The Winds of Wonder

Roger Anger  and  Myself (Prithwindra Mukherjee)

[“A page of my reminiscences. This was the day when, in 1966, I reached Paris.” This is what Dr Prithwindra Mukherjee writes to me forwarding his note about the great and inspired-intuitive architect Roger Anger, the Mother’s Architect. RYD]

In the 1950s, André Morisset had the habit of introducing me to the members of his august family. That was how I came to know his younger daughter Françoise, on visit with her handsome husband, Roger Anger, a promising architect. I still remember vividly the couple – personifying beauty and health of a calculated life –  performing before the Mother figures of calisthenics on a few structural beams. I still remember his humorous repertoires and his anger.

Also I remember the face of my young friend Sylvain, freshly graduating from the Paris school of Architecture (Alma Mater of Roger) when he was informed that I knew Roger – his God incarnate – he requested: “Can you not ask him whether he accepts me to work for him in his team of young architects to create Auroville?” Jovial, an immediate reply came from Roger: “Of course, there is plenty of chance for friends that you recommend!” I hesitated and added: “But he is married, father of two little boys —“ Roger interrupted me: “That matters little! There are blokes even with half a dozen of kids; they solve their problems before coming to Pondy!”

Nonetheless amazed than Sylvain by this apparently indifferent attitude, we dropped the idea, even before learning that at times, Roger had been drawing from his pocket money to feed his assistants for the Auroville project. I have witnessed personally the earnest care of Mario Heymann, manager of their Head Office in Paris at rue Brémontier. Invited by Roger for a number of months, every evening after the office hours, in Paris or on Sunday mornings at his manoir at Temericour I spoke on Sri Aurobindo’s poetry with my translation in French from  poems originally written in English. In order to help me in a state of living without any job since 1970 (when I had defended successfully my first thesis at the Old Sorbonne university, putting an end to my scholarship from the French Ministry of Education). Out of solidarity, so that I could obtain my work-permit, Roger had proposed a  contract with the Ministry of Labour declaring me to be a paid translator from French to a few Indian languages and vice versa for Auroville under construction.  Of course, it was a ‘White Wedding’ (I had to reimburse the ‘salary’ to the cashier of the Cabinet).

Invited by the Hebrew University of Jerusalem and Bar Ilan of Ramat Gan (where there is an active French department)  for a talk on Savitri, as a homage to Sri Aurobindo on the centenary of his birth, I was glad to be advised by Roger to contact a Paris based Jewish consortium for paying the flight to and from Israel. Thanks to this invitation, I could be interviewed at Kol Israel, for a live broadcast, by Madame Themanlys belonging to the family of the study group around Max Théon; and also Yehuda Hanegby, editor of the literary magazine Ariel: drawn by the kibbutz aspect of Auroville, within a few days after we met, Yehuda left for Pondicherry, carrying a jar of honey from Israel. This was for me an occasion also to meet the veteran philosopher Shmuel Hugo Bergmann who, with his friends Golda Meir and David Ben Gurion, studied together Sri Aurobindo.  In fact, I found in his library, a rack full of masterpieces by the author of The Life Divine.

Convinced that I could be an adequate missionary of Auroville, Roger sent me to centres where people were eagerly waiting for the green signal for joining the first caravan for Auroville. My last trip was to bring information to Forbach where a group of young teachers got ready for the caravan: Christiane – with her new name Bhaga  – recently passed away in her home at Auroville.

Once I was slightly upset to learn that Jean-Pierre Elkabach of the French TV was preparing a live programme on Auroville with a few guests  with Roger participating; there was the vedette  professor  Henri Lefebre, philosopher cum sociologist. A few hours before the event I met Elkabbach and persuaded him to  include me for the debate. Though Roger was not very happy to see me among the participants, I warned him about the position Lefebre was going to take. Roger was in no mood for listening to my intuitive words and took the wrong track, irritating the maestro who had an immense influence on university goers.

The Mother’s omniscience had detected in Roger the best architect of the world. Roger spared no pains to justify this intuitive compliment.