CH 23 :STORY OF A SPECIAL DONATION SEAT

[this is a true story of a girl student of pramukh swami medical college, heard from a very authentic source. Obviously, the true names have been changed..]


When dr.joshi passed out from the medical college, before about half a century, there hardly were any doctors in the area he chose to practice. Dr. joshi could have been a money making machine like others. But he had a different mission. He believed in providing medical service to the poor people around him first. Money was a pure by product of his service. Day or night, winter or summer, dr.joshi was always there to serve his patients.

Soon, he became very popular in his area. The public around him recognized his services. One day, when he was busy in his clinic, a young vibrant sadhu rushed in his chamber.

“doctor, can you please come to visit my guru? He is very sick and is not able to come here…” said the sadhu breathing fast.

“ ok. Where is your guru?” dr.joshi was ready to serve as always.
“just a few kilometers from here..but I have come with a car. We can come back as soon as possible.” said the sadhu .

Dr.joshi took his emergency bag and went along with the young sadhu. Soon, they reached. the guruji was really very sick. The guruji was none other than shri yogiji maharaj from akshar purushottam sect of swaminarayan. Dr.joshi examined yogiji maharaj and prescribed medicines. Dr.joshi’s knowledge of medicine worked again like in his hundreds of patients and after a few days, maharaj became normal.

Then it became routine for the young sadhu to come to dr.joshi and escort him to his guruji whenever it needed. Guruji was very happy with his services and he blessed the doctor every time.

Years passed by. Dr.joshi almost forgot the incident but his selfless services continued. Meanwhile, dr.joshi became father of a beautiful daughter…meena. From his busy practice, he always would find time to play with his beloved daughter. She grew like the princess of fairy tales. She Not only was intelligent but also she was very studious. It became very clear to friends and family around her that one day she would become a doctor like her father. She also wanted to be a doctor. Dr.joshi was also very sure of meena’s academic performance. Soon , meena passed out her 10th std exams with flying colors, adding ambitions to her father and the family.

But life is full of surprises. Even after her genuine efforts, meena could not score the required marks needed to enter a medical college. She just missed it by a few numbers.

The dream appeared broken.

“ dr.joshi, is only because of bad luck that meena could not score in 12th std exams. Why can not you send her to pramukhswami medical college on a donation seat?” some of the friends suggested.
“ no. I can not do this. If she wishes to be a doctor, she has to be on merit. A doctor has to be meritorious.” Dr.joshi had his own ideas.
“ do you really believe that those who have scored few marks more than meena are far better than her? There are 10 donation seats. If you do not try for meena, they are to allot it to some one else with may be even far lesser marks than meena. Would it be good for the society?” at last after much more persuasion dr.joshi agreed to try for a donation seat at pramukhswami medical college karamsad.
“dr.joshi, don’t you remember your services to yogiji maharaj years back? Major donation to pramukhswami medical college is from them. You can remind them while you represent. They are the final authority for all donation seats.”

“oh. That was decades back. Who would remember that.? And shri yogiji maharaj has passed away years back.” dr.joshi was skeptical.

However, in whole of his life, dr.joshi never asked any favor from any one around him. It was really very difficult for him to go to some one and request. But this was different as it was related with life and career of his beloved daughter.

Dr.joshi finally convinced himself to go to pramukhswami maharaj and request him for a donation seat for meena.
“ in which words should I request? Will they listen to my request? Or they just will not let me represent? Would it be prudent to remind them of my services to yogiji maharaj?” dr.joshi had flood of thoughts in his mind on the way to meet the swamiji.

Finally, as per the appointment they reached the place to meet and request shri pramukhswami maharaj. Dr.joshi felt nervous more than he ever felt in his tough medial exams. His heart really beated fast.

As they entered the hall, they saw pramukhswami maharaj sitting graciously in front of them. Some one started introducing dr.joshi to swamiji.
“ he is dr.joshi from…”

swamiji stared at dr.joshi and to his and all other’s surprise, stood up from his seat !
“arre joshi saheb tame?”he was none other than the young vibrant sadhu who used to escort dr.joshi in the car to shri yogiji maharaj!!

Nothing more is remaining to end the story!

CHAPTER EIGHTEENTH : THE FIRST ELECTION..

“I am to represent the oppressed, the least heard and the neglected ones. It is my humble duty to work for them and see that they are given equal importance and rights. You have many sophisticated people around you which forget simple ones. This never can be tolerated. We must rise to the occasion and do what is right. It is my humble request to vote keeping this in your mind….”- whom did you hear? Gandhi? Ambedkar? V.P. singh? Indira? Wrong! This was my best friend bimal chhaya! Obviously there was election of class representative (CR) and bimal was one of the contestants.

This was the first ever election in our batch. For interaction with the college authorities and the seniors, we badly needed a CR. The name was not the unanimous. So we opted for the election.

There was general agreement about the election officers – me and ketandada. We were given the responsibility to conduct the operation smoothly and honestly. The venue was the lecture hall.

Though bimal had huge support from anish, sandeep, hemani, girish, kamlesh, kapil and most of the boys from the old boys’ hostel, he lacked clear support from the girls’ hostel side. The opponent had good rapport with the girls. He also had advantage of general acceptance amongst the new hostel’s boys and the seniors. He was none other than jasmine shah.

“No election should go uncontested …and so I stand here in front of you.” Said bimal. Very true principally. He was very good friend of all of us and especially mine. He banked on our votes. On the other hand, jasmine shah was from our hostel and he too was a good friend.

“See I am not against bimal. But we have lived in the same hostel and at this moment it is my right to get support from you all friends.” Jasmine was clear in demanding our votes.

For me, on personal front, it was a great dilemma. Bimal was 100% sure of my support and it was difficult to not to vote for him. Jasmine was with me since days of ragging. He had very good organizing skills.


Jasmine was lucky enough to have almost full support from the girl’s of our class. He had great opportunity and skill to communicate with the girls while routine weekly traveling to Ahmedabad. He and tapasvi were known as kanhaiyas of our batch, as they were seen surrounded by gopis of our class in the train! They both could talk hours together with the girls sparking giggles! Bimal, though a good communicator, also a weekly traveler to Ahmedabad like jasmine, was probably seen as extra sincere man not fit for being popular figure amongst girls.

Some batch mate even created issue of dominance. “If we support bimal, the students from the old boys’ hostel would dominate us since bimal belongs to that hostel. Do you want this to happen?”

“Bimal has very good command on English. He can present our batch anywhere be it the college authority, seniors, juniors or outside the college.” A small point raised by some.

Just a day before the day of voting, jasmine came to our room.

“Neh, I know you are very close to bimal. But we belong to same hostel. Give me a promise that you will vote for me tomorrow. I really need your support.” He demanded clearly.

“He is right neh. The issues raised by bimal are not the real ones. He sees himself as a savior of the oppressed. That is not true.” Said tapasvi.

Few moments were very distressing for me. How would bimal feel? Deceived? Was it right to support bimal on hypothetical issues?
“So neh, what have you thought?” my thoughts were interrupted by jasmin’s query. He knew very well if I say yes to him that would be 100%.

“Ok.” I made up my mind. “I promise I will vote for you” very difficult decision.

Soon after this, bimal arrived to confirm my support.
“So man, you are to vote for me. Right?” he straightly asked me. For a moment, I had no answer. I could have given false reply or a political statement but I had to be truthful.

