That was my first encounter with Arindam Sen, who had a tremendous dislike for students coming from posh, upmarket schools. Sen, as he was known among the Economics Honours students, used to teach us Mathematical Economics. His trademark was a cotton side bag, which hardly matched with the sophistication of the college, and would draw curves with their axes in thin air.
Sen, was hardly bothered if anyone attended his class or not and would circulate a sheet of paper for the students in the room to write down their roll numbers for attendance. Taking advantage of his two hour classes we would often slip into the noon or matinee shows at cinema halls in central Kolkata. Our friend Soumyananda Dinda, whom Sen liked for his humble background, low profile and sincerity, was entrusted with the responsibility of ensuring our requisite attendance as we enjoyed outside. Only once as a fellow student was trying to skip his class, Sen retorted that he was 'physically, mentally and intellectually more able than all of us". If someone ever tried to act smart, Sen's treatment would be to ask him questions ranging from Lord Tennyson's 'Ulysses' to what not.
From the looks, however, he seemed a very idealistic person. Mostly sporting a set of crumpled Punjabi-Pajama (Kurta-Pyjama), he would often push his dense hair from over his broad forehead while delving with the mathematical expression of complicated economic theories, without any concern as to whether they made any sense to a majority of the students in the class.
Often the very moment becomes more important than what was fundamental, and it was so true with Sen. Rather than trying to relate to what he was trying to explain, we would either bunk his classes or would scribble on paper, pretending as if we were listening to his lectures with apt attention.
From disinterest grew indifference and gradually Sen turned out to be an enigma for many of us. It was so intense that a joke was doing the rounds when we were in college and it related Sen with the celebrated economist Paul Samuleson. The joke went like this: once Samuelson landed at the Kolkata Airport and someone present to receive him whispered in his ear that Arindam Sen taught Economics in a city college. Hearing Sen's name, Samuelson got so puzzled, fearing that Sen's mathematical analysis of Economics would be totally incomprehensible to him, that he took the next flight to the United States.
This may just have been a joke but the enigma surrounding Sen continued within me even after I left college. So when I heard from the famous Bengali singer Srikanto Acharya (who incidentally is a Xaverian but from the Political Science Department) a couple of months ago that Sen passed away, the first thing that crossed my mind was the enigma that surrounded him. Despite not relating to his lectures, I always wondered what his position would have been on some of the complex issues relating to economic theory or if he had some published work, which would give us some idea about his thinking on controversial topics.
One thing is for sure, he was a very determined person and I have a personal story to complement that. I used to take private tuition in Mathematics from Dr Shankar Prasad Bhattacharya, who used to live on the same road as Sen at Sinthee in north Kolkata. When Sen was adapting himself to the mathematical treatment of Economics, he would often seek help from Dr Bhattacharya. In Dr Bhattacharya's own words, Sen wouldn't bother about the time of the day, be it morning or evening, and would rush to him (Dr Bhattacharya) whenever he was faced with any mathematical problem. Dr Bhattacharya himself told me that it was very unusual for a man of Sen's stature and age and only speaks of his determination and dedication for the subject.
Sen still remains an enigmatic person for me and I would like to untangle the intellectual puzzle in him by searching for his works which would give me some idea about his original thinking.
Tirthankar Bandyopadhyay is a journalist and media consultant.
He can be contacted at tirthankarb@hotmail.com
He can be contacted at tirthankarb@hotmail.com
Tirtha,
ReplyDeleteYou just remind me few of my encounters with Sen, who was elder brother of Anamitra da, my ABP colleague. I remember Sen's sensational dress code, which singled out him in the college. I also remember his good words when in a class, with trembling legs, I rightly pronounced the answer of one of his tricky questions. Thanks for bringing up those good old memories.
Debasish
Apurbo.. mon galo bhorey.. erai holen Guru... shikhak to kagojey bigyapon dilei paoa jai.. kintu formaesh mato Guru to toiri hon na ba paoa jai na..
