“His Openness To Change Made Him A Legend”: Kritiman Roy Pens Ode To Kamalendu Bhattacharjee

By Kritiman Roy

For most people in Silchar, Kamalendu Bhattacharjee was a respected educationist who later became a politician. But to me, he was much more – a grandfather-like figure, thanks to old family ties.

I still remember a family gathering he hosted where he asked me which class I was in. When I said “Class 8,” he smiled and told me to start attending his classes. At the time, I wasn’t thrilled. Tuitions meant less playtime. However, my mother, one of his former students, insisted that I attend, as I would gain a different perspective on English literature. That’s how my journey with ‘Unended Quest’ began.

KB Sir wasn’t like the typical English teachers in town. He wanted us to think, not memorise. He believed in learning for knowledge, not just marks. Guardians were welcome in his class because he felt learning should flow into the home as well. He explained grammar with such clarity that even the most hesitant students found the confidence to write. And he had a way of pointing out how even widely accepted phrases could be grammatically wrong. For instance, McDonald’s “I’m lovin’ it,” is incorrect, because ‘love’ is a stative verb and you can’t use its continuous form. He also used to quote Socrates and Shakespeare, stating that their statements, even if grammatically incorrect, are widely accepted by society because they’re stalwarts. This was one of his ways to encourage his disciples to strive for greatness.

He hated it when students skipped class for unit tests. And he really hated being asked for notes. “Note porle goat hoibay,” he’d say – one of his many memorable lines. His classes were more than just grammar lessons. They were filled with stories, insights, and an infectious love for learning. His personal library was vast. His curiosity, boundless.

He often addressed me by my nickname in front of 60 students, sharing stories of my grandfather and my mother’s student days. I’d squirm in embarrassment, but I could see the affection behind it. Before my board exams, he visited our home with prawns, just to lift my spirits. “Keep your language simple, SEBA exam isn’t the place to showcase your vocabulary,” was his advice.

Even as age and illness caught up with him, his mind stayed sharp. During my last visit in 2024, bedridden yet smiling, he recited a 12-verse poem from memory and asked, “Am I still good enough?” He always was.

KB Sir’s teaching career spanned multiple decades, but his openness to change has made him a legend. His idea of a crash course for Higher Secondary was a boon for students of the Science stream. He engineered a strong foundation for the success stories of many in Barak Valley, including mine.

Looking back, that 8th standard trade-off – a little less playtime, a lot more learning – was one of the best decisions of my life.

Thank you, Kamalendu Sir. Your words, your lessons, your warmth – they stay with us.

Your quest may have ended, but your teachings never will.

[The author is a student at IIM Sirmaur]