By Vidya Shenoy | Opening Doorz Editorial | February 29, 2024
“Sorry, I’m in a rush to reach office, will talk later…” was his last message to me on the 28th morning. He collapsed whilst at work the same afternoon…
Remembering Satish Nandgaonkar
It’s strange these days, when we are introduced to new people, how we take time to know them, get acquainted, become friends, nurture the relationship to grow stronger, and then become close friends! Some don’t even get to the ‘close friendship’ stage.
When we were in our teens, friendships just happened… freely. It didn’t seem so formal you know. Yes, we got to know one another better with time but we never witnessed any awkward formalities. We got to know each other and then each other’s family and friends, and friends of friends… it was simple. Perhaps that’s why my friendship with Satish Nandgaonkar lasted the test of time… for decades.
Satish Nandgaonkar was originally my sister’s friend, but like I said, there was an instant connection. Veena’s kid sister Vedu, that’s how he knew me. Sheetal Paknikar, the boy, and Satya, that’s how I knew them. We were introduced and were friends instantly. Our Appa, Amma and Amuma were Appa, Amma and Amuma to all. Their cousins and siblings were our cousins and siblings too.
Sheetu and Satya coexisted for me (and a few of us) all through those Bombay Times days. We did have our connections and indulged in different activities when together. Sometimes, we would joke—with one Satya, one Sheetu comes free. The togetherness was unique and special.
Satish Nandgaonkar and our Garibon ka Taj
One of my favorite memories of Satish Nandgaonkar is our evening chit-chat in Apna Garibon ka Taj, bang outside V T Station, an Iranian coffee shop at the corner, which is now converted to McDonald’s. And I’m not lovin’ it anymore! It was a mini press club every evening. All journalists from various publications met and shared stories, photos, discussions, arguments, etc.
Satish Nandgaonkar was a crime reporter in those days. What won my attention was the beautiful bond with a young street kid he shared. They would converse, play silly games (find the finger was Satish Nandgaonkar’s favorite). He always tricked the kids with this. Later, he always had a treat for them. He cared for them. There were a group of street kids but this one had a sweet bonding with Satish Nandgaonkar.
Satya was by far the most grounded and down-to-earth person I may ever meet. His kindness and helpful mind touched many hearts. ‘The male ego’ seemed absent in him. I am not sure how everybody understood him, but I know he understood everyone. His only irritation was the fate of fake journalism that exists these days. Be it complaints, anger, requests, needs, help, requirements, or anything… he did his part.
He couldn’t satisfy all for sure, but he understood where they were coming from. He never misunderstood anyone. Respected every individual for what they were and simply ignored what they should have been! For a guy who uncovered so many stories daily, he remained a quiet personality… his silence spoke.
I am not too much into reading unless I am suggested a book by someone dear. My first ever read (Jonathan Livingston Seagull’s), then, The Bridges of Madison County, was all thanks to him.
Till We Meet again, Satya…
A dear friend, Manji, once told me, that when we lose someone, a part of us dies with them but a part of them lives with us. My sister continues to live with us through our friendships. Her biggest gift to me was her friends whom she left behind for me and who simply stayed with me, unconditionally! We didn’t have to meet to connect or talk to feel connected. It always existed and will continue to exist.
Satish looked as perfect as Robert Kinyard to me more than Clint Eastwood. You will live with us Satya, by the fragrance of mogra, while humming a song, hearing the radio, watching a movie, hearing Kishori Amonkar, reading a book, sharing a moment, in our morning walks, having dosa and ghar ka sambar (with bhindi), watching a match, hearing some political rubbish, good news or bad news, in more than one way… we will continue to connect.
“Sorry, I’m in a rush to reach office, will talk later…” was his last message to me on the 28th morning. He collapsed whilst at work the same afternoon…
This story is unfinished, till we meet again… Satya!
“Mushkil hain jeena, umeed ke bina… thode se sapney saja ke….thoda so roomani ho jaaye…”
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