ReplyDeleteArindam Sen is one of the very few personalities I still think about off and on from my days in St. Xavier's College way back in 1976 when I studied Economics there. Back then I don't recall him wearing kurta-pyjamas. It was always shirt and trousers. And a very distinctive perfume. Or was it after shave lotion? It was obvious that he was brilliant and very different than the run-of-the-mill professors. I think he felt that I had potential. But I never lived up to that expectation.Has he really passed away? Makes me sad and wistful.
ReplyDeleteArindam Sen, my father, passed away in 2001.
ReplyDeleteAs a son, I had three different phases in my relationship to him. A young kid more interested in reading storybooks than in studying, I was always a bit apprehensive of his anger as I went around getting my multiplication tables wrong. Arindam Sen in his youth was fabulous student. So, all his childhood friends and acquaintances would tell me how I would never rise to the same 'heights'.
At some point I got a bit interested in science, which drifted towards Physics. I was equipped with with eight grade Algebra and Geometry. He then did something remarkable: he sat down with me for 4-5 days and explained much of high school Mathematics, all they way from Binomial Theorem to Integral Calculus. He said he developed this condensed course (Vishnu Sharma's lessons, in his own words) trying to teach Economics student the Math necessary to follow modern texts, since in the early days of his teaching it was not obligatory for Economics students to have done much Math.
The 'course' was a success with me. I was converted. He was the 'genius' I would look up to for many years to come. He was clearly hungry for an eager student. He would talk to me about a wide range of things: his discussions would happily run from Optimization Methods in Operations research to Albert Camus' writings on Existentialist Philosophy. Things he felt his colleagues knew better, he would not have much hesitation in getting me to go bug them.
When I went away from Kolkata to do research, I had entered a third phase. I would, from time to time see things differently from him. As I get older, I wonder more often what it was like to be him. I sense some hidden frustrations in him, a partially failed search for intellectual satisfaction in an undergraduate college, and also sense of achievement, of having motivated a (very) small number of students to look beyond minimal course work.
..............
I meant 2002, not 2001.
Delete.......
ReplyDeleteAs a student, I have often seen teachers at undergraduate institutions who, given their ability, would not consider such a career option in present day and time. At Presidency College Physics, I was fortunate to have a few of these teachers. Baba had started a research project at some point Indian Statistical Institute, but the project was pulled off before his research work finished. A combination of family circumstances combined with his fierce ideological stance may have been the reason why he did not pursue another shot at research. Instead he wrote articles about social/political issues in journals of a certain political orientation.
He was going to relatively isolated, politically. He disliked the Communist party immensely. His friends belonged to the Socialist party, which was practically non-existent in West Bengal. He did get politically active during the 'Emergency', writing and distributing leaflets. Post-1977, though the political scene became more and more disheartening for him.
From what I can see, he produced two kinds of reaction among students. Most turned away, ranging from the hostile to the bemused. My father had a great deal of comfort with hostility, which he was not beyond returning in kind. Then there was a small number who absolutely adored him: the 'Sen can do no wrong' club.
Much as the Kurta-Pajama + Gandhian Socialism+ inscrutable math defined him in the eighties for many, he was not always that way. He dressed well in the sixties and seventies; was pretty interested in sports. He loved playing cricket and soccer and looked forward to the Student-Teacher matches. As his polio stricken leg got worse, he needed a runner while batting. Still, his enthusiasm for those games was not reduced. His persona evolved as my mother struggled with cancer, succumbing to it in the early eighties.
I sense in the few sketches above the intensity that was his hallmark. Things he loved, he loved dearly. Things he disliked, well, most of you have good idea what it was like. It must have been difficult to be on his wrong side as a student.
I, for most part, was on the fortunate side.
Some of the prophetic remarks made by Prof Sen that come to my mind immediately: 'seeing is believing but believing is not understanding and understanding is much better than believing.' Even while teaching mathematical treatment of economics he never used black board, not even while presenting some graphical presentation of economic theory. because his firm conviction was that the moment one sees something he tends to believe this and never tries to understand that. Tirtha, I'm sure you would remember how he taught us--from demand, supply curve to everything by rotation and bending of various parts of his body!!
