A Warrior Writer Who Fought for Justice - Prof. Milind Joshi

The morning of July 25, 2024, brought with it the sorrowful news of Father’s passing. The grief was profound, and all day, a cascade of memories swirled in my mind. My acquaintance with Father Francis Dibrito began at a symposium in Pune. The topic was ‘How Religion Has Evolved Through Time.’ Father was deeply impressed by my address, in which I presented a rather bold thesis: that since the concepts of God and religion are human creations, they can never be superior to humanity itself. He appreciated the candor of the thought, and from that day, a friendship was forged between us. Every week or two, I would receive a call from him in Vasai. “Milind Bhau, how are you?” he would ask, his voice warm with genuine inquiry. We often shared the stage as speakers at numerous literary gatherings across Maharashtra, and with each meeting, our bond deepened. I was deeply fond of his simple, elegant, and lyrical manner of speaking, a quality that was mirrored in his writing. I was a regular reader of his newspaper columns, and whenever he came across something I had written, he would call without fail. This shared respect nurtured our friendship. In 2017, the Principal Shivajirao Bhosale Memorial Committee, of which I am the president, had the honour of bestowing upon him the Principal Shivajirao Bhosale Memorial Award. His joy on that occasion was immense. Later, when his name was proposed for the presidency of the Akhil Bharatiya Marathi Sahitya Sammelan in Dharashiv, the Maharashtra Sahitya Parishad, under my guidance, fully endorsed him at the federation meeting. Father had been associated with the Sahitya Parishad for many years, gracing our events as a chief guest or chairperson. However, his election to the presidency of the Sammelan ignited a firestorm of controversy. Initially, the president of the All India Marathi Literary Corporation, Kautikrao Thale Patil, and I were inundated with abusive phone calls. Soon, the abuse escalated to threats—so much so that the police department advised us both to accept police protection. It is a tradition for the Maharashtra Sahitya Parishad to hold the first felicitation for the newly elected president. For this event, too, threats were made to cause a disturbance. The police were adamant, and we were compelled to hold the ceremony under police guard. It was a sombre first in the history of the Parishad: a literary president being honoured under the watch of the police. Father, however, travelled from Vasai for the ceremony without any security detail. In his speech, he thundered, “I am a son of this Marathi soil.” When my book , a collection of articles on the centenaries of great writers, was published, I asked him to write the foreword. He accepted my request instantly and, within a week, sent back a beautifully penned introduction. Father often invited me to Vasai for various lecture series. Though he was a Christian priest, he shared an exceptionally close and warm relationship with the leaders of all other faiths in Vasai. They would frequently invite one another to their respective community events, fostering a genuine and seamless bond of affection. After the pandemic, he invited me to deliver a lecture in memory of a local family that had lost several of its working members to the crisis. It was Father’s idea to hold a memorial lecture instead of a conventional religious ritual, a concept the family embraced. I went to Vasai. The family, setting aside their own profound grief, welcomed me with open hearts. The event was held in a large open space on their property, and the atmosphere was so emotionally charged that my own voice choked as I spoke. I witnessed firsthand how people, in the depths of sorrow, find a way to face life again. I also saw, in the conduct and speech of the common people of Vasai, the immense and heartfelt reverence they held for Father. I was to see him one last time at a one-day literary meet organized by magazine, where he had served as editor for many years. He had invited me as a speaker. Archbishop Dr. Felix Machado was to preside. I delivered my lecture, and the poet Ashok Naigaonkar presented a delightful program of humor and poetry. Over five hundred people attended. But Father could not attend due to his failing health. I went to visit him afterward. He was overjoyed to see me, but it was clear that his health was deteriorating. It was to be our final meeting. The next news that came was of his passing. A kind, affectionate soul who had enriched my life was gone. Father Francis Dibrito was known to Marathi readers as a versatile writer of authentic, beautiful, and lucid prose. Born and raised in the village of Vatar in Vasai, he did not inherit a literary legacy; poverty had denied his parents the opportunity to befriend the written word. He was twice sent out of his primary school class for being unable to pay the monthly fee of four annas. Yet, a love for reading took root in him early. In high school, his literary appetite grew with the daily newspapers, Saane Guruji’s , biographies of Gandhi, Buddha, and Christ, and the works of V. S. Khandekar and N. S. Phadke. His life reached a turning point after the eleventh grade. While his family wanted him to attend college, he was contemplating the priesthood. They warned him of the arduous life it entailed—a life away from home, with his