In Loving Memory of my father, Late Shri Rama Chandra Panda (08.02.1932 – 05.07.2025)
Akshaya Panda, Bhubaneswar, 5 August 2025
When I reflect on my father, the late Shri Rama Chandra Panda, the first things that come to mind are his discipline, strong work ethic, and firm principles. He led by example, living a life anchored in public service and never seeking personal gain—whether in the form of material possessions, money, or power. Beyond these admirable traits, I remember Bapa most for the loving family man he was, deeply invested in the well-being of his loved ones.
As a dedicated public servant, Bapa served the people of Odisha with integrity and resolve, earning respect from colleagues, subordinates, and leaders alike. His work with prominent figures, including Chief Minister J.B. Patnaik and other ministers of his time, continues to be remembered with admiration. Whether as Executive Officer of Bhubaneswar Municipal Corporation or in other government roles, he upheld honesty and hard work in an environment where corruption was all too common. To him, public service was far more than just a job—it was his calling.
What truly set Bapa apart was how his upright public persona was matched by the caring and compassionate man he was in private. He brought several of my cousins from our ancestral home in Jajpur to Bhubaneswar to ensure they received a good education, treating them as his own children while they lived with us. He believed in equality and fairness, showing the same kindness and dignity to everyone—from subordinates at work to poor children playing near our Nayapalli home.
As a father, Bapa was a strict disciplinarian. I still remember my friends teasing me because he would never allow me to ride a bike without a helmet—even in the 1980s when the law was barely enforced. He believed in tough love. I vividly recall him pulling me by the ear from the cricket ground, scolding me the entire way home, because he wanted me to focus on my studies. Ironically, in his later years, he became a passionate cricket fan, and during my visits to Bhubaneswar, we would spend hours watching matches and discussing every ball.
Although I mostly saw his strict side during my childhood, he gave me many cherished memories—boat rides, outings during official tours, and small acts of love. When I was studying in Delhi and wrote home for money to visit Kashmir with friends, he sent it without hesitation, even though finances were tight. That quiet act of generosity still stays with me.
When I moved to the US for my MBA, Bapa stood behind me like a pillar. He believed in me more than anyone else and gave me strength when I needed it most. That same encouragement and pride extended to my children as well. He took great joy in their studies and achievements, particularly proud that his grandchildren were at MIT and Harvard and pursuing careers in medicine and research. Even a few months before his passing, he could talk about their work in detail, impressing everyone with his love for education and sharp memory. He was especially fond of my son, Gokul. I will never forget him asking Gokul, “When are you getting your Nobel Prize?”—a question filled with affection, pride, and high expectations.
After retirement, Bapa began a new chapter of life centered on the belief that “health is wealth.” He practiced yoga and pranayama daily and enthusiastically taught anyone who visited him. Healthy food, discipline, and a positive outlook became his guiding principles. When I started my probiotics company, he was my very first customer—curious and proud, eager to learn all about it.
As a loving father, he would shower me with affection whenever I returned home from the US, making sure I was well cared for with my favorite foods— nai chinguri, mutton curry, and Amrapali mangoes from our garden. He was observant, intelligent, and kind in his own quiet way. In his later years, one of his greatest joys was organizing family get-togethers, taking particular delight when his grandchildren joined in and urging them to enjoy generous portions of mutton biryani. He extended the same loving care to Ma, looking after her health and happiness with complete devotion until her final days.
Bapa loved his morning walks, friendly conversations with his walking companions, and social gatherings with former colleagues. He also enjoyed listening to the radio several times a day, keeping himself updated on the news, current affairs, and public issues in the country and around the world.
I could not be there by his side during his final moments because of unfortunate circumstances, and that will always remain a pain in my heart. But I feel grateful that just a couple of months before his passing, I was able to spend precious quality time with him – time that I will hold close to my heart forever.
My father was a rare individual—principled and strong, yet soft and kind. To the world, he was an honest and upright officer. To me, he was everything—my guide, my support, my strength. Bapa, you will always live in my heart. Your honesty, your discipline, your love, and your blessings will guide me forever.
