KS Padmanabhan did things without unnecessary fanfare: Mandira Sen, director, Stree-Samya

Mandira Sen, director, Stree-Samya, a publishing house that has done some tremendous works in the field of gender studies, as well as culture and dissent in English and Bengali, recollects her found memories interacting with him.

22 Jul 2013 | By PrintWeek India

KS Padmanabhan made enormous contributions to Indian publishing quietly, almost as a matter of course. He was a publisher of  the high quality books of East-West Press, and had also run a bookshop, Manas,  at Chennai, and later helped found a book club (no registration, no office-bearers, people joined out of a love of books and because they loved talking about books). He was someone to admire and to respect. He was so kind-hearted to beginners. When I was starting on my own in the mid-1980s, I got in touch with him and he agreed to meet me in Chennai and help in every way. I cannot help but remember his characteristic courtesy and gentleness that were part of his great knowledge and distinction.  This was the basis of his very strength of character. He did not have to be aggressive or to shout. Founding Westland meant that he moved into fiction, and some of it popular fiction, which Stree-Samya did not really cover, and we had less contact.

Padmanabhan did things without unnecessary fanfare. He launched the Indian Review of Books, which like all such journals made a vibrant contribution to the world of books but lost money steadily. Regardless, he kept it going for many years. He represented something rare in publishing. At a time of instant celebrity, loud self-praise,  self-importance, here was someone who was into values, supporting colleagues, doing good books and building up his publishing, and thus the industry, quietly. All with honesty, courtesy, grace; which came instinctively to him.

My husband and I met him at his office some years back. His wife, Chandradi was present as she was very much a part of the senior management, and it was great to see them and hear about the new grandchild, who was a source of pure joy for them. His wife had grown up in Calcutta, and was the second person to join a school, then brand new, called Ashok Hall. It was always enjoyable to be with them. Perhaps the last time we met was in 2006, when our distribution held a workshop where he spoke about publishing.

It is not just Indian publishing but Indian industry that is poorer with his loss because of the paucity of probity in public life. I miss him already.