back turned to worldly affairs, a life of simplicity, and of obedience to his superiors. But his resolve was firm. At the age of nineteen, he entered the St. Pius Seminary in Goregaon. There, he discovered a treasure trove of Marathi and English literature. He immersed himself in spiritual texts and the lives of saints, while also devouring the classics of English literature. An Irish priest introduced him to the essays of Matthew Arnold, Francis Bacon, and G. K. Chesterton. He was profoundly influenced by Jane Austen’s and Charles Dickens’s . While studying philosophy, he encountered the works of Gabriel Marcel, Sartre, Nietzsche, and Kierkegaard, which vastly expanded the horizons of his consciousness. His love for the Marathi language led him to study its deepest nuances, and he turned to the works of the great Marathi saints—Eknath, Dnyanoba, Tukoba, Janabai—not only for spiritual wisdom but to connect with people of all faiths in their own idiom. Just as Rev. N. V. Tilak had found his way to Christ through the works of Tukaram, Dibrito’s own journey began to trace a path from Christ to the saints of all faiths. He considered Pandharpur, Dehu, and Alandi to be his own sacred sites, and in turn, was invited to speak from the platforms of Hindu, Buddhist, Jain, and Sikh communities, an experience that repeatedly affirmed his belief in the inherently tolerant and inclusive nature of the Indian people. His early writings were for Christian magazines. Then, a German priest in Pune sent him an English book, , to translate. The Marathi version, , with a foreword by the spiritualist G. V. Tulpule, was so well-received that the editor of a major newspaper wrote an editorial on it, opening a new avenue of literary translation for him. His first original article appeared in in 1965, and he went on to become a regular columnist for all of Maharashtra’s leading newspapers. In 1983, he took over as the editor of the church mouthpiece, . He shed its formulaic, proselytizing character and transformed it into a vibrant literary magazine. He published the poetry of legends like Kusumagraj, Indira Sant, and Mangesh Padgaonkar. He organized symposiums on religion and nationalism, inviting not just Christian thinkers but also luminaries from across the ideological spectrum. He created a platform for intellectual exchange, fostering a culture of listening and dialogue in Vasai that helped bridge communal divides. In his editorials, he tackled sensitive and controversial issues, taking a firm stand against malpractice in the social, political, and medical fields—a stance that earned him the ire of many powerful people. His deep love for nature found expression in three collections of essays. Upon reading one, the literary giant P. L. Deshpande wrote to him: “The delightful coolness of a Vasai palm grove permeates every page of your book... You have read the great, open book of nature not just with your eyes, but with your soul, and you have distributed the peace and joy from that reading like a sacred offering.” His travelogue, , born of his three years in Europe, won every major literary award in Maharashtra. His was honoured with the Sahitya Akademi’s national award for translation. In times of public crisis, the true mettle of an intellectual is tested. In an era where thinkers often lacked courage and men of action lacked thought, Dibrito took a firm stand and paid the price. In the 1980s and 90s, the avaricious gaze of developers and politicians fell upon the verdant landscape of Vasai. Land prices skyrocketed, and the land mafia, in collusion with unscrupulous politicians, took control. Gang wars erupted. In this climate of fear, Father Dibrito waged a relentless battle against local terrorism. His opponents tried to paint his movement with a religious colour to discredit it, but he persevered. Believing that a movement is a challenge to the established order and a call for a new, just creation, he rallied the power of the people against the might of the mafia. He founded the ‘Harit Vasai Sanrakshan Samiti’ (Green Vasai Protection Committee), a direct challenge to these forces. Prominent figures like Vijay Tendulkar, Kusumagraj, and Shabana Azmi lent their support, strengthening his resolve. To those who advised him to stick to religious rituals and stay out of social issues, he retorted, “A religion confined to ritualism risks becoming an opiate, not a solace, for the oppressed. That is why faith must be framed by social commitment. We will continue to fight.” This is what set Dibrito apart from the majority of writers whose only stance is to take no stance at all. His true wealth, accumulated over sixty years of public life, was the countless people of all ages, faiths, and ideologies who were bound to him by a thread of love. He knew, with absolute certainty, that he was not alone. The memory of this warrior writer—a man of unswerving integrity in both life and literature, who complemented his illuminating words with decisive action, who took a stand for the welfare of society, and who fought for justice—will forever remain etched in our hearts. - Prof. Milind Joshi President, Akhil Bhartiya Marathi Sahitya Parishad (This article is the translated version of the original article न्यायासाठी लढणारा लढवय्या लेखक written byProf. Milind Joshi published in the Sahitya Chaprak Diwali Ank 2025 ) https://shop.chaprak.com/product/diwali-ank-2025/