“Sorry bimal, just before a few minutes, I promised my vote to jasmine” said I fearing strong rejection from bimal.
To my surprise, he smiled a bit, did not utter a single word of dislike but said “but this is not going to come in way of our friendship…ok?”

How blessed I was to have such a wonderful friend as my buddy! Even when I clearly denied my support, he supported and nurtured our friendship.



As the day of election arrived, we all met in the lecture hall for voting.

I and ketan shah had prestigious duty of conducting the election smoothly and honestly. There were no any external observers of the process.

Bimal knew I was to vote against him.

The voting was smooth and as expected, jasmine shah was declared the winner and so he became our first CR. Savior was not saved….

CHAPTER SIXTEENTH :...BUT FRIENDS ARE FRIENDS!

…BUT FRIENDS ARE FRIENDS!

Though tapasvi and hemant were (and are) my best friends, sometimes I hesitated to put my ideas in front of them. I had fear of rejection. I never could withstand rejection of my ideas especially by near ones. After a few months of first MBBS, I had one spark of such an idea. I was not extrovert but was able to speak with my batch mates. To give reality to my idea, one day, without telling tapasvi and hemant, I went to the other boys’ hostel.

‘Whether would my batch mates welcome my idea? If they welcome my idea, how will I explain keeping aside tapasvi and hemant? What would I pursue to tapasvi and hemant if my idea falls out as a big fiasco? What if any highly intelligent friend directly rejects my idea? And what about girls? I did not have any `girlfriends. Who would convince them? Any way if my idea clicks then everyone in the class would remember for lifetime. So I should give myself a chance’. These were the thoughts storming my mind when I was on the way to the “nursing hostel” – the other boys’ hostel.

To put forward my idea, I met ketan dada, bimal, anish, pragnesh, vimal, chirag, charan, alpesh, dhabuwala, rasik, girish, sandeep, kapil, and other friends.

“Friends, ours is a big batch of 100. I was wondering since few days about whether we can get to gather in our lecture hall in the evening time. Every one from us can come to the stage and present something... May it be a song, a joke, a story, or we can have some discussion on some current topic. Some one can even deliver an academic lecture. We have a lot talented friends which already are able to storm the stage. But our purpose should be to give chance to those which never have performed on the stage. No one should be left out. This will not only help us boosting our confidence level in general but can also help us in presenting ourselves better in the exam vivas.” I told my friends in the nut shell.

“But what about microphone system and do we need to put some money to keep going?” some friends were skeptical.

“In my opinion, we do not need any money but we need ourselves and our will to keep going. We may ask dr nishith (our warden and Prof of physiology) to provide us the keys of the lecture hall after the college hrs” I suggested.

Surprisingly, nothing terrible happened. In fact it looked as if I stole everyone’s thought. My idea was welcome! Well, back at my hostel, I had to face the two terrible! As expected, since our campus was like a small village, tapasvi and hemant heard about my suggestion from the mess.

“Very unfair neh!” I was greeted with clear dislike on their face. “You say we are your best friends… you behave otherwise! We heard from some one that you are planning some kind of weekly meeting of the batch with the others… can’t you tell us first?”

“I should have... but I could not. I feared you both would reject my idea and would not let me present it to the other batch mates. So first I tried to get green signal from the others. I am sorry for my distorted perception about your support and reaction…” I tried to explain in best possible way. After much explanation and persuasion, I could possibly able to get them on my side.

Thus, soon, our meetings started – every Thursday. The deptt of physiology co operated fully. They gave us keys of the big lecture hall without any hesitation.

Our meetings lasted about an hour after the college hrs. There were many enthusiasts in our batch and initially there was no problem in getting the number of performers. We even repeatedly requested our ‘silent’ friends to come on the stage and present something in front of all.

I remember once beji bombarded a whole lecture on a topic of physiology! Probably that lecture was on physiology of pain, if I remember correctly. Girish had good collection of haiku. Anish used to be our announcer. Jasmine also used to do that job nicely. As our meetings became a regular event, it started getting popular. Even our seniors like GD and setu became our guests to encourage us. The remarkable thing about the show was neither did it consume a single penny from any one’s pocket nor we used any funds from the college. It was proved beyond doubt that our programme can go on without money.

Once upon a time, we could not get keys of the lecture hall. So we immediately decided to shift to the vast terrace of the PSMC. Bimal and jasmine were the announcers, if I remember correctly, and hemant presented some extra boring collection on news paper wedding ads!
Our meetings provided us a base to welcome our new junior batch ( Madhvi, vasundhara, sonia’s batch) in a unique way. I need to write a separate story for that interesting event. Also, election of our 1st CR was done in our meeting without any regulatory authority from the college.

Sometimes the meeting had very hot discussions. I remember a discussion on the topic of killing frogs for routine experiment in the deptt of physiology. Every one expressed their views against such killings, but pragnesh had to say something else and just after his speech, the meeting boiled like a volcano! Kapil and friends became very furious and wrote slogans on the walls of the deptt of physiology. (More at :)

The meetings provided a good base for all of us to interact. Once bimal said “Neh, if these meetings become regular campus activity, we will pass this tradition on to our junior batches. Our batch would be remembered as the pioneer of these meetings forever.”

But that dream was never to come true. As the time passed, stage became monotonous. Those which loved to perform performed always and the shy ones remained shy. Despite our forceful efforts to get them on the stage, they never turned up! Secondly, some students started their groups and so most of them became least interested in the class meetings. We lost the initial charm eventually.

But this was not the logical end of the meetings.




So a time came when tapasvi and hemant had something harsh to say.

“Neh, we meet every week but have you ever thought whether you people could do anything which you claimed to do at the beginning? We do not see any simple student on the stage!” hemant was truthful but his words were sharp enough to be painful.

“See, hemant, we tried our best to do that. You know this very well. We are successful to an extent. I agree it is not the way we wished. But if the silent students do not come on the stage, even after repeated requests, what can be done?” I had nothing more to say.

“Nothing! But you all failed! That is the truth…”

“Yes ... hemant is right. There are only a few students which come to stage and these meetings are only for them!” tapasvi also supported hemant. “We have decided to raise this issue in the very next meeting...”

Both of my best friends were against me. However, many others were on my side. Before the next meeting, everyone was informed about special presentation by hemant and tapasvi.

I do not remember much about the last meeting, but hemant stood up and started speaking and then there was chaos! That was the end.

CHAPTER NINE:COLLEGE BAPTISM !

BAPTISM


Switzerland was the name given to our campus not only because it was beautiful , but also it was like a small Island away and almost cut off from the main land. the campus was sorrounded by farms and villages. When we entered the college, there were only three more student batches in the campus. Our campus thus was a small village. whether you like or dislike,any Campus buzz used to spread like fire in no time!

For entertainment, there was nothing nearby. There was one open air theatre, especially for people of nearby villages, at karamsad which used to show typical gujarati films. Good theatres were at anand, about 8kms away from our campus.

I and tapasvi both never liked hindi masala movies. But when college friends ask you to join, it is really difficult to resist.

On one fine evening after the sunset, I and tapasvi decided to join other friends on their way to anand to a movie theatre. There was some action movie somewhat of our taste. As we went to the gate of our shri Krishna hospital, we found our friends jumping in a big truck of amul dairy!

“hey ! what are you doing? Can’t we get any rikshaw?” one of my friends asked the other.
“forget it! Just get in!”

