Among all the amazing people I’ve worked with, one name rises above—not for how loudly he spoke, but for how softly he walked.
Sampad Mahapatra. Or SM, as I’ll refer to him here.
The First Impression That Lasted
I first encountered SM in 1994 as a guest faculty member at the Indian Institute of Mass Communication, Dhenkanal. Although he was already an established editor, he spared time to address our class of journalism students.
But even in that single interaction, his sincerity and humility lingered.
Years later, I worked with him at NDTV, where he led the Bhubaneswar bureau. I was a young producer based in the national newsroom. SM was already a giant in the field, with experience and wisdom far beyond my years. But the way he treated me—and everyone else—left me speechless.
Always respectful. Always gracious. Almost embarrassingly kind.
He made you feel seen, valued, and respected, regardless of who you were.
Humility in Every Step
SM had a quiet charisma that never needed a microphone. He didn’t flaunt his credentials or demand attention. He was, in every sense, a gentleman. No ego. No airs. No performance.
Yet, he carried weight in every newsroom. He built lasting trust not through words but through actions.
I remember visiting Odisha as a field producer during elections in the late 90s. I was assigned to carry a heavy video camera as hand luggage to support the Bhubaneswar bureau. As soon as the plane landed, SM—waiting at the tarmac—walked in, greeted me warmly, and took the camera from my hands like it was nothing.
That plane had a former chief minister, union ministers, and high-ranking officials. They wondered why this respected journalist was fussing over a young producer. SM noticed none of it. He didn’t care about appearances. He cared about people.
No Job Too Small. No Role Too Big
A prominent journalist was sent from another state to be the on-air face during that election. SM didn’t flinch. Despite knowing Odisha’s politics better than anyone else in the newsroom, he was happy to play a supporting role—organising guests, handling logistics, and briefing the anchor.
Most in his position would have felt slighted. But not SM. That wasn’t how he operated.
He had to be gently persuaded to appear on screen for a few interviews. Even then, he agreed only because saying no was harder for him than stepping in front of the camera.
That’s who he was—more interested in the work than the credit.
Goodwill That Moved Mountains
The channel we created content for wasn’t visible in Odisha during those elections due to a carriage issue with the local MSO. Political leaders hesitated to give interviews because the channel wasn’t reaching viewers.
SM made a quiet call to someone at the cable network. He didn’t pull rank. He just explained the situation, respectfully and honestly.
Within hours, the channel was back on air.
That wasn’t just influence. That was trust and goodwill built over decades—brick by brick, relationship by relationship.
No Selective Favour. No Selective Friends
When I invited him to my wedding, he politely declined. He didn’t attend social events, he explained. It wasn’t personal—it was principle. As he couldn’t participate in every occasion, he didn’t want anyone to feel less important by being left out.
But when I insisted, he made an exception. He showed up for a pre-wedding function quietly, without fanfare. That one gesture meant more than any elaborate toast.
Eighteen Years Later, Nothing Had Changed
Just a few days ago, I found out SM had turned 70. I hadn’t spoken to him in years. On impulse, I dialled his number. It was busy. A few minutes later, he returned the missed call without knowing who had called.
That’s just who he is. Thoughtful, dignified, and true to himself, no matter who’s watching.
If you ask me what greatness looks like, I’ll tell you it’s not loud. It doesn’t come with flashing lights or headline acts.
The Legacy of Sampad Mahapatra
Sometimes, greatness is a man who carries your camera so you won’t have to. Who plays a background role when he could’ve easily taken centerstage. Who builds trust quietly, leads with heart, and never stops being kind—no matter how high he rises. Sampad Mahapatra didn’t just teach me journalism. He taught me dignity, grace, and how to lead without noise.
To have watched him up close has been one of the greatest privileges of my life.
About Me
I am a thinker at all times. I see, I think. I hear, I think. I read, I think. Every weekend I write. I would love to know what you think.