down from his room around 8.45 pm and I grabbed him. Reluctantly, he said, you have 20 minutes. I extracted 30 — and he laughed at my cunning at the end of the interview.
However, the most beautiful thing about the interview was, as I was asking him questions, I could see he was evaluating me as a journalist, if I was up to the job. He wasn’t the one to give away freebies only because you are known to him. It felt so good. He interacted with me as a professional and gave me that respect. I wonder if I have ever felt so gratified after any interview in all these 21 years in journalism. In our later interactions as a politician and a journalist, he would just drop some nugget of news in the most elliptical way, knowing I will pick it up and use it well.
He used to come home if he was attending any event in or around the town where my parents live. On occasions when I was home, he would interact completely differently. It used to be the same man who patted my head while I was throwing a tantrum. My mother always magically produces something to eat and he would always thank her and ask, “How do you do it?” (It’s not a patriarchal thing – my mother is addicted to cooking and all efforts to get her out of the kitchen have failed).
His ability to connect with people was just so natural and profound. Not many people know, he used to regularly go and have a meal with his mentor late Comrade Harkishan Singh Surjeet’s wife till she was alive. Either once a week, once a month — whenever his busy schedule would allow — he would go. He had this genuine gift of caring. Not just her, during my interview with late CPI(M) leader and former speaker of the parliament Somnath Chatterjee (which turned into one of his last interviews), Chatterjee told me that Sitaram came to his house after becoming the general secretary and very graciously invited him back to the party. According to the party rules, Chatterjee had to apologise to be back in the party, which he refused on the grounds that he hadn’t done anything wrong. Sitaram had no control over party rules, obviously.
As much as he cared about others, he was equally careless about his health. He was a chainsmoker. I have never seen him without a cigarette in his hands — within a minute of finishing one, the other one would appear. He didn’t care about food. In spite of being a Telugu, and Telugus know how culturally food loving community they are, he had absolutely no preferences or guilty pleasures. He would eat lunch at the party office canteen which starts serving at 1 pm and he wouldn’t land before 2 or 2.30 pm and just eat leftover cold food. During trips, he would eat anything, anywhere. Sadly, communists are not taught to take care of themselves.
While these did contribute to his health, people close to him agree that he did get hit very badly after his son died during Covid. According to one, he aged 10-15 years in just the past three years and started looking old. Losing a child can break the bravest. He probably didn’t recover from it.
His personal struggles aside, he hasn’t had it easy in the party and had to fight for the position of general secretary. It is no secret that once comrades, Prakash Karat and Sitaram had become two camps in the party. The part which is not widely known is that while Karat’s tenure was ending, he was propping someone else for the position of general secretary and Sitaram finally made it clear that if he is side stepped, he would go to the central committee and everyone knew that he had a better hold there. They had to resign from the campaign against him.
Also read: Sitaram Yechury Stayed the Course Through the Rise and Decline of His Party
Moreover, the Congress party was open to giving him a Rajya Sabha position. Yet again, the politburo didn’t agree. Astonishingly, in spite of all the bad blood between Sitaram and Karats, Brinda Karat went to the hospital every single day. She would reach in the morning and stay till late evening every day, while Sitaram’s wife, Seema Chishti, was dealing with visitors. It is a beautiful show of their old camaraderie, mutual respect, and friendship.
While he was indeed a wonderful person, this is a much bigger loss. A loss for the nation. Sitaram was truly a protege of Surjeet and knew the importance of coalition politics in the times we are living in. He learnt the importance of being friends with all non-communal forces. Secretly, I am told, even Mamata Banerjee. Nation before the party. He also knew the legitimacy of the name and support of CPI(M) to any party.
Just like Comrade Surjeet, he nurtured relationships with leaders of other parties. Rahul Gandhi, in particular, is said, consulted Sitaram regularly on many issues. Although the Narendra Modi government has diluted many progressive schemes launched during the time of the United Progressive Alliance (UPA) government, the CPI(M) — with intellectual inputs from leaders like Sitaram and many others — contributed a lot to schemes like MNREGA, Forest Rights Act (FRA), Right to Information, etc.
Losing Sitaram Yechury is indeed a loss to the party, with no clear leader to take over as yet, it is also a loss for the nation to lose someone who pushed for progressive reforms constantly. For his friends, they’ve lost him way too early.
In all my time as a journalist, I would call him sir, instead of uncle like I used to when I was younger. Goodbye, uncle.
Parul Abrol is an independent journalist based in Goa. Her father used to be associated with the CPI(M).
