Remembering Professor P Rajani, one of the illustrious lights of MCC’s Dept of English

Dr V Rajagopalan

Dr P Rajani, retired Professor of English, Madras Christian College, passed away last Friday at 5.10 p.m. That he is no more with us reminds me of the words of Arthur Schopenhauer: “Every parting gives a foretaste of death…” As a mark of respect to the beloved departed soul, I’m attempting an obituary for him. Can I present the complete man? I’ll try.

Never did I feel myself incapable of writing as I do now. When a personality is larger than creative output could account for, it becomes a formidable task to attempt description. To say that Dr Rajani had an eventful academic career as Professor of English is to make an understatement of sorts.

Let me take you down the years, to 1968. We were a batch of second year literature students in MCC, awaiting the arrival of the new Professor to our class. And there came Professor Rajani, not very tall, not short either, fair, with a goatee and neatly cropped head. Behind the pair of spectacles gleamed powerful eyes that betokened benignity. He was to teach one of the immortal classics of Shakespeare’s, A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

“Sulochana,” he said, “you’ll be Helena,” and added, “since you’re always breathing the English air.” We were dumbstruck. Sulochana was the daughter of Professor Bennett Albert, our Head of the Department and later Principal of the college, sterner than any professor on campus. Because of Professor Albert we stood in awe of even Sulochana! And when a new professor could speak in such familiar terms, we knew we were in the midst of a man, where as Shakespeare says, you could “Season your admiration for a while.” Needless to say, his classes then – as well as later – were enjoyable and we were as happy as the Shakespearean characters that came alive. The whole campus knew his instinct for business. He could have taken himself to it as a duckling to water. But he did not do so. “The one exclusive sign of thorough knowledge is the power of teaching,” says Aristotle. And Rajani knew it better than others. Throughout his life he followed the cardinal principle that to be a good teacher you have to kindle young minds and not regurgitate, parrot like, what you learnt.

“Life is a casting-off,” a character in a Miller play says. Rajani merits this quote because he had a penchant for American literature. Hailing from one of the richest families in Coimbatore, he could have inherited a fortune and made another. He did neither. And as future stood opaque in his vision, he disinherited himself and made MCC the nominee in his nomination document. His only possession – “dukedom large enough” – was his books. Not many of us knew that numerous people had been beneficiaries of his largesse, and he never made a virtue of this quality.

“Our whole life is like a play,” Ben Jonson’s famous line bore ample testimony to Rajani’s academic life. Yes, theatre was his passion and he produced over 40 plays and shaped many actors, and in the process established his own canon in MCC, at the University of Madras (thanks to Dr CT Indra), and at the Central University, Thiruvarur. The MCC English department stands eternally grateful to him for it was he who strained every nerve for the physical rehabilitation of the department with meticulous forethought. He built the English association library at a time when getting a rupee was a formidable task. He founded and edited the literary journal, “English: A Research Journal,” which provided an avenue for self-expression for research-minded students and teachers alike. If Dr Nirmal Selvamony and Professor K Latha (who now teaches at Stella Maris) were able to hone their editing skills, it is due largely to Rajani’s innate ability to spot talent and nurture it.

The late professor was instrumental in introducing optional papers such as European Classics and Women’s Writing at the MA level. He did not stop just at introducing the courses. It was largely due to his indefatigable energy that Women’s Writing became popular in our college – the proof of the pudding was that he edited five books on Women’s Writing. During his illustrious academic career, he conducted six literary festivals whose tenor was both literary and cultural. He initiated the idea of inter department drama and poetry competitions that were very popular in our college. He successfully conducted several seminars and the one on “Curriculum Development” with reference to Women’s Writing deserves mention. He specialised in American Literature, European Drama and theatre production. The jewel in his academic crown came in the form of a remark made by the most taciturn Professor Bennett, who said: “Rajani does not just teach literature, but creates a love for it.” Rajani treasured this more than any other tangible possession.

If there was one man who showed an unremitting sense of personal responsibility it was Rajani. Be it the upkeep of the photocopier in the department, or producing a play, or editing the college magazine, his attitude was uncompromising. He always championed the cause of the students and took up cudgels on their behalf and waged many administrative battles. And on those occasions whatever vocabulary he created by way of acerbic criticism became haloed and the phrase “Rajanian” had come to stay. In those instances, he proved a point or two, particularly Heidegger’s view that language is gesture. He was never the management man but “papa” to many students and this explains why several students adored him.

He never liked to play the game of life with its subterfuges and ugly machinations. He lived a simple, natural and true life. He hated all kinds of façade which explained sometimes his irritability and he became naturally bad-tempered when he couldn’t suffer snobbery or vanity. This also explained why he never cared for dress elegance. In the days of haute couture, he managed all his life with minimum dress materials. He was not religious in the conventional sense of the term. With Paine he agreed that “my religion is to do good.”

There are no two ideas more inseparable than Rajani and charm. Envy, it is said, (unless you are a postmodern) is one of the deadliest sins. But the 30 years I was his colleague I suffered its influence unable to bear Rajani in the midst of ladies-in-waiting. We always wondered at his popularity with both sexes of students.

Someone said that this world is a great book of which those who never stir from home read only a page. This explains Rajani’s periodic wanderlust to the Himalayas. Besides, he strongly believed that a travelled mind educated itself out of egoism and exclusiveness.

He was a very good cricketeer, and a medium pacer at that, who would take wickets in inter collegiate staff cricket matches without attending any practice sessions. With his long beard he reminded us of WG Grace. He was also a good tennis player and I always enjoyed tennis practice sessions with him.

In his passing away there is a void. Several of his students and colleagues will be mourning his demise now and for several days. Some people whose dynamism is profound never let forgetfulness eat into our memories and Rajani was one of them. Professor Rajani was, as Simone de Beauvoir said, “a child blown up by age.” With him Time shall play no fool with our memories.

Dr V Rajagopalan is retired Professor and Head, Department of English, Madras Christian College, and Dean, SSKV College of Arts and Science for Women, Kanchipuram.