This morning in Kolkata, I finally checked off the first—and most cherished—stop on my list: a visit to Dr. S.K. Ghosh.
For nearly two decades in Sevagram, he wasn’t just my next-door neighbor. He was a dear friend, a quiet philosopher, a family confidant, and a guide who brought warmth and wisdom into everyday life. We shared much more than a boundary wall—we shared laughter, conversations over garden fences, and a deep camaraderie.
At his Paikpara home today, time folded gently upon itself. For an hour, we drifted down the memory lane of Sevagram—the late night silences, the smell of neem trees in the breeze, and the quiet evenings broken by the songs of bulbuls and the bark of his beloved dogs: Lali and Kali. We remembered faces from the past, those who shaped us and still linger in our hearts.
We spoke of the early morning birdwatching jaunts, his fish tanks teeming with life, his love for gardening and music, and above all, his uncanny ability to connect with every student, every person he met.
Now in his early 80s, Ghosh-da leads a slower life. Tending his terrace garden, flipping through old photo albums, revisiting the past through books and memories.
But in his eyes, the old spark remains—the same gentle warmth that once lit up the corridors of the Anatomy department. And the voice that boomed in the dissection hall.
As I walked away, his eyes were wet. And so were mine.
To all MGIMS alumni who remember him: Ghosh-da still remembers you, fondly and vividly.
