Gaurav Kudtarkar,
B.Com (Hons.), 2006-2009

Rene Descartes, the seventeenth century mathematician-philosopher, asks the readers of his Sixth Meditation to think of a thousand-sided figure – a chiliagon – in order to bring out the difference between understanding and imagining. His point is that although we can understand the concept of a chiliagon, we cannot mentally visualize it as we imagine a triangle. Something analogous is true of Ruchir sir. Ruchir sir was a man whose personality had a thousand facets. It is impossible to capture in imagination his entire personality, yet it is quite simple to understand him. His life had the sole purpose of reflecting and spreading Bhagawan’s message and love to anyone who had the good fortune of knowing him, especially his students.

He was Bhagawan’s crown jewel who, no matter which facet of him one encountered, brilliantly embodied and communicated Bhagawan’s message in its shining radiance. Since it is impossible to capture his entire personality, I would like to bring to relief just one facet.

I was fortunate to know Ruchir sir not only as his student in college, but also as a student-volunteer between 2006 and 2009 in the Brindavan cooperative stores, which Ruchir sir used to manage. Ruchir sir always made sure that the student-volunteers felt at home in the stores. He wanted us to feel that we were working not for the hostel stores, but for our stores.
In my case this sentiment truly hit home on a Sunday in 2007. As a usual practice, on Sundays the cooperative stores used to be open for a few hours for devotees from outside the campus who came for the morning Bhajans in the Sai Ramesh Hall. Sundays also saw many parents come and visit their children studying in the campus. One Sunday, my parents had come to visit me, and so I took leave from stores duty to spend time with them. After some time had elapsed, my parents told me that they needed to purchase some items from the stores. I looked at my watch and realized that it was past the store’s timings. I became a little uneasy. I knew that Ruchir sir was a strict disciplinarian, and I wasn’t sure if he would be okay with my parents purchasing items after the stores had closed.

Nonetheless, mustering some courage, I went to sir and asked him if my parents could purchase from the stores, apologetically explaining to him that they had arrived a little late and we had lost track of time. I was half-expecting sir to reject my request, but sir, with eyes welling up with tears, replied, “Of course! You don’t need to ask me. This is your stores”. Later, on reminiscing about the incident, I realized two things. First was Ruchir sir’s emphatic message that I should take ownership (in terms of duty and responsibility) of the stores and feel at home in it. And this is a message that Ruchir sir’s life and actions conveyed in general: that we should take ownership of any project that we may be involved in. That was the reason why Ruchir sir was such a perfectionist; anything he touched became gold. The second thing I realized was that I had disappointed him by behaving as an outsider to the stores community. I realized how much it meant to him that I felt at home and comfortable. More importantly, this concern of his applied to all hostel students. His door was always open for students seeking help or counsel, and he endeavoured in every way possible to make students feel that the hostel was indeed our home away from home.