September 21: I watched as Gate No. 37 of the Rashtrapati Bhavan opened to engulf our car in a welcome embrace. Towering, ornate, they looked fantastic. Jayasri was silent. I knew, like me, she was devouring the experience with all her senses. It was around 3.30pm.

We had received the invitation [to stay at the Rashtrapati Bhavan] from Mrs Omita Paul [secretary to the President of India, Pranab Mukherjee] in January. I was taken aback. I had visited Rashtrapati Bhavan a few times for some function or the other, but a two-week stay? I wrote back to say I would be delighted. I was told end of summer, beginning winter would be a good time.

And now, finally, we were here. Possibly, the biggest presidential estate in the world. It used to fascinate me from a distance. On misty winter evenings, gleaming like a dainty sindurer kouto perched on Raisina Hill. Now, inside the precincts, the magnitude hit me. People talk about Versailles and Buckingham Palace, but this is no less regal. Spread over 300-plus acres; a city in itself.

A week back I had visited the place. I was shown the designated studio area. I was going to bring my canvases, as I planned to work right through our visit. 

We were greeted with flowers at the gates of the Rashtrapati Bhavan, on the South Court side. We went inside and walked up a grand staircase to our suite. 

It was called Jhelum. A huge living area containing a bedroom, two bathrooms, a dining room and drawing room. The USP of the room to me was its high ceilings and windows — overlooking the magnificent Mughal Gardens. 

The studio was directly on the floor below. About 80 feet long, with a 30-feet-high ceiling, in the south wing of the Rashtrapati Bhavan.

Evening, I went out for a walk. So much of green, so many shades. I walked three kilometres, had an early dinner and fell asleep looking forward to the next day.

September 22: Woke up at 5.30am. The north-east corner of the bedroom was bathed in this soft morning light. What an artist He is. What a mixer of colours!

I had my first cup of tea and went out for a walk. Later, Ghosh, the attendant assigned to us, showed us around. Our first stop, the stables of the President’s Bodyguard. About 80 horses of different breeds. Chocolate, black… their coats glistening, muscles like Mr Universe, their tails thick, proud.

Jayasri and I saw the auditorium, the water treatment plant and the museum and art gallery that will be inaugurated on Gandhi Jayanti.

Venu Rajamony, a career diplomat and press secretary to the President of India, ushered us into the Durbar Hall. A handsome man with handsome manners. The Durbar Hall has a gorgeous ceiling and fascinating murals… I was reminded of the Vatican. The President was on his way, Mr Rajamony informed us.

And then we were standing in front of the President. We went forward to greet him and did pronam. I am not a wordsmith, I work with lines and colours. But to describe that moment, I wish I had more words in my quiver. He was genial and magnetic and regal. As Mr Rajamony ran through the introductions, the President said: “Poshak dekhlei bojha jai artist. Khoob bhalo. Khoob bhalo (One can tell from the attire that here is an artist. Very good. Very, good).”

There are hundreds of guest houses in the President’s Estate, but in the President’s house only some rooms are open to guests. During our stay, we were the only guests.

After lunch, I returned to my canvases and Jayasri to hers — she worked in the drawing room in the suite. The canvases — 5 feet by 10 feet — seemed so small, like miniatures, in these exaggerated settings.

I painted right through the evening and then as the sun was setting, I stepped out for my evening constitutional. Peacocks, peacocks everywhere. Like crows in Calcutta.

September 23: Woke up slightly late. It was 6am. Went for my walk. Came back and enjoyed the elaborate breakfast — oatmeal, fruits, eggs (any style), whole wheat bread… That afternoon, we were invited to the book launch of the Vice-President, Dr Hamid Ansari.

Jayasri and I took our seats. Then one of the President’s men came and asked us to move to the front row. I was terribly embarrassed. Sitting next to us were the former PM Manmohan Singh, the current PM Narendra Modi and many other ministers. There were speeches and high tea. I returned to the studio after that.

As I picked up the brush and looked at the Banaras painting, it suddenly occurred to me that it had developed a mind of its own. It was a pleasure working in this room. I could view all the canvases at once. I went up and got some jhalmuri I had brought along from Calcutta.

