“I was employed with The Telegraph since the age of 10.”
That was Sankarshan Thakur, who lived and died a scribe and had journalism coursing through his veins.
Someone like me - a first-generation journalist - could probably never understand his love and fascination for this noble profession. His father Janardan Thakur was a well-known journalist too and had written many books, including ‘All The Janta Men,’ and was working with Hindustan Standard then, an Anand Bazar Patrika Publication. This was before The Telegraph was even born.
In those pre-communication-revolution days when information flow was not instant, the teleprinter was the machine through which news used to reach the newspaper’s office. A young Sankarshan, at age 10, would to go to his father’s office and play with the teleprinter. He used to be fascinated by that machine. He would fetch news from the teleprinter and run towards his father with it.
I can’t claim that he was my friend, per se, or that I knew him intimately. We knew each other well and were aware of each other’s writings and political positions. He was aware of my temporary association with the Aam Aadmi Party (AAP) after more than a two-decade-long journalistic career, and at times we did chat on the phone whenever he wanted to know something about the politics of the AAP. But in that capacity, I knew him to be a fierce journalist unlike any other.