The very first encounter was in the realm of idea. Fresh out of college, dazed with the first encounter with process work in Pulin's then called , "Sensitivity training labs", I began hanging around him , not for any formal transaction but for chatting with a man who, in my view, integrated action, thought and feeling and whose real world and the world of philosophy were in harmony with each other. During the evening teas in the verandah I would hang on to every word. That is when I heard of the formation of a society for "training the trainers".

While I was deeply moved and drawn towards process work I had no clue as to how that would shape into a calling. The only option, it seemed was to join an academic institution. However, the thought of further extending my studenthood after seven years of gruelling demands, did not seem at all attractive. Fascinated by the concept of "training the trainer" I bided my time, making a promise to myself that some day I too must go through it.

I was working in the Indian Space Research Organization in the experiment that became the precursor to today's satellite TV. My work was in mass communication for rural development in all its aspects planning, designing the communication and involvement in the research to evaluate. ISRO then had a good deal of the ethos of the Physical Research Laboratory, Ahmedabad, and encouraged learning and development. Purely out of his indulgence for me Professor Yash Pal, the then Director of the centre in Ahemdabad, agreed to clear my nomination for the internship program of ISABS. The then Education & Research Committee of ISABS in its own wisdom granted me entry into phase II of the three phases. To my delight I found two old friends, Ashok Malhotra and Zahid Gangjee , both alumni of the same institute (IIMA), in my group. I had by then worked with Pulin in some seven labs as a co-trainer and two as a participant. In fact, working with Pulin and his absolutely high standards meant being a participant all the time!

The encounter in ISABS turned out to be totally unexpected. Professor Gouranga Chattopadhyay with his stunning good looks of a classical Bengali bhadrolok, briar pipe in mouth in, to my utter dismay,good pristine Tavistock style, announced in his opening statement that he would not interact with participants, but would only ,from time to time, put forth hypotheses and third person process comments. I had nearly a convulsion and took issue with him without any delay. Disdainfully he emitted a few more puffs of aromatic tobacco and looked into the distance before making another process comment. That brought home to me clearly that there are many kinds of process work available. In the evenings of course we compared the faculty, abused our own, and merriment covered the painful truths gathered during the day. To boot, Gouranga's co-trainer was my old friend Indira Parikh (then a phase III Intern) who in her first lab had me as the co-trainer ! I had never felt so bereft of my little personal group consisting of Pulin, Indira and myself. They were on the faculty, I was a participant. The unexpectedness became acute when Pulin announced the Marathon for the second week in which the entire community would participate and Indira and I would be co-trainers. It was one long turbulent experience, exhilarating, eye-opening and certainly a setting where no location seemed firm enough.

Sorrowfully, however, there were right then strong undercurrents of polarization in the faculty body. As I saw it then "something was amiss" and as I see it now, the problem festered due more to fear or neglect than to anything else. It needed to be addressed squarely as an institutional issue rather than as a conflict over territory or values. Well, that is the past. I cannot say that I relished the experience fully, I cherish some moments, and wonder what other paths could have opened for the unfolding that eventually took place.

A personal part of the story. On the night the Marathon ended at about 2 a.m. some of us stayed awake talking, and at 4 a.m. I received a call informing me of a major accident that my father had had. I had to cut short my stay and take a train, if I remember right , at 6 a.m. did not find a seat, stood at the door, a variety of emotions flooding through me only to be lulled into sleep. When the train took a sharp turn, some miraculous reflex helped me hold on to the bar at the last moment, or else the same fate would have overtaken me as it did my father. He never recovered and died ten months after the Khandala Summer Program.

To summarize the experience, here are some words, not a constructed sentence- diversity, determination, faith, unsettlement, commitment, struggle, recognition,vision. Thank you ISABS 1975.

----sushanta Banerjee