Atal Behari Vajpayee and his father were classmates in Kanpur

Lucknow: In 1945, when a 21-year-old Atal Behari Vajpayee enrolled in a Kanpur college to study law, he had a classmate who was already retired after serving 30 years as a teacher.

He was none other than his father. Pandit Krishna Beharilal Vajpayee was above 50 when he became Vajpayee’s classmate at DAV college Kanpur.

After Vajpayee became Prime Minister, his alma mater published a write-up by him in the college magazine in 2002-03, which reveals more about the two.

“Have you ever seen or heard of a college, where both father and son studied together, and that too even in the same class,” Vajpayee wrote in the article.

“If not, then your information pertaining to Kanpur’s DAV College will be simply considered incomplete. This was such a college, which not only witnessed a father and son studying together, but also set a theatrical stage for it.”

College principal Amit Kumar Srivastava says the former Prime Minister and his father were in the same section studying law, but eventually they changed their sections.

“Whenever my father was late for the class, the professors amidst laughter, used to ask ‘tell where your father has disappeared’. And when I was late, he used to be questioned as to ‘why your son is missing’,” Vajpayee wrote.

“This situation was posing a problem for both of us, and it was decided that my father will remain in one section, while I will move to another.”

In the article, Vajpayee also revealed how he and his father — Pandit Krishna Beharilal Vajpayee — became classmates.

“It was 1945-46. I had completed BA from Victoria College, Gwalior, and was worried about the future....My father had retired from government service. My two sisters were of marriageable age. Dowry had assumed the shape of a curse. From where will I manage resources for post-graduation?”

But when all the doors seemed closed, Gwalior Maharaja Shrimant Jivaji Rao Scindia, who knew Vajpayee well as a student, offered him a monthly scholarship of Rs 75, which is equivalent to today’s (2002-03) Rs 200, he wrote.

“The wrinkles of tension on fathers face gradually started to disappear. The family heaved a sigh of relief, and I too, took a plunge in happy dreams of the future.”