With deep sorrow, we remember Raj Babu Gandham, “Baabaai” to Saranya, a poet, patriot, and optimist whose profound micro verses and warm presence left a lasting literary mark. A heartfelt tribute for Different Truths.
It is with deep sorrow that we bid farewell to Raj Babu Gandham — poet, patriot, eternal optimist, and a gentleman whose grace left a lasting imprint on the literary landscape of India.
I’d fondly call him “Baabaai,” (Telugu for uncle). Raj Babu was more than a beloved elder, well-wisher and colleague; he was a steady presence in poetry festivals across the country, quietly nurturing bonds and building bridges through verse. His words were brief but profound, reflecting his unwavering belief in the small yet significant — the way I see it: “Micro Verses, Macro Life.”
His resounding voice, rich and unmistakable, carried both the gravitas of his convictions and the warmth of his personality. Whether reciting poetry or striking up a conversation, he had a way of making each word linger. Off stage, his love for old Hindi songs often found its way into long drives and casual conversations — a man who could just as easily quote a lyric as he would a line of poetry.
Raj Babu was a true rasika — a connoisseur of the arts in every form. He celebrated not only poets but also dancers, painters, singers, and artisans. His appreciation for cultural expression was deep, inclusive, and generous, making him a beloved presence in every creative circle he touched. And this despite his occasional tongue-in-cheek criticism of that which he considered mundane.
He was the kind of person who would drive you to the hospital in a crisis and offer words of comfort in chaos, whose humour lifted hearts and whose love for the gentle things in life made him both tender and wise. His micro poems, often deceptively simple, carried the pulse of a patriot, the wonder of a dreamer, and the compassion of a true humanist.
Even as age and ailment slowed his steps, he remained rooted in optimism, quietly recouping, retreating from the noise—until the silence of his absence took us all by surprise.
He leaves behind not just a trail of published books, co-creations, and performances, but a community of poets and readers who carry his spirit in their pens and hearts. To those of us who had the privilege of knowing him, his memory will forever bloom — in verse, in laughter, in the jasmine-scented pauses between lines. In the words of an old Hindi song we all last hummed together, your absence makes all of us say, “Lagtha nahi hai dil yahaan” (the heart, no longer is at ease here).
Rest well, Raj Babu Baabaai. Your micro verses will echo through time, and your macro life will continue to inspire.
Photos sourced by the author
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