It was a big tata truck full of milk canes. We all climbed rapidly onto back of the truck to discover a new way of transport! Truck started. The noice of the engine was hardly heard at the back. We felt like flying on alladin’s carpet! We were free to walk on the milk canes. It was about 20min journey. The charges were cheaper too. We reached our destination soon.

After this ride, to go for a movie became triple enjoyment for us: ride the truck, watch the movie and forget the vivas and texts back at campus.

On one such ride, I remember, I sat On the top of the driver’s cabin. It was winter and the air was so cool that I developed numbness and tingling on all of my face.
There was never any bad accident, as far as I remember, with any one only because of sheer good luck. However, One of my classmate jani had fracture femur while traveling sitting aside the rikshaw driver.

One day, I and tapasvi were bored enough and we desided to go to anand for a good action English movie. To choose the movie, we were asking our friends their reviews. Because when you spend money for entertainment, you ought to get full return!

“planning to go to a movie?” suddenly a voice interrupted us. the voice was of a famous figure from our senior batch (mail me and I will tell you the name!).

“yes…we want to see a good action movie..” we revealed our choice.
“ hmmmm….” Taking his fingers close to his chin, in his typical style, he gave a thought to our choice. “Why don’t you choose sirocco today?” he suggested ultimately.
“ Is it a good action movie?” we wanted to confirm
“ oh sure. Marvelous.” He gave final assurance.

We both took joy ride from the main gate and reached the theatre in hope of entertaining ourselves with a good action movie.
As soon as we entered the main gate of the theatre, we saw stunning hoarding of the movie.

“ Loook tapasvi this isn’t any action movie…it appears an adult movie.” I exclaimed to tapasvi as we never had seen such thing in our lives! For a moment, we stared each other probably waiting for the other to say ‘let us go back’. But it did not happen! Probably in back of our minds we were searching justification to go in the theatre to see the unseen and the forbidden. few second passed.

“ we have come this far…we can not go back.” Tapasvi had the courage to follow the instinct. we went to box office with beating heart. Both of us constantly looked around fearing some known persons noticing us.

This was very first time we saw such a movie!

chapter seventeenth :WE DID START THE FIRE......!

WE DID START THE FIRE

“Groupism” was a word that triggered feeling of dislike in general amongst most of us. But as the time passed, students of our batch started recognizing other students of their match. Formation of formal and informal groups started. Some groups were based on native place; some were based on like mindedness, while some were based on economical status.

Since bimal believed in equality of all human beings, he was heavily against formation of any group and he had very strong feelings against any "groupism". He was a strong critic of group celebration of events like bithdays. So his was a kind of “no group” group!

Principally, it sounded good to believe in equality and no group theory. But on long run, groups were inevitable like anywhere in society. Not only it gave sense of belonging but also it gave social security and educational support in some cases.

So within a few months, our batch subdivided in small groups.

One group was of students from north Gujarat consisting of sandeep, paresh and friends. That was one of the most mischievous groups. Other one was of students from saurashtra consisting ketan, vimal, kapil, vivek and friends. Then we had biju, samir, pragnesh, ketam dhabu’s group. Kintur, sanjay, saddam (sorry for forgetting true name of the good friend!) and friends formed another powerful group.

As far as girls were concerned I remember ripal -jayashree and friend’s group; kama and nilam’s group; jasmine anu beji’s group; nilpa-zarna’s group.

We, I and tapasvi, were probably in “no group” group! However, hemant, tapasvi and I became very close friends soon and ours was informal group.

Thus almost all got settled after initial few months.

One day kapil came to us and suggested “friends let us celebrate 31 dec!” It was a welcome idea. Everyone agreed. The venue of the party was the old boys’ hostel that was actually a nursing hostel previously. All were invited to the boys’ hostel including the girls!

Kapil, vimal, bimal, anis, bau, sandeep, paresh, mines, ketens etc all friends really worked hard to make the event memorable.

They did not have any fund for decoration. I still remember the boys used their table lamps to create lighting effects. I really can not say why they looked so gorgeous. The glamour of the first party of our batch was in our hearts and minds, I guess.
That night of 31 dec was cool and chilling. we needed sweaters. The enthusiasm of the party was in full swing. Table lamps were fitted on the windows of the rooms of the round hostel giving a very special hue to the party.

Boys from the other hostel, including me , hemant, biren and tapasvi reached early. When everything was ready, our special guests arrived—girls of our batch!! They walked in the boys’ hostel like little brook with all the beauty but minimal sound….

Anish was the uncontested anchor of our batch and so was jasmine! Soon the party started. First, there was presentation from the students. I was an average stage performer and this was very first time when I decided to speak in front of whole of my batch. Naturally I was a bit nervous and my heart rates were high. Despite low temperature of the atmosphere, I was sweating. Soon, anish announced my name and I stood up gadhering all the courage I had! I presented a comedy poem written by me “darling baarmi pass chhu” . The poem compared a girl with scientific gujarati terminology jargon of 12th std's various subjects. I remember only a line “wal lolak jewi tari chaal chhe!” but jasmine has contributed following from her robust memory…

Darling, baarmi pass chhu….

Mithiline blue jewo tari ankho no rang chhe’
Pan hay! Sathe sefrinine jewo gusso pan sang chhe!

Hay mari jau aa kasherukao ne mekhlao(sanskrut name for spine, shoulder and pelvic girdles) par,
Wal lolak jewo taro chalwano dhang chhe!

Shunya watawaran na dabane ne 25 ansh tanpane,
Sodium ne pani ni prakriya sho aapno aarambh chhe…(when water and sodium are mixed at room temparatue and at normal atmospheric pressure,their chemical process gives blast!)


My poem was hit. (or still i wish to believe that!).

Kamlesh had hidden skill of break dance.he gave superb performance.
Many other students gave their performance. but I really do not remember at this moment.[can any one add ?]But the item that swept our hearts was a song by vivek jagat vimal pragnesh and friends… “we didn't start the fire…!” ( the photo is recently uploaded by jayshree on facebook). We all were moved by the rhythm and words of the song. It really touched our hearts.

Sharp at 12night lights were turned off to mark arrival of the new year. Spell of darkness mesmerized all of us. The new year at last arrived. Immediately after a few minutes lights were on. Few students danced….but most of us were just observers, like me.That was because such type of party, especially of new year was a complete new experience for most of us.The black out for a while at mid night was unknown experience for a pure gujju student like me. However girls made themselves safe knowingly or unknowingly, by gathering in their bunch closely, as clock approached 12.yet, I am sure that black out must be exciting for all by just knowing presence of girls in vicinity, at midnight, in total black out.Except for twinkling presence stars above…



The party was a milestone for our batch. The photo of “we did” was said to be hottest one to be sold after the party both amongst the boys and the girls. (There were no girls in the group that sung “we did” but still many girls bought the photo. There was rumor that many girls had their dream boy in the photo!)


detail info on the song... http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/We_Didn%27t_Start_the_Fire

you can play the real song by billy from above link

CHAPTER FIFTEENTH :JUMMA…..WHO WAS HE?

(followin chapter is written after full permission of concern party. With full respect to jumma...)

JUMMA…..WHO WAS HE?


“oh boy! What are you doing?” you have no choice but to exclaim when you suddenly see something unusual.

“Can't you see? I am waving my shirt towards the girls’ hostel!” said the boy continuing his unusual activity. He had stripped off the shirt and was waving it standing in front of the girls’ hostel .
“but why are you doing this? there is no point to be half naked early morning in front of girls’ hostel.”

