Is like taking a ritual dip
In a dry riverbed.
– Nirmala Garg, Duniyadar
It was a sunny December morning in 2002 in Bangalore, and Professor Daya Krishna was speaking to an eclectic audience of rocket scientists, zoologists, biologists, poets, philosophers, writers, thinkers and mathematicians in the auditorium of the National Institute of Advance Studies. The seminar he was addressing had an ambitious theme, "Knowledge and East-West Transitions". But Daya Krishna had barely finished his introductions when the figure in the chair waved his hand, "Five minutes!" The speaker continued only after explaining to the chair, and the audience, that deliberations about knowledge take more time than discussions about the weather.
The meeting broke for lunch, and the participants rushed towards the dining hall. Daya Krishna was left behind. Recuperating from an illness, he began walking slowly towards the other building. A budding Southasian columnist slowed his pace, and tried to engage the man with questions about the definition of knowledge in the age of information technology. The two would have forgotten about the food had a volunteer not interrupted their conversation to say that the lunch break was almost over. "Bhukhe bhajan na hohi gopala", the scholar quipped. "Devotional songs can't be sung with a hungry stomach!" Then he headed for a quick meal in the company of one who had been a complete stranger to him until a few hours before.
There is no record of what Daya Krishna spoke about to that audience of one. But that was the greatness of the man: he was more of a thinker than a teacher, preacher or philosopher, and a crowd is not necessary to trigger thought. Almost anything can spur a sage to reflect over questions of life, living and death. Perhaps that is the reason Daya Krishna did not found a school, had no following outside academia, and seldom appeared in the mainstream media – and yet, had more impact on contemporary thinking about thought than any other Indian philosopher of the modern era. He edited the Journal of the Indian Council of Philosophical Research for more than three decades, but was more of a facilitator of the exchange of ideas than a master of a quixotic discipline. Emblematically, when he breathed his last in Jaipur, in October at the age of 84, he was surrounded by his students.