I love this time of the day. Tea meets twilight and the long walk in the verdant compound stretches ahead of me like a treat.

Here’s something I wanted to tell the President, but couldn’t. I felt like rolling on the Presidential greens!

September 24: I happened to catch the Change of Guards ceremony on the forecourt of the Rashtrapati Bhavan. It was spectacular, this human shuffling. The President’s bodyguards,  smartly turned out. Stomping feet and practised shouts. The brass band playing the national anthem in the background. I had witnessed the Change of Guards ceremony at the Buckingham Palace, but this one gave me goosebumps. 

Later, I got a call from the President’s office. An invitation to a rudra veena recital by the Dagar brothers in the evening.
There was an accompanying request. Would it be possible for me to show some of my paintings? The President would like to see them.

I decided on the Banaras painting. It was nearly done. And where would it be put up and how? I needn’t have worried. In the dream palace, things happen no sooner than a thought has taken shape.

In the evening the President, the Vice-President, the secretary to the President and the press secretary, all came to see the painting. Much appreciation, felt humbled.

September 25: A Sunday at the Rashtrapati Bhavan. I found the morning misty. The season’s first. Later in the day, we were taken to the Rashtrapati Bhavan ayurvedic centre — Ayush. An invigorating oil massage, followed by a meal and several hours of painting. For dinner, Jayasri cooked in the suite kitchen. Potoler dalna. It is beginning to feel like home.

September 26: I saw dew on the golf course today. Spent some time giving finishing touches to one of the paintings. Then did a three-hour tour of the presidential estate. Ghosh accompanied us. Mr Rajamony threw a dinner for us at his house. It was a lovely evening.

September 27: I worked eight to nine hours at a stretch. I did some watercolours of the view from the studio. Lots of blues on the canvases. Turquoise, cobalt blue… The days are becoming shorter. Had a lovely mutton korma for dinner. 

September 28: Stepping out of the Rashtrapati Bhavan. Have to go to the Lalit Kala Akademi. This is the time when the gallery allotment happens, the selection of exhibitions to be hosted at the Akademi the whole year.

Is the outside world really so noisy, so congested? By the time I return I am practically gasping. I change and rush out for my evening walk. Today, I have not been able to work in the studio at all. So I doodle before going to bed. Not a day should pass when I do not do any lines.

September 29: Another day at Lalit Kala. No time to do much after I return to the royal address. There is this fascinating book on the birds in the presidential estate. I read a bit before falling asleep. 

September 30: My eyes just popped open at 4.30am. It is Mahalaya. It is as if someone flipped the invisible calendar inside me. Birendra Krishna Bhadra’s ancient voice poured out generously from my phone.

Monta kemon hoye gelo. Pujo eshe geche.

Two of the paintings are almost ready. Made arrangements to have one framed. The Banaras painting. I would like to gift it to the new museum. Like I said before, magic palace — things get done before you can think them up.

October 1: Today is the gala dinner. It will be hosted at the Banquet Hall, where Barack Obama had been hosted.

Just before dinner we were ushered into the study for a brief meeting with the President. “Bosho bosho,” he welcomed us inside. We thanked him for hosting us. He wanted to know if we had enjoyed our stay. We exchanged pleasantries for about 15 minutes and left. It seems the Prime Minister was on his way to see him.

We headed for the Banquet Hall. It is big enough to accommodate 1,000 people. Mr Rajamony gave a speech, so did Mrs Omita Paul. I was also requested to say something. It was a fantastic dinner and there was some extraordinary music played by the Naval Band.

Our penultimate day at Rashtrapati Bhavan.

October 2: Jayasri left for Calcutta at 4.30 in the morning. I was feeling emotional as I packed by myself. It has been a grand and historic stay. Did I ever imagine in my wildest dreams that I would be hosted by the President of India?

In the evening, the art gallery and museum were inaugurated, my Banaras painting and Jayasri’s Saraswati adorned the walls of the new museum. Mr Rajamony and Mrs Omita Paul came around. “Come back any time. You must,” they said. “You are part of our extended family now.”

I am humbled. Overwhelmed. Baaro maashe tero parbon shesh.