“abe yaar, my friends challenged me. They said no one have guts to do this in front of the girls' hostel. they say It can ruin the impression on girls. I told them I can do this…hell with the impression. Ha…..ha…ha…!” he gave laud winning laugh.
Really, any one in 1st MBBS would be very conscious for his impression on girls. One would do anything beyond his usual behavior just to “impress”. But this boy was different than others in our class. He was not at all concerned about his impression on girls.

Most of the boys, however, had only few ways to impress. Such ways routinely included a clean shave, tidy good clothes and soft low tone speech with the fair sex. Some of the boys used sprays and powders to get rid of their own body odors. There were no mobiles to impress. It was era of bikes but only few fathers could afford such luxury for their son. So, only a few boys had bike at that time. Some boys were really over conscious and sometimes imparted their knowledge of “how to” to poor fellows like me. It included not only how to dress, do in-shirt, how to speak and not to speak but also how to walk! I really was not able to follow any of their instructions.

But there were so called bajarang groups which not only kept distance from girls but also kept away from boys inter mingling with girls groups. Few boys were pitiable as they were forced to be bajarang groupers may be due to some personal reasons.

However, I must admit, the boy I am talking about was not at all bajarang. In fact, he had very good skill of communicating with girls. When few girls asked him about his unusual waving of shirt , he proudly told them how he won the bet!

The boy had joined the college late as he was given admission after re shuffle. He was a fair, bit small in height, with a pointed nose some what fatty and looked short in front of some of the tall girls of our batch. He used to dress himself fairily well but he had habit of scratching his head now and then on different issues and problems so his blond hairs were never set well. When some one commented “ yaar why don’t you keep your hairs fine at place? It is only your hairs that spoil your tidy looks.”

“ Man, think of a dining table in perfect shape. Think of flowers perfectly in middle of table. Now some one comes and throws the flowers disturbing the perfect tidiness of the table…now tell me..which table will look beautiful…the perfect tidy or the table with flowers thrown?...” He smiled “same is true with my un tidy hairs..!”

His spects were big covering most of his face and his eyes looked bigger behind the plus lenses of his spects. He was gifted a loud speaker instead of voice box by nature. His pitch was also very different than all of the boys. When he passed by the girls’ hostel, he was clearly heard even at the rooms on top floor.
Some girls used to comment “ this boy’s mother would really be a blessed one.”
“ Why?”
“ aarre she never would worry for whereabouts of his son. She could hear him even from a kilometer while her small son was playing!”
He was also a nagar by caste like me. As he joined late he was made our dissection partner. We soon became good friends.we shared many common interests like gazals- he was a mad fan of jagjeet singh while i was fan of gulam ali and ahemad hussain mohmad hussain. I had (and still have) great respect for mahatma and he also had the same. Being nagar was somewhat special for him and that was a point to tease my best friend-tapasvi- a darbar.

“ tapasveeee…listen… I am nagar and neh is also nagar, thus we ought to be good friends. Do you know tapasvi? We Nagars are inborn intelligent people!” to this tapasvi would reply with lot of dislike on his face “ Do you know? You are originally greeks. Alexander abandoned you in India. - Useless leftovers! You all should be sent back to Greece so that we original Indians live in peace!”

But this was only to tease tapasvi. In principal he believed all humans equal and so he never kept distance from any one in the college. He spoke with all and soon became a popular figure in class. He used to speak any thing and used to do many mischievous acts to entertain his friends.

He had good command on spoken English. Many a times, I used to imitate a reporter using my hand as microphone to ask questions on various subjects to him. To my query, he would give a big lecture in American English imitating himself as a big world leader! Not surprisingly the 1st fishpond awarded to both of us was "class na Buddhao (aged and older people)"

He used to get depressed in small matters. "buddhao" was such a thing.

" Be yaar neh , since we don't talk rubbish and behave maturely, some one has written such word to show his or her envy...don't you think so?" at such times he had typical whinning voice.

On the dissection table, I used to try to dissect even very small structures. To this he would make a serious face and would say “ neh , I will come to your funeral and will tell everyone there that this doctor was a very sincere man. He has seen even minute nerves of the superficial skin!!...ha….ha…..ha…!”

Despite his popular acts, he was very sincere in studies. His handwriting was beautiful. He used to make good notes not only in class lectures but also in hostel while reading. He used to study a lot and so he soon became ranker of our class. There were students who used to hide their “precious" notes from others even in routine times so that no one could get advantage of their hard work except themselves. But this was not true with this boy. He believed in healthy competition, He would give best of his notes even if you demand it just before exams . Not only that, if you ask him to teach anything, he would try his best until you are satisfied.

Despite being genuinely honest , there was one paradox in his behavior. He was from ahmedabad and it was routine for him like many other students to rush to home every Saturday. He would board the train at anand railway station but would never buy a ticket! Like many of my friends, to travel WT was a kind of thrill for him. He was caught for a couple of times and had to pay the penalty!

He had very clear idea about love and marriage. While many boys were dying to “fix” themselves with the girl of their choice, he was not at all interested in such activity. There were a few couples in our campus.

“ see neh, To fall in love is real childish and immature act. No one should do this while studying. This can ruin life of both.” On query of his ideas on marriage he would proudly say “ Just Think of delight and joy of a nagar successful man in his 60s getting a qualified doctor as a groom for his beautiful daughter … Nagar boys should not waste themselves in out caste. I will never do that…”

A song “ jumma chumma de de” was very popular at that time and he also liked that song very much. He used to sing that song kakophonically in hostel and in college as much as some of his friends started calling him “jumma” !

One day he came to me with mystery on his face. He seemed in a graet problem. There was a post card in his hand.
“ Neh , can you believe this?” he gave me the card.

Some one had written “ dear jumma how are you? I am one of your old school mate and I really miss you --your old girl friend”

the letter was addressed to “jumma” with his room number and surname!

“ Really surprising!” I exclaimed “ Now popularity of your nick name has crossed the walls of our campus!”

“ Neh , firstly I have churned my brain but I do not remember any such girl friend of mine in school days who would write such letter. Secondly, who would have told her my campus nick name? can you think any thing?”

“ Look …the stamp on the card is of anand only. So some one has posted this letter at anand post office. Can you remember any such girl?” I investigated further.

He typically scratched his head. “ I really do not remember…”

“Think on this dear friend! Ask your old school mates . they might give you a clue…”
I adviced. The card was written with green scetch pen.

As usual the letter became talk of our small town. The boy never kept anything secret. Not even such personal letters. He showed the letter to all the friends and tried to solve the mystery. His frantic efforts lasted for about a week but all in vain. There was not a clue at all.

When he was tired of the issue , one day I told him “ yaar the letter you are investigating was written by me.”
“you!!” he was shocked “ I never can believe such a good friend of mine can fool me like this! I refuse to believe this..”

“ This is the truth . I sincerely apologize with my confession…” I told him how alone I hatched the plan to fool him. I also showed the secret marks on the post card made by me.

His face was serious. “okay..” he took a deep breath. He was really hurt. I looked to his eyes . I really went a bit more than needed. I should have told him the truth when he came to me very first time.

He thought for a while. “ any way neh… i forgive you….but I really felt betrayed…”


As he said, he really did forgive me and our friendship remained the same even after this incident. There were few more such acts by me even after this incident but he has forgiven me everytime….