ReplyDeleteHis other conviction was that those who read a particular lesson many times only to memorise and reproduce it on the exam paper, actually copy from the memory. And it always makes more sense to copy straight from the book or printed papers than from the memory!!!......a contrarian view for sure, but then that's how he was.
If he liked Dinda (soumyananda himself would like to pronounce it as dindiya, atleast whenever he is face to face with prof suman mukherjee!!) for his humble background, he equally disliked Rajib--more than anything, for his huge physique!! poor rajib used to incur his wrath for being so hugely built. as you rightly mentioned prof sen would never allow anyone to be mentally, intellectually and PHYSICALLY stronger than him in his class!!.....a childlike simplicity, for sure.
There are so many anecdotes, incidents just free flowing into my mind. Thanks indeed Tirtha for letting us go back to those good old days.
Ritwik
All this is rather moving! Though I tend to avoid blogging/commenting, PROF ARINDAM SEN is such a special person in my life that I can't resist chipping in with my hepenny worth! Ancient as I am, I studied statistics under him in 1964 -- and both his personality and teaching method hooked me forever for their bold crystal-clarity. Personality : (in those days) he only wore trousers and tucked-in white shirt with sleeves rolled-up -- showing (or showing off?) his strong forearms. We didn't know of his Polio, but rumour had it that he had been an ex boxer and street fighter and thus got his leg injured (somehow!). So pupils made sure not to cross him; and possibly to avoid him. But for some reason he made himself very accessible/likeable to a few of us who also revered/admired him. Teaching method : as most econ hons students in those days didn't have the requisite maths background, and maths wasn't even offered as a subject to them, he started his own maths foundation course in a capsule right from the basics. And its impact was/is lifelong; coz even now I haven't forgotten the fundamentals. I recall giving my maths/stats notebook to a senior student who was struggling at his MA econ class. It'd be the best maths for stats text book ever. But amusingly, I only realised he ALSO knew econ when he strongly recommended me to (transfer to) another college where maths and mathematical econ were offered. And that changed my life by opening up the whole of econ literature to me.
ReplyDeleteI was his student for just one year.Then I left Eco Hons. and sat for JEE.One day in the class he asked a girl..."I see you are from a posh school. Tell me what is a right angle." She said right angle is 90 degrees.He said.." Is it? Then tell me what is a degree." When she fumbled, Prof.Sen said .." I know you want to tell me that a degree is 1/90th of a right angle.You see this is what we call feminine fallacy. You are trying to define one with the help of another. Why, don't u know if two st.lines intersect each other in such a way that both the adjacent angles are equal...." He explained the classical definition and then told us.."Now that you have come here try to unlearn whatever you had learnt in your big schools."
ReplyDeleteHe was a tremendous personality.I would like to ask Anirvan why he did not rise to the level of Amartya Sen and likes? He was no less talented.
Somenath Sengupta
Somenath, I have wondered about that myself. From what I understand, he felt the need to support his extended family right after his masters and got a college professor job. In addition, he went to do BA from Scottish Church College, the neighborhood institution he loved, rather than to Presidency College. Sometimes, your peer group ends up influencing what you see as possible. Also, see my comments from 23rd March 2012.
DeleteSometimes his Calcutta University professors would send him information about more technically oriented graduate programs (say in Operations Research) looking for students. By that time, he had his own family. He could not afford leaving a college faculty job and survive on student stipend.
Your story reminds me of his insistence on questioning what the system ‘teaches’ you. I wish he did not attach ‘feminine’ to circular reasoning, but he was from another generation. Fortunately, he was a bit inconsistent in his likes and dislikes. I do remember a female student, from a similar ‘posh’ background, who had impressed him in class. At home, he could not stop singing her praises.
I do miss him. Today would have been his 86th birthday.