DI captain Neil O’Brien accepts the Argus ’96 trophy as quizmaster R.M. Sen applauds

Last weekend, the Argus Open Quiz had crossed the finishing line, the winners were declared (Octette, Answering Service and Byapok) and the crowd on the Dalhousie Institute (DI) lawns was ready to disperse, when the quizmaster took up the mike again. “After 30 years of quizzing, I think it is time to retire,” he announced. In no time, the mob descended on him, speaking in one tongue — do not stop what is one of last remaining open quizzes in the city.

R.M. Sen, who has the reputation of being slightly unpredictable and eccentric, is the spectacular one-man team that has kept the quiz going for three decades. His has been a life dedicated to the art of asking questions, from the time quizzing didn’t know either big money or star power.

His dedication is legendary. When once the music system failed during an Argus final, Sen sang out all the clues, generating much mirth. He is the hero of many such anecdotes.

“The first quiz I attended was in 1969 when a colleague in our office pool car insisted that we register. I did not even know what the word meant,” Sen smiles, taking his cap off to reveal a shiny pate. “I had a lot of hair then.”

The same year he formed Argus Quiz Club and became a member of DI, the seat of quizzing. Sen says quizzing in Calcutta was started by the Anglo-Indians. “Other than Neil O’Brien, from whom I learnt a lot, there were Francis Groser, Alban E. Scolt and Errol Cowper.” But many like Sen, with a Bengali-medium background, faced a hurdle. “We would not know about the patron saints or the first bishop of Baruipur with a Hindu name.” That is why he gives credit to Sadhan Banerjee, one of his peers, for introducing “an Indianness”.

By 1970, a group of faithfuls would gather on Sundays for practice sessions. “One of them would be the quiz master.” Sen points out that quick recall is a talent that needs to be honed. “Read what comes your way but mugging does not help.”

The 70s and the early 80s comprised the golden age of quizzing in Calcutta , feels Sen. “There were half a dozen open quizzes. Now only two remain.”

While the Argus Open Quiz started in 1978, the Argus Plate Quiz followed in the 80s. “It was meant for teams that could not win any of the events. I used to do most of the funding and donated four trophies. It went on for 15-16 years. The trophies got lost.”

Then there was the Argus Apex Quiz, for individuals. The points earned at each Sunday session would be carried over for a finale at the year-end at a public venue. Simultaneously, club members were competing in other quizzes under the club name.

Now, the membership has come down to a handful. “These days, the schools are very active in quizzing but the action fizzles out in college. Good students are leaving the state for higher studies. Who would compete at the senior level?” he sighs.

Of the original band, the only other surviving member is Pranab Bose. “He had named the quiz Argus, after the 100-eyed dog that Iris created to keep watch over the philandering Zeus, her husband.”

Today, Sen, a writer of many quiz books since, cuts a lonely figure. “In those days, there would be two quizmasters. Now I have no one as a sounding board.”

He has not graduated to the television but appreciates Siddarth Basu for doing so with Quiz Time. Nor does he resent film stars taking centrestage. “Some of the questions Amitabh Bachchan asked in Kaun Banega Crorepati? would have fallen flat on our lips. How else would you attract the layman?”

If he talks of retirement it is because of strained resources. “It takes at least Rs 70,000 to have a quiz.” He still wants to spread quiz beyond the English-speaking circle.

 

' This year our team Octette did a hattrick at Argus. Neil, Barry and he define the scales in Calcutta quizzing. Sen is unpredictable. There’s no knowing what he pulls out of his Nepali hat. He has such a sense of humour that even if he forgets things he will joke about it. I don’t take his retirement threat seriously. Like old soldiers, he will do the job as long as he can stand and speak'

Anil Vaswani, entrepreneur

' R.M. Sen is very particular about time. Once a JU team had qualified for the finals but vanished at the interval. They were called Old Adventurers, the name of a brand of rum. A furious Sen started the final without them. Midway through the first question being passed they sneaked in and asked for the question to be repeated. Sen refused. The team before them had answered whiskey, so they said rum. That was correct. Sen broke into a laugh '

Joy Bhattacharjya, director, Kolkata Knight Riders