CHAPTER FOURTEENTH:JASMIN SHAH

JASMIN SHAH

During our initial time of ragging and adjustment, jasmine shah was our natural partner as he lived in our hostel like only a few others from our batch. No doubt, stress makes relation stronger in short time-thus our friendship grew within no time. Jasmine was frank, witty and practical. Also, he had all qualities of an amdavadi. We used to go to buy things from karamsad and anand together.

Jasmine and tapasvi puwar, my best friend, had a few things common. Both were from amdavad, both used to rush to home on Saturdays, and both had distinct skill to communicate with girls! To other’s envy, both were seen surrounded by girls at college and at their routine journey to amdavad.

However, tapasvi had a typical rajpoot-ek ghaaa ne be katkaa- temperament while jasmine was a real baniya.

On one fine evening, when tapasvi had just sat down to start his dinner, jasmine came.

“Hi tapasvi!” he looked in witty mood. “Hey yaar, I wanted to make a serious suggestion for you…”

Not interested in any kind of joke, tapasvi plainly asked “what?”

“What if I call you by name puwarbhai ? he..he..he..” jasmine laughed on his own words.
“What did you say?” tapasvi’s voice and eyes changed.

Jasmine could not recognize that change of tone perhaps.

“I said tapasvi is a bit plain name without any note of respect. Don’t you think puwarbhai is a better name for you?” jasmine liked to tease tapasvi.

“I say stop this nonsense.”warned tapasvi

“Or what ? puwarbhai? All girls would love this name!!”

Next moment, tapasvi took his tiffin full of shaak daal and –wow- unexpectedly threw it towards jasmine!! Somehow jasmine was able to save him from that sudden attack. Sensing high temperature of tapasvi, jasmine ran away from the scene. After this incident,He never suggested ‘puwarbhai’ for tapasvi again….!

The throw of full tiffin made a permanent mark on wall of our hostel room no 19. The mark was seen till we completed our internship! But this incident had never any permanent effect on jasmine and tapasvi’s relations.


Jasmine was not happy with the fact that there was one girl in class having similar name. Whenever we needed to write his name, he insisted on us to spell his name as
J A S M I N and not jasmin E!

“Neh, can you please come to my room?” One evening after the college hours jasmine requested. “ I have a small problem and no one but you can help me solving that” he flattered me. Accepting the appraisal swiftly, I walked behind him to his room.

“ I have a difficulty in one question of physiology.” I liked physiology as a subject the most and I used to ask and answer a lot (maybe right or wrong!) in the physiology class of dr mazoomdar. The subject was quite near to my first love- physics. As I entered, I noticed jasmine’s room was full of my other friends and they all looked curious to our activity. I felt the question must be such that no one from them could solve them and so I - dr neh- was called to give the final answer!

“What is the issue?” taking gyton, our heavy textbook of physiology in hand from jasmine, I inquired.
“Can you read this line?” jasmine made me sit on a chair with those words.

----dhaff!! I was on the floor with the book in my hand and the broken chair on me! From subject expert, I was suddenly reduced to a subject of a practical joke! Everybody laughed.

“neh today we made so many fools sit on this chair and fall. Every one was tricked here asking them different things. We could not think any plan to get you on this chair. So finally I thought your love for physio and a bit of flattering words could work….and it worked very well..!” explained jasmine.

CHAPTER TEN:THE MESSY MESS

THE MESSY MESS AND EATING GAMES

May I ask you a direct question? What is importance of taste and flavors in your life? Have you ever lived at least 15 days without food of your choice? I guess, like me, most of us think we can greatly compromise on taste of food and live. It is not a big deal. One has to eat to live and not live to eat…huh?

Take a challenge. Come to our student mess and eat for a couple of days only, I mean, go to any student mess run by contract system and then look in your mind. Definitely you would find a great change!

In the new class room of the college, students had to face stresses of medical studies with hell of vivas and exams now and then, out side the classes there were challenges of living alone in the hostel making new friends, and when their stomach demanded fuel to take on the world with all such problems, the students had to face one more challenge-the special food of student mess!

The mess was, none the less, one of the great places for student interaction. You would get all kind of campus news and gossips there. The activity would start daily in morning with breakfast and tea. However, I hardly went to the mess in the morning for that luxury as I belonged to a group of rare human variety which hated even smell of the tea! The activity was highest in the 10pm night tea party. (I have heard a lot about 10pm tea but I never had been there, so I expect others to comment on that.)

After a session of torture of lectures we were set free to fill the stomach in the afternoon at about 2pm. The time was such, function of our brains were taken up by hungry stomach. Even if you blind fold our eyes, urge from stomach would take us directly to the mess building. The building was situated between nursing hostel and the old boys’ hostel.

Mostly we were greeted there by raju bhai, the mess contractor. There were enough tables and seats but sometimes we had to wait for the turn. The service was usually prompt. The servants there were uniformly ugly. But eyes did not see that when stomach demanded its due.There were many servants but rameshbhai was perhaps most popular as he was very fast in serving rotis. One would hear ‘e ramesh….e rameshbhai…’etc as soon as one entered the mess. The kitchen was a ‘sacred’ area and no one was allowed there.

The menu was usually same. We were served roti, rice, gujarati daal (with jaggery) Punjabi daal(same as gujarati but without jaggery) onion salad, papad , sabjee of potatoes called sooki bhaaji and buttermilk. Even though each item had its own negative merit, roti was standing out more on negative side. It was made in such way and such a flour; it needed both of our hands to tear it off. I wonder weather it would have been easier if we tried to use the bone cutter to cut and tear the roti! Moreover, it was smeared with a kind of sticky oil they claimed it to be ghee. After anatomy practical class, one needed to rub off the formalin in order to eat and after eating one had to wash off the pungent oil- so called ghee!

Wednesday and Sunday were special for mess. On Wednesday we were served bits of apples, few grapes and bits of banana in milk containing probably 50% of water, making a special dish called fruit salad. Sundays were the days for feast. Our friends from nearby cities would flee to their home, leaving us alone to enjoy the feast. Apart from deep fried and oil soaked items, we were served sweet dish of gulab jamun on Sundays. Some of the students were having voracious appetite and they would challenge each other with number of gulabjamuns they eat. Since my stomach could hardly bear 5-7 gulab jamuns, I really envied those students which had capacity to eat and digest 70-80 gulab jamuns! (Some one can tell me the highest record of gulabjamun eating competition!) However, I could take good amount of routine food in those days and my good friend bimal used to say “Abe e macrophage (A kind of big whit cell having great capacity to eat micro organisms) …now its enough! Get up and wash your hands!”


All the messes, including ours and those at vallabh vidya nagar, as a general rule, were remaining closed on Sunday evening, giving us compulsory chance of eating outside. Karamsad was not much developed when we were there. We had to go to vallbh vidya nagar or anand on Sunday evenings to fill the stomach. Apart from dhabas and gallas, there were only two good hotels in vvn- avre and avkool.

We gujaratis are world’s most fanatic vegetarians. I also am such. We would not eat even cakes and pastries containing egg! We would not like to kill any animal for our food but we might sacrifice ourselves on the dining table eating oil rich dishes! Gujarati jains and swaminaraniyans would not take onions and garlic even. However, in theory, I never ever had opposition for non vegetarians, since I believed all lives equal be it veg or non veg.

Most of my friends were veg., however, samir was a non vegetarian. He usually would go to his home every week like other amdavadis. But one Sunday, due to some reason the stayed back with us. We both went to karamsad that evening to eat something from laari-gallas there. He chose to eat non veg.

