He has never been too far from my mind since our meeting more than thirty years ago. A snippet of information in the newspaper, a chanced upon interview on Doordarshan or an article in a magazine was something that I absorbed with great interest.
I clearly remember the day I met him. Sayed Haider Raza, an artist of international acclaim and one of the founders of the Progressive Artists' Group that was formed soon after independence, was going to address a small gathering of artists, litterateurs and some such like minded people.
My mother, an accomplished artist and a poet, was invited to attend the meet and I decided to accompany her.
It was a bright February morning and we walked through the quiet bylane off Wardha road to reach the entrance of The Rawal International hotel. We took our seats and within minutes were captivated by the straight from the heart talk that told us about Raza's journey from his birthplace in Madhya Pradesh through his early education, to his life in Paris and his yearning for his motherland.
He spoke about his work, and the nuances and allusions that he made completely escaped me, as I wasn't an artist then nor am I one now. But what shone through was his humility and a certain gentleness that warmed our collective hearts.
His reference to the "Bindu" , a subject of several of his paintings that has almost become synonymous with his name, has a connection with his childhood. While he was in school his mind often wandered away from his books. So one of his teachers simply drew a dot on a wall and made him sit down and concentrate on it. From there grew his fondness for the Bindu
and the rest of course is history.
His yearly pilgrimage to India and to Nagpur in particular was to meet his teacher of long ago and to pay his respects. Incidentally, his teacher, Mr Athavle was my mother's teacher too.
She took her early lessons in painting from Mr Athavle, and I have a very vague memory of his small house with a yellow door that opened into the front room that always had a lingering smell of paints.
After a while the talk came to an end, and after a brief goodbye we left for home.
One thing that I can still recall about that morning is someone describing him as a *राजा माणूस* which obviously was an intended pun about his name - *रझा*. And it was so true.
Just a few days ago I happened to read an article about him in the newspaper which said that Raza would have celebrated his hundredth birthday on Tuesday the 22nd of February. It was then that I remembered that I had written an article about that meeting with the celebrated artist more than thirty years ago, in the Sunday magazine of The Hitavada, a Nagpur daily.
I was a fresh journalism graduate, young and impressionable. So a certain amount of naivete is bound to reflect through my words. But what I wrote then holds true even today as I post this tribute for an unusual artist Sayed Haider Raza.
Sharing my article in The Hitavada.
Rarely does one come across a person who captures not only one's heart but one's mind as well in a short span of time. He strikes a definite chord somewhere deep inside, thereby transforming a casual meeting into something that can be cherished forever. Sayed Haider Raza, a painter of international repute does just that and wins one over without a conscious effort to do so.
There are no visible signs that could possibly suggest his vocation. Not conforming to the generalised image of an artist, he does not sport a beard and dislikes untidiness in any form. No bohemian painter this.
One finds oneself looking at a casually attired man with intense brown eyes, a face that reflects an inner strength which becomes an almost tangible force when he begins to speak.
Born in a remote village in Madhya Pradesh, Raza, after having completed his early education in India was awarded a scholarship by the French government. He studied at the famous Ecole des Beaux Arts in Paris.
Married to Janine, a French artist, he has been living in Paris for the last thirty-seven years. But, says he, " I cannot forget India. I keep coming back to revitalise myself".
His feelings get more and more obvious as he reminisces about his childhood. He pauses suddenly mid-sentence wistfully reliving the past.
Looking rueful he says, "I wish I could stay here today, tomorrow and the day after".
As he goes on to talk about art which is his forte, one senses a kind of restlessness within him that wouldn't allow him to remain passive. A perfectionist himself Raza feels very strongly about mediocrity in art.
His recent paintings which centre round the theme of 'Panchatatva' reveal his search for the metaphysical aspect of life.
He claims that his work expresses all that he can't put into words.
Unpretentious as he is Raza has something to say to each and every one of his friends, fans and admirers and at the moment of parting I can only say Au Revoir Monsieur....
I remember asking him for his address which he readily wrote down on a piece of paper. My only regret is that I never did pursue the idea of writing to him. That, I'm sure, would have given me a treasure trove of beautiful memories.
Little did I know
When I met you long ago
You would linger
In my heart and mind
Like a fragrance
Of a flower
That stands out
In a bower
As it's truly
One of a kind.
