Dr Bikash Chandra Bhattacharya, MD!!!
Biswanath Bhattacharya
May 17, 2025
Dr. Bikas—our eldest cousin, lovingly called Barda—was born on January 27, 1942, in Chhatian, a part of Habigang Subdivision, now a district. As a boy, he boasted striking physical features, with a fair complexion that evoked comparisons to a British lad. His early years, up to the age of seven or eight, were spent in a village near Miang Imphal, where my eldest uncle, Bara Jethamosay, served as the headmaster of a local school. Barda's mother was Gouri Devi, affectionately known to us as Bara Jyetima. He shared his family with a brother, Sribas (fondly called Mejda by us), and two sisters, Sheela (later known as Nibedita) and Anita. Tragically, Barda lost his younger brother, Bibhash, during his childhood.
My Bara Jethamosay was a deeply philosophical man, untouched by the material world. His demeanor mirrored that of a saint—detached from the trifling matters of this earthly existence. Like the God of creation, the artist who remains within, behind, beyond, or above their masterpiece, my Bara Jethamosay existed as a figure of refined invisibility. Indifferent to worldly pursuits, he seemed to be paring his fingernails while living recklessly, indulging in the luxuries life offered. Unbeknownst to him, he suffered from high blood pressure, a silent shadow that eventually led him to his untimely end. Without warning, he departed, taken away by God from what he often referred to as this cruel and selfish world. The world, as we know it, is indeed cold, dark, and unforgiving—a sentiment he seemed to embody in his silence.
During the time of his passing, my father was living in a village called Wabagai in Manipur. It was a period of great uncertainty, and the family decided that remaining in Manipur would serve no purpose. Together, they embarked on a journey to Chhatian, our ancestral town in East Pakistan, seeking a new beginning amidst the trials of displacement.
My youngest uncle, lovingly called Chhotu Kaka, was employed in the Postal Department in Agartala. Foreseeing a brighter future for the family, Chhotu Kaka resolved to bring my Bara Jyetima and all their siblings to Agartala. His vision was for them to receive better education and opportunities, a beacon of hope in a time otherwise steeped in grief and transition.
Thus, the story of my Bara Jethamosay’s legacy intertwines with the resilience of our family, forever shaping the paths we dared to tread in pursuit of solace, growth, and a semblance of light in a world so often shrouded in darkness.
Barda and Mejda were the cherished sons of the family, pampered and adored by everyone, especially my grandmother. They were, in every sense, the apple of her eye. "Keep me as the apple of the eye; hide me under the shadow of thy wings," as the famous saying goes. All the finest mangoes were lovingly handpicked for them and sent to Agartala. And when they traveled from Agartala to Chhatian, the true celebrations began. The household brimmed with joy, as the best items from the local market were carefully selected to honor their arrival.
To my father and grandmother, Barda held special names—he was "Baro Kabbu" and "Kanu," respectively—while Mejda was affectionately called "Chhoto Kabbu" and "Gunu." These names reflected the deep connection and warmth they shared within the family.
The most precious things in life are not tied to wealth; they are woven into memories and moments that linger in our hearts forever. Indeed, the more we appreciate and celebrate life, the more it gifts us reasons to rejoice. As the saying goes, it is better to lead from behind, allowing others to shine in moments of victory and happiness. Such is the essence of true celebration—letting the joy of others light up our lives.
Perhaps no one embodied this spirit more than my youngest, Chhto Kaka. His love for Barda and Mejda was immeasurable, so profound that it seemed greater than his own heart’s capacity. Through his affection and devotion to both of them, he showed that the beauty of life's relationships lies in cherishing the bonds we share and celebrating them with unbridled sincerity.
Both Barda and Mejda were truly remarkable, their brilliance unrivaled by anyone. Passion propels you to the foothills of ambition; talent elevates you to the summit; brilliance transcends earthly bounds, taking you to the heavens; and genius launches you to the stars. A beautiful mind eclipses the essence of a deceitful soul. Don’t merely observe the shine—experience it deeply. My Barda was not just a star; he was the very fabric of dreams realized, his ambitions casting shadows that danced in the light of realization.
Barda's journey began with his exceptional academic prowess. He passed the Matriculation Examination from Prachya Bharati High School with distinction, earning star marks that glittered as a beacon of his promise. His headmaster, Dhrubadas Bhattacharya, himself a prodigy, undoubtedly recognized the latent potential in this extraordinary student. Following this triumph, Barda embarked on another impressive chapter, joining the I.S.C program at the local MBB College. True to his brilliance, he once again shattered records, achieving marks that set a new benchmark.