The laaris were situated on the highway connecting karamsad anand and vvn. He chose one cheap laari selling non veg stuff, just for fun. As we sat down on the table, samir ordered an item. I did not know what it was, but within minutes, it was ready. This was very first time in my life I saw some nonveg stuff. The place was fairly unhygienic and there was typical non veg smell in the atmosphere irritating my pure vegetarian nose. As I saw the dish, a fresh medical student living in me recognized few of the anatomical structures in it.
“Hey samir, let us play a game.” I proposed.
“What game?”
“You go on eating and I will give commentary on what you are eating.”
“But what game?” He said.
“Despite hearing my commentary, you should not stop eating…whatever kind of ugly words I use.” I explained the single rule.
“Ok” he smiled and agreed and picked up the first morsel. “this is easy man!”

“Now... Samir starts eating...” I initiated my running commentary. “ He picks up one bone that looks like a part of thoracic rib…he looks at the lower groove from where the neuro vascular bundle passes….he takes it in his mouth and sucks the bone marrow of the rib…is that tasty?”

Giving me smiles in between, samir was enjoying my commentary and the food.

“Samir now picks up a muscle bundle… separates the fibers … and they are gone in his wide open mouth. He also takes now the blood admixed with spices with the spoon.”

Samir was a jolly guy and he had a great sense of humor.

“There is some round small globe like object in his spoon…he looks at it to decide from where to eat. It has a cord like structure attached… he picks it up from the cord….takes it to his mouth…. The structure is difficult to identify… perhaps it is a testicle with a cord attached to it...”

“What?” My last words had immediate effect on samir. He took his hand swiftly away from his mouth in lightning speed. He stared at the stuff for a moment.

“Oh yaar, it really seems one!” he threw the part back in the dish.
“I genuinely feel so.” I gave my honest opinion.
“Neh, I am feeling nausea.” He stood up very next moment. “I may vomit…let us go...”

The game was over.

CHAPTER ELEVEN :KILLING SCIENCE: WE, THE WHISTLE BLOWERS

KILLING SCIENCE: WE, THE WHISTLE BLOWERS

While practical classes of anatomy were full of excitement initially, practical classes of physiology were much like our 12th standard laboratory classes. Our physiology laboratory initially was in the old college building.

We were, in the beginning, taught usual blood counts, how to recognize different cells in the blood in microscope and principles behind such tests.

All this was done manually. But from where did the blood sample come? Naturally we had to do the tests on our own blood! This was a bit painful procedure.

“Today, we are to perform total white cell count. We will tell you how many micro liters of blood are needed, how to see them under the microscope and how to count the white cells. But first of all, you ask your friend to get your blood sample from your ring finger.” Looking at our herd, our tutor announced.

They made such a big college. Could not they arrange a few blood samples for the tests? Oh man, thought of getting pricked was painful. But there was no escape. Kamlesh,one of the thinnest boy of our class was my partner in first practical in physio lab.

as we sat down to our table, kamlesh took the lancet. i unwillingly extended my hand. he looked at my hand for a moment and then got strong hold of my ring finger. I looked helplessly to him. He smiled. Though kamlesh was very lean and thin, he looked like demon to me at that moment! Ouch! He gave a nice deep merciless prick to tip of my ring finger. Was it really that painful? probably my pre conceived fear made me feel enhanced pain. i could not say. Tip of my finger became red with blood. I felt as if kamlesh got the blood deep down from my bone! I could count my heartbeats at the pricked tip of finger due to pain. (Though, this was not the part of practical learning!) I picked the pipette and draw required blood in it.

Same event was probably repeated at each table. Some boys rendered such ‘gentle’ services to girls. Pragnesh was notoriously very well known for this.

the pain ful experience was worth because It was really amazing to see one’s own white cells under the microscope. I really forgot the prick. i saw my own amazing cells. the world under the microscope was very exciting.

When the main new building of our college was ready, like other departments, the physio deptt soon was shifted to the new building. We had luxury of two labs there. One was for human physiology and the other was an animal experiment lab. the animal lab was mainly used to show us practical physiology on frogs.

In our 12th class also we were forced to study live frogs. That was really very cruel. The frogs were dumped in chloroform and were cut open inhumanely to study and finally they were left to die. Students were supposed to see the different live systems of the dying poor creature. I really still do not understand the logic of doing such a cruel exercise in name of science. Honestly, those lab experiments neither contributed to increase my knowledge of biology nor they helped in slightest way to understand human machinery. But that was in the syllabus. We had to do that.

Here in physiology, such experiments went a step further. The deptt had a separately maintained animal house outside the college. Different types of animals were kept there to be slaughtered in name of research and science.

Since chloroform had bad effect on nervous system, the frogs were required to be ‘pithed’, keeping their nervous system intact for study. Can you guess how cruel the procedure was? Prof harsoda used to do that. He would hold a live frog in his left hand firmly and then would take an instrument that looked like ice cutter in right hand. The sharp point was pushed between the eyes of the frog and then the instrument was rotated destructing the connection of brain with the spinal cord, keeping the poor animal ‘intact’ for study. Just compare this with the fear of small prick we humans fear usually!

To bear this all, one had to cut off one’s sensory system from the brain, i mean, one needs to be totally insensitive and inhuman. NO one could see such cruelty except under fear of exam!

There was one experiment to show us normal heart activity and effects of different drugs on heart muscle. We had to cut open the thorax of the frog, insert a pointed hook at the tip of the frog’s beating heart and then to attach that hook to a drum assembly to take a graph.

There was a special place, a smoking zone, in the lab where special papers were given smoke so that a graph could be recorded on them. I felt such obsolete experiments required more such 18th century technique for recording graph.

Apart from mercilessly killing the frog, we were not required to handle other animals.
(Not mentioning some of the teachers!). I do not remember any of my classmates enjoying such experiments. Almost all of us hated cruelty on frogs.when i saw this very first time, i really felt deep pain through my heart. i could not stand in front of the tutor demonstrating our batch so i left the lab and went to the chamber of the head of the department of physiology. Dr. Mazoomdar was in his chair.

"may i come in sir?" I asked in low voice.
"yess. Khomme in" sir replied in his deep typical voice." yess neha, why do you appear so disturbed?"

my face was perhaps enough gloomy to be read.

"Sir...I wanted to ask.." I was squeezing all my strength to speak up. i paused.

"Ask what?" Sir had to speak after 10 seconds pause.

"Sir.. can't we stop killing frogs?" At last i was able to speak.

Sir looked in my eyes and probably read them well.

"See neha, this is part of your physiology learning. In any science, no one can believe whatever is written in books. One has to see that all directly, keenly observe it and most importantly re prove it... So here you see whatever is written in your physiology textbook...you understand?" sir was really sympathetic and truthful on his side.

"Sir but many facts are established since decades now. Till how long we need to repeat and reprove and reprove again?" i had my own argument.

Sir smiled " Might be some student may find something new from these experiments some day and may change our understanding of old facts.." He explained the ideal certificate to kill the frogs and other animals mercilessly in as humane voice as possible.

I wanted to ask how may students in his career did he see which revealed something new in his MBBS practical killer classes. But there was no point in argument.

" Any way neha...you go to hostel and rest well" Looking at my bitter face ,sir ultimately suggested.

i do not remember what i did on that day but Some of my friends became very sensitive to the issue. I remember, especially kapil, vimal, vivek, jayesh, were really furious on this issue. They explained their feelings to the whole batch. We were further disturbed by the fact told by a servant in the physio deptt. He told our HOD of physio deptt wanted him to catch dogs of our campus so that experiments could be carried out personally by the HOD.

