THE YAMUNA GENTLY WEEPS TONIGHT

MANOJ KUMAR MISRA: 1954-2023

- Saurabh Popli

Quiet and reserved, few could claim to know Manoj Kumar Misra well, for beyond his soft eyes and easy demeanor he was often inscrutable. Those to whom he revealed his vast knowledge, insight, and purpose can consider themselves fortunate, for he was a most unusual man. Mistaken for being laconic, he was just careful and deeply perceptive.

Neither the cancer ravaging his body, nor the discomfort that was apparent after his surgery fazed him much. His only complaint was that for a short while, he was unable to post a new flower, or leaf for identification to his closest, inner circle, a loyal if eclectic band of devoted friends who followed his tweets every morning; and the brief conversations that ensued from his routine morning walk to the old University campus near his home, were lively and interesting.

For me, however, his condition meant that I made a detour to pick him up from his house regularly, and our onward journeys became the opportunity for long, and unhurried conversations. I learned much, and some of it was quite entertaining like when he was a guest of Gerald Durrell on his island ark called the Jersey Zoo. On other occasions, the discussions were prosaic – on pragmatic or policy matters – and conversations usually drifted around his lifelong quest for securing north India’s rivers from systematic abuse and myriad depredations.