Sankarshan Thakur’s passing marks the end of an era in Indian journalism, where fearless ground reporting and literary elegance coexisted in rare harmony. Over nearly four decades, he carved a distinctive space for himself as a chronicler of Indian politics and society, blending sharp analysis with empathy and an unmatched narrative style. His career, which began in 1984 with SUNDAY magazine, later flourished at The Indian Express, Tehelka, and most notably The Telegraph, where his byline became synonymous with insight and integrity.
Born in Patna in 1962, Thakur carried forward the journalistic legacy of his father, Janardhan Thakur, and remained deeply connected to his roots. Bihar, in particular, was central to his work, not only in his journalism but also in his acclaimed biographies of towering state leaders like Lalu Prasad Yadav and Nitish Kumar. His books — Subaltern Saheb, Single Man: The Life and Times of Nitish Kumar of Bihar, and The Brothers Bihari — continue to serve as definitive political accounts of the region. He was equally passionate about Kashmir, a place he regarded as close to his heart, and his writings on the Valley stood out for their balance, depth and humanity.
Colleagues and contemporaries remember him as a reporter who wrote with the soul of a poet. His coverage spanned the defining events of modern India — from the Bhopal gas tragedy and the anti-Sikh riots of 1984 to the Sri Lankan civil war, the complexities of Pakistan, and the Kargil conflict, where his dispatches captured nuances that went beyond the immediacy of television images. For this work, he was honoured with the Prem Bhatia Award in 2001 and the Appan Menon Fellowship in 2003, solidifying his stature as one of India’s foremost political journalists.
Tributes poured in from political leaders, journalists and readers alike. Omar Abdullah remembered him as a rare journalist who truly listened to the people of Jammu and Kashmir, while Jairam Ramesh praised his brilliance and incisiveness. RJD’s Manoj Jha noted his courage to swim against the current, and fellow journalists like Rasheed Kidwai recalled his vitality and unwavering integrity, even in the face of illness. For many, he embodied the ideal of objectivity, refusing to let personal biases colour his reporting.
The Editors Guild of India hailed him as a “fearless ground reporter” who brought to life some of India’s most defining moments. Others, like Nilanjana Roy and AJ Philip, described him as a “lighthouse of an editor” and a storyteller who captured war and politics with poetic depth. His sudden death has left a void in Indian journalism, one that readers and colleagues alike acknowledge cannot easily be filled.
Until his last months, Thakur remained active, sharing stories, laughing with friends, and planning to cover the Bihar elections. His untimely demise at 63 is a reminder of the uncertainties he himself had written about. Yet, his legacy lives on in the countless stories he told — with courage, conscience, and a rare blend of sharpness and empathy that will continue to inspire generations of journalists.