So, our batch decided to boycott the practical classes. This movement lasted for a few weeks. Some of the students of our batch, as I remember, wrote slogans on pillars of the physio deptt expressing their anger on the cruelty.

I do not remember whether we were successful in stopping such practical but I do not remember giving exams of similar practical.

Afterwards, as we all know, because of efforts of maneka Gandhi, such experiments were stopped all over the India. Our batch tried to do the same long before maneka Gandhi did!

(I would be glad if any one can add to this event)

CH 21 :SECRETS OF BOYS’ HOSTEL : TIFFIN BOMB ?

SECRETS OF BOYS’ HOSTEL : TIFFIN BOMB ?


Bhargav, my classmate and lobby partner was very witty and he had a lot of sense of humor. After the college, we used to have routine discussions on many topics. Bhargav told us many jokes and one liner.

“You know Neh, any movement on this earth by any creature is because of one of the three main reasons- fear, food and female.” Standing at my room’s door, as he used to, bhargav revealed one of the basic rules of nature.

“Yes bhargav! You are right. But every creature ultimately needs female!” added biren.

“No yaar, all three what bhargav said are basic motive and you can not compare them” tapasvi was clear about his idea.

“See man, As far as we are concerned, we fools study because of fear of failure which might deprive us from getting food and probably also might starve us from female in future! So ultimately- damn female!” biren was some times unbeatable in argument.

Think of a situation when you see all your friends in other branches enjoying their college days bunking almost every lecture, enjoying films now and then and have a lot of time to spend for chit chat. At the similar times you, carrying load of books in big bag on your back, are every week trying to get through hell of vivas and exams. Karamsad was a kind of a lonesome place because it was a village and was away from city. Even if one wished to entertain oneself with routine collegian stuff, there were no such facilities nearby. Still, there was an open air theatre ‘jalaram’ mostly showing cheap gujarati movies and a few tea-pakoda cabins outside the collage gate. So arguments, counter arguments and discussions were big part of our daily entertainment programme.

There was no escape from this situation at least for students like me as my home was far away from karamsad. However, my friends from ahmedabad and baroda had great escape every week. That movement to home also had a component of food and female.

On Saturdays ,you would find most of the students going to the college with big bags on their back carrying clothes to get washed, empty dabbas to be refilled with home made food(breakfast), and books perhaps to read (which never happened at home for most of the boys!).
Females, well, were the extra attraction at journey. It was nice time for the boys and girls to interact in the train. Like my room mate tapasvi and lobby partner jasmine shah, many of my friends were seen surrounded by gopis in the train. Still, there were many ‘left outs’ from having such luxury. Some of them had better ideas. They used to sit on the top berth of the train compartment, making sure to watch ‘birds’ from the height ensuring their eyes to reach unreachable places.

The students would sprint back to PSMC on Monday. They would come rushing, throw their bags in the hostel room and would run to the college. But Mondays were also special for other reason. Most of the students would bring breakfast from home, given in enough amounts so that they can use it for the whole week. However the tasty items from home hardly lasted a day or two. This was because the items were shared with all others.
No one ever taught us ‘sharing is caring’ but it was very natural for all the students. Amdavadi and barodian students perhaps contributed greatest to this tradition as they went home almost every weekend, negating very much ‘amdavadi haramjaadi’! For this reason, hardly any one’s cupboard was left out with any stuff within couple of days. Even lobby partners were called to taste any new items from home.

However, there were exceptions. One chap in nursing hostel [the temporary boys’ hostel in our time] was very clear about his policy. He straight forward used to say, ‘my mother has sent all this for the week and she said not to share this with any one’. Accordingly he used to push his head in his cupboard daily morning so that he could enjoy it all alone for the whole week! His partners, stunned at his behavior initially, gradually accepted that.

Related to food, the following story was told to me by others in the hostel of PSMC. It was claimed true but I can not claim the same. Obviously, I have changed the true names of the said real characters. However apart from the presentation, the said facts are kept as they were told to me...So I start with following scene…


“Hello friend! Welcome back to hostel...” Jagesh was greeted as he returned from home after a few days leave

Jagesh, busy in arranging his luggage back to his cupboard, simply nodded yes.

“Guys, I also have returned today from home. My mother has sent nice home made kachori, ganthia and laddus for all of us. Come here! Join us Jagesh!” Jagesh’s room mate maheep invited jagesh.

“Tasty! May I get one more kachori?” Balu, third room partner, eating with Jagesh admired “you can have surti items from my bag. Get them out.” He added.

This was usual scene anywhere in the hostel. But for jagesh, the sharing was unilateral phenomenon.


“What have you brought Jagesh?” sniffing something tasty, maheep was eager.
“Nothing guys! It was difficult to bring any thing from that far.” joining the laddu party after arranging his luggage, Jagesh negated.

“Tell us man! We saw you eating something from your cupboard last time you returned from your home! You gave the same today’s answer that day also. Is it that you dislike to share?” Balu had a sneaking suspicion. His observation was substantiated my many other lobby partners too. And that was repeated every time whenever Jagesh returned from his home.

“Oh! Not at all, why should I behave like that? You both are my fast friends.” chewing kachori, Jagesh explained in muffling voice.

“May we check you cupboard?” now maheep became intrusive.
“No no! No need. There are only clothes and books. Don’t you believe me?” Jagesh said as he completed the last laddu.

“Ok we believe you.” And soon the party was over.

Jagesh went to bathroom.

“Maheep let us do something for this liar. It would have been fair on his part if he told us the truth .but I feel, this guy is simply a liar” Balu was sure about the smell from Jagesh’s luggage.
“But how can we screw him?” maheep scratched his head.
Balu thought for a while.

“Yes! I have an idea…listen …” and thus a plan was hatched. To jagesh’s great misfortune, balu was one of the greatest mischief makers of their batch.
That day, when Jagesh went to library, a green signal was given not only to maheep but also to some of the lobby partners.

“Come on guys! Break open the cupboard. This special party is sponsored by none other than our great room mate Jagesh!” announced Balu.

Within a few minutes the lock was broken and within seconds to that all friends found the much sought treasure – Jagesh’s hidden banquet!

“Balu was right! Jagesh is a complete liar!” throwing the treasure to friends maheep said. “Ask others to join the feast. We alone can not complete these all”
The feast was grand. Not because the food stuff was very tasty but perhaps the stolen stuff was tastier or more over, the taste of ‘tit for tat’ was beyond capacity of the group’s taste buds!

Soon, everything was over. The cupboard was re arranged and closed. Every one dispersed just to eagerly wait for the scene when Jagesh returned from the library.

“Hey maheep, my cupboard is wrecked by some one! Who did this?” shocked by the broken lock Jagesh’s tongue slipped “and which rascals ate my whole week’s breakfast?”

“What breakfast?” assuming innocence maheep said “you did not bring any eatables from home. You told us today morning. Didn’t you?”

Sensing the trap, immediately Jagesh had to save himself “oh yaar! I forgot there was nothing here. You are right.”

Maheep gestured his eye to Balu and gave a winning smile. “Jagesh just make sure your books and clothes are not stolen”

Not understanding how to react to this situation, Jagesh answered “they are very much ok”

Every participant cupboard raider had a great laugh that night. But this was not the end. There was some thing more to happen.