At this time, Bara Jyetima, another prodigy in the family, was transferred to Khairpur High School. Her own story was a testament to resilience and determination. Married before even completing her Matriculation, she pushed boundaries by not only pursuing her education but excelling in her Masters. Her unwavering belief was that Barda would grow to become a doctor while Mejda would excel as an Engineer. Her conviction was not misplaced, as Barda, with his unparalleled intellect and dedication, secured admission in the prestigious Calcutta Medical College for MBBS. His brilliance continued to shine, as he graduated with record-breaking marks and a coveted Gold Medal. His achievements extended beyond academics; he stood first in the All-India Debate Competition, demonstrating his versatility and eloquence.
Although a doctor by profession, Barda’s heart was intertwined with literature. Russian literature, with its profound depth and emotional resonance, captivated him. From Tolstoy’s heavy yet enthralling classics like War and Peace to Dostoevsky’s poignant narratives, Barda immersed himself in the boundless sea of Russian literary greatness. Dostoevsky, one of the literary titans, penned masterpieces that resonated deeply with readers across the globe. Among them, White Nights stood out as an accessible gateway into the world of Russian literature. This novella, set against the melancholic streets of 19th-century St. Petersburg, unfolds the tale of two sleepless souls whose nightly encounters are marked by alienation and unreciprocated love. It was in such heavy and bittersweet narratives that Barda’s intellect and empathy found their solace.
Barda’s brilliance was more than a mere achievement—it was a legacy, a shining reminder of what passion, ambition, and dedication can achieve when pursued without compromise. He was not just a star; he was the embodiment of dreams rendered into reality.
After joining the Government service, my Barda was transferred to Kailashahar in the North Tripura District. During my tenure there, I held a variety of positions, including Subdivisional Magistrate, District Treasury Officer, Superintendent of Excise, Land Acquisition Collector, District Registrar of Cooperative Societies, and ultimately Assistant District Magistrate and Collector of North Tripura.
Despite wearing so many hats in public service, I was often recognized more for a personal connection than my professional roles. Everyone knew me as the brother of Dr. Bikash Bhattacharya, a name that carried such fame and legacy. Truly, he was a legend, an individual whose renown seemed to overshadow everything else, including my own contributions.
After his tenure in Kailashahar, Barda was transferred to Agartala, where he married Amiya Prava, affectionately called Boudi, in 1968. Amiya Prava was a rare beauty—her lustrous hair, radiant complexion, and mesmerizing black, widespread eyes made her unforgettable. Her eyes seemed to hold the reflection of a full moon, silent yet profoundly expressive. In their depths lay a world unexplored, a silence that spoke louder than words.
Following his transfer, Barda pursued his MD in Gynaecology and became the city's foremost gynaecologist. His brilliance shone during his verbal MD examination, where the professors repeatedly challenged his assertions and reasoning. Despite their doubts, Barda vindicated his stance time and again, referencing numerous authoritative texts and standing firmly by his knowledge. His unmatched expertise earned him esteem and respect across the medical community.
In the heart of Agartala, Barda constructed a home that became a haven for his family. It was here that his two daughters, Keya and Mou, were born. Keya now resides in Kolkata and remains a guardian angel to her father, while Mou has established her life in Canada.
Despite his accomplishments and familial ties, Barda remained detached from worldly pursuits, a trait reminiscent of his father, Bara Jethamosay. Eventually, he sold his house for what many considered a meager sum and joined the medical wing of the Ramakrishna Mission. There, he crossed paths with Mamata Banerjee, who was an unknown figure at the time. Her determination left a lasting impression; she would often bring patients from the slums to the mission and wait tirelessly on the stairs until Barda had attended to them. Though she may have forgotten these moments, her tenacity and spirit were undeniable.
Barda, however, maintained his apolitical stance, focusing solely on his purpose and service. His life was one of profound dedication, leaving a legacy defined by compassion, brilliance, and a commitment to higher ideals.
My beloved Barda, who had battled valiantly against an unrelenting, seemingly incurable illness, reached the end of his journey on the sombre night of May 11th, 2025. A warrior in spirit and resilience, he fought with unwavering courage, defying the odds until his strength gave way to the inevitability of fate.
His passing is an immeasurable void—not just for us, his family, but for every soul fortunate enough to cross his path. Barda's presence was a gift, his essence a beacon of kindness and fortitude. Those who knew him carry the weight of this loss, for his life touched countless hearts in ways words can scarcely convey. An irreplaceable light has dimmed, leaving behind cherished memories and an enduring legacy of love and strength.
(Tripurainfo)
more articles...