Professor M.P. Singh passed away on 7 March 2026. For many of us who studied constitutional law, his presence was felt long before we ever encountered him in person. Most often, it was through his work on VN Shukla's Constitution of India. For a student, his name carried a certain authority.
I consider myself fortunate that I was able to meet him.
My first interaction with him was in 2019, when he visited Dr. Ram Manohar Lohiya National Law University (RMLNLU), Lucknow, to deliver a lecture on affirmative action. I had just returned home in Lucknow after completing my LLM in the United States, and I went to attend his lecture. I still remember the ease with which he carried himself: gentle, unassuming, and deeply attentive. He engaged in a long conversation with me, despite not knowing me personally.
But what stayed with me most from that visit was a moment during the Q&A. A student, instead of asking a question, talked about how affirmative action was bad. For the only time that day, Professor Singh lost his composure. He interrupted, firmly correcting the student, and insisted that one cannot speak of affirmative action without understanding the social conditions that make it necessary.
I later had the opportunity to interact with him more closely after he joined Jindal Global Law School (JGLS) in 2020, when I also joined there. I remember once requesting him through a colleague (almost hesitantly) if I could sit in his class on comparative constitutional law. He agreed immediately and gently. I sat through that class, learning from decades of his engagement with the subject.
We were, in some ways, unlucky. Soon after, the pandemic struck, and classes moved online. We lost the chance to sit in his classroom again, to watch him teach again in person. But I remained in touch with him over the years. In later semesters conducted online, when he taught courses on comparative constitutional law and equality law, he invited me to deliver a lecture on affirmative action. After the lecture, he appreciated me. Coming from him, it meant a great deal.
Soon, Professor Singh stepped away from full-time teaching due to his health and moved to his village, Jitholi, in the Meerut district of Uttar Pradesh. He was always deeply connected to his village. So much so that even his email carried its name: mpjitholi@gmail.com.
In 2023-24, on behalf of the Supreme Court of India, I formally coordinated with him for contributing a chapter to Justice for the Nation, an edited volume published to mark the Court's 75th year. Despite his poor health, he wrote a chapter on reservations. After the book was published, he wrote to me: “Glad to keep me alive. (sic)”
Over time, our interactions extended beyond institutional spaces. My colleague, Surendra Kumar (now at Ramaiah Law College, Bengaluru), who used to assist Professor Singh at JGLS, would often visit him whenever he was in Delhi. One day, Surendra and I decided to visit his village together. Another colleague, Vrishti Shami, tagged along.
That visit, on 18 October 2025, remains one of my most cherished memories. We spent nearly four hours with Professor Singh, though it felt far too short. He spoke about his deteriorating health, about his decision to return to the village despite the lack of support systems, and about his life's journey. We walked through the fields near his home and later stepped out briefly for lunch in the nearby town.
On the way back, Professor Singh became nostalgic. He spoke about his early days, his time at Lucknow University, his interactions with Professor V.N. Shukla, and how he had been encouraged to take up teaching at Delhi University.
At one point, almost in passing, he said: “Kabhi kabhi to lagta hai, zindagi kal hi shuru hui thi, aur aaj khatm ho gayi.” (Sometimes it feels as though life had only just begun yesterday, and today it has come to an end.) After he passed away, I was constantly thinking of this line. Perhaps Professor Singh wanted to contribute more to society.
But I am sure about one thing. He was content with his life. That he chose to spend his final years in his village also tells us how humble and simple he was. At a time when many feel the need to remain visible, to stay at the centre of institutions, he chose the quiet comfort of his village instead.
That day, he also mentioned that one of his last aspirations was that we should pass on his experiences as a teacher and a scholar to the next generation. We could sit with him for longer on a regular basis, take notes during our conversations, and better understand the different phases of his journey.
We promised him that we would come back and plan it properly. The last time I spoke to him was a month ago to check on his health. He was struggling to speak. I told him that I would come and meet him soon. I kept planning that visit. And then, one day, the news came that he was no more. I still find it difficult to process that he is no longer with us.
For many, Professor M.P. Singh will be remembered as a leading constitutional scholar, a teacher, and an institution in himself. But for me, more than the scholar or teacher, he was a great human being, who touched lives quietly, encouraged students generously, and gave himself fully to both scholarship and society. I am grateful that I met him. And even more grateful that I could learn from him.
Professor Singh is no longer with us, but his legacy continues to place a responsibility on all of us. It calls for a commitment to rigorous scholarship, and equally, to a way of being gentle, generous, and deeply supportive of learners around us. There were, of course, legal positions he took with which one may disagree. But that is precisely what he gave us: a body of work that invites engagement, critique, and disagreement with integrity. In that sense, he did not ask for reverence, but for seriousness. And perhaps the greatest tribute we can offer him is not just remembrance, but to carry forward that intellectual honesty, with the same respect and grace that he embodied.
He should not be remembered merely through memorial lectures or formal tributes. He should be remembered by sustaining the commitment to society that he embodied. At a time when very few were willing to stand by affirmative action, he not only supported it but engaged with it seriously. He was among the rare scholars who defended the idea in an era when it was not easy to do so.
That day, before leaving, I had asked him, “Why did you come back to your village? There are hardly any facilities here.” He responded, “Yahi paida huye the, ab yahi se jana hai” (I was born here. I want to die here only.)
Goodbye, Sir.
(Dr. Anurag Bhaskar is author of 'The Foresighted Ambedkar: Ideas That Shaped Indian Constitutional Discourse' (Penguin, 2024))
Views are personal.