Remembering Inder Malhotra: A guru and friend

Growing up as a newspaper addict, I would read Inder Malhotra's political commentary: factual and robust, the style wasn't great but it always had substance.

When I joined Times of India in 1988, RK Laxman introduced us: Inder had left TOI by then but had come to Mumbai to meet Laxman.

Laxman, the ultimate story teller, shares a story of how Inder and the veteran editor of TOI Sham Lal were in a taxi once when a fire broke out in Flora Fountain (now Hutatma Chowk): Malhotra, a reporter first and last, wanted to stop the car and take notes from the field.

Sham Lal, an old style editor who was rarely seen and stayed away even from a byline, simply buried his head in a book. Yes, Inder as a newspaper article said today, was a 24x7 journalist before the breaking news era crept upon us.

When I came to Delhi, I had the good fortune of befriending him. As a political junkie, I would delight in listening to his many stories on Nehru, Indira, Jagjivan Ram, Shastri and many others.

We would meet at the IIC for coffee. He would often comment on a column I had written. When I moved to TV, he once asked me: arre, you are the most promising political writer of your generation, why are you wasting yourself in TV.

I took that as a high compliment and just smiled weakly. In 2009, I got him to be part of our 2009 election panel at CNN IBN. I just wanted him to share his historical anecdotes from past elections which he so memorably did.

His kindness of spirit, his hearty Punjabi laughter, and his unfailing enthusiasm: he was a short man with a large warm heart. When I wrote my book on the 2014 elections, I went and presented him a copy.

"Young man, I am proud of you!", he said with typical good cheer. We last met a few months ago for coffee at the IIC. His health was failing but not his nose for news. He wanted to know how the Modi government was doing, I wanted one last Indira story out of him.

Till the very end, he was the field reporter who became an editor, someone who has chronicled every post independence Indian prime minister and probably knew most of them by first name.

Maybe because he had a reporter's zest for being in the thick of the action, he was also less pompous than many of his contemporaries. Thank you sir for your kindness and generosity. And for the endless cups of coffee! RIP.

(The post first appeared on the writer's Facebook wall.)