Jagesh was not taking his meals at the student mess. His Tiffin used to come from karamsad. Many a times, tired Jagesh would come from the college in after noon and would find his tiffin empty! And no one would be ready to reveal the identity of the robber despite Jagesh’s marathon efforts at inquiry.

Routinely, a maid would come to take back all the empty tiffins. She would clean the tiffins so that they could be re filled and re sent at evening.

On one bad day for Jagesh, a maid came with his tiffin and she said she wanted to have word with him. As soon as she saw him she greeted him with a load of surtis! This was totally unexpected on Jagesh’s part! Puzzled and stupefied, Jagesh could not figure out what went so wrong with the maid. The discourse lasted until all the rage of the maid transformed to her choicest surti. Naturally, all others enjoyed the episode. After much of persuasion and explanation from Jagesh’s side consisting mainly words like “I do not know, I have not done this, I am sorry,” and gestures of apology, the maid was convinced to continue her services for him.


It was obvious for maheep to ask Balu about his role in this incident. Balu smiled. Gestured with his eye and whispered “today, I not only ate his tiffin but also put a tiffin bomb back in it!”
“What?”
Balu’s eyes sparked mischief as he said:
“A condom”

CHAPTER EIGHT : SECRETS OF THE BOYS’ HOSTEL

SECRETS OF THE BOYS’ HOSTEL


In spite of being small and helpless, for all offspring of any species, a day comes when they start facing the world on their own. When birds start flying, they suddenly see the whole world beneath their small wings. As they fly, they see they can control their own journey.

Same happens to students like us, when suddenly we find ourselves in hostel environment, far away from protected world back at home. The freedom and sovereignty comes sudden and abrupt.

How would you feel when you find only yourself from your school entering a new college? What would you do when you find yourself being complete stranger to whole herd of new boys and girls of your batch? There were many students like me, which faced challenges of suddenly starting new friendships and relations. But as we all have experienced, any new stress helps in building new relation quicker. I was lucky enough to have room partners like tapasvi and biren. to my fortune, they were my good friends from day one. Hemant, jasmine shah, samir, bhargav, biju, prakash were other angel sent friends for me. There were two hostels and we were in the main boys’ hostel. Since the main hostel was c shaped small hostel at that time, many of my batch mates were provided accommodation in the old nursing hostel.

Free man! To our delight, we found, We were free to roam and no one was there to check when we were coming back to hostel- may it be 10at night 12 mid night or even later than that! No one was to ask weather were we studying in the library or busy in an open air movie theatre at karamsad
or eating at some dhaba near vallabh vidya nagar. We had full control on our own world.

The hostel was kept pretty clean by the management. To take bath was a real joy. We had many bathrooms and bathroom singers. My name was amongst the worst cacophonics. I remember, I had habit of singing gazals at top of my maximum possible volume in our ground floor bathroom. At one such good afternoon shower, setu, a ranker from our senior batch, had to come leaving his reading from top floor to appeal - “hey neh ! May I request to please cut down your volume?”

Setu also had habit of murmuring English songs in the bath. He was a good singer. His songs were simply beyond my comprehension. “pa ra pa pa pa” were the only words which I understood from his songs, I guess.

Many of my friends used to enjoy banging the bath door from out side just for fun.
“Hey man, cant you hurry?” they would shout “get out or I will screw you!!” My good friend like samir would throw cold water from above the open wall in the bath, only to get the same back from inside! Thus the cold water war would begin! Joy fight lasted till the time for college!
(Fortunately, latrines were enough and I do not remember any one shouting for his bowel’s sake!)
A happy day would start. Some would go to mess for the breakfast and tea but most of us ate at hostel room.

Our technique of heating the milk in the plastic pouch of amul was one of its kinds. We used to use coil to boil water in bucket. The milk was ready as soon as the water. How? We just immersed the pouch in the water bucket at the time of starting the heater coil.

When we returned from the college, entire world looked tired and hungry. At that time, we had very limited choices. There was no kaveri hotel and mess used to give breakfast only in the morning. Also, it was costly for our pocket to buy the breakfast every day! So again some dry eatable or occasionally,as a luxury, we could buy a puff or a costlier cake from a kaka which used to come from karamsad to serve us the extravagance. One cheaper choice was to buy tomatoes and cucumber from a kaki usually sitting at the door of the ladies hostel.

Studious would go to library immediately after the college while average students like me would find some excuse for not reading and doing some more important work – discussing ‘studies’ with friends or going to karamsad to buy some important and useful item!

the Night of the campus was beautiful. Since our campus was surrounded by farms on one side and vast plantations of eucalyptus on the other, we had luxury of having eternal silence around the hostel. Since we were far away from polluting city environment, our sky was always bright and stars were shiny.

However the silence would perish in hostel. Sounds of chatting boys, noise of tape recorders playing fast English songs at their full volume would make your ears feel – oh! this was a boys’ hostel!

Once or twice in a month, some of our seniors had attacks of banging the hostel furniture to make maximum possible clatter. One boy would start it and soon others would join. Some would enjoy the orchestra shouting maximum possible absurd words (gaalis) along with! The friendly exchange of such words would occur from one floor of the hostel to the other. The episodes usually ended with either breakage of the furniture or a small quarrel. can you believe? i do not remember any one stopping this or even making an inquiry as to who broke the furniture!

There were some other funny things happening in the hostel at nights.
“tapasvi, can you hear this sound??” I heard a mysterious sound one night.
“Trrrrrrrrrrrr…………”
“Probably some one is pouring water from the top floor.” Tapasvi guessed. Meanwhile, the sound stopped.
“But why at mid night?” I still was not convinced.
“ha ha ha..” biren laughed “what water,chaps? Some one was having luxury of releasing his pressure from top floor directly to ground floor!” he cleared all the doubts!

One of my good friends had habit of doing ‘pressure release’ just in front of our room’s door to tease us. He was specially coming for the process from his room at mid night. This was repeated again and again despite our opposition.
“aah, I simply enjoy this! Tapasveeee… are you listening? I enjoy this!” one night my good friend shouted to irritate us.
That day he got tapasvi’s nerves. Tapasvi rapidly opened the door, rushed out side and immediately gave a kick at a specific place when he was half a way completing his ‘pressure release’.
“Abe yaar!!” my good friend was forced to jump because of the sudden unexpected kick from behind. Not only he had to save himself from falling in the dirt created by him, he also had to pull his trouser to save his shame, not mentioning the pain of stopping the pressure process in between!
Expectedly, that was the last time he attempted ‘pressure release’ in front of our room door!

CHAPTER NINETEENTH: A PIECE OF CLOTH ?

A PIECE OF CLOTH ?

At one age the world is black and white for you. Your heroes are clear and so are the villains. The confusion starts as the age advances. The thickness of gray belt in between the black and white world increases ultimately to engulf most of the black and white area as you grow. When you are young and tender, your definition of patriotism would also be black and white. Thus it was our firm belief - If you are a true patriot, you must hoist your national flag with due respect.

When we found out no one was going to hoist the national flag on 15 august in our college, it was shocking to most of the batch mates. For all of us, doubtlessly, the dean office was black

“How is this possible?” I exclaimed. “Ours is such a big medical college, still, the college authority has not even cared to make a pole for the purpose!”

“We must do something for this” supported tapasvi.

“Not possible, yaar! Today is 14. It will not be possible for us to arrange everything in such a short time”

The fact was exposed just on the 14 august. There never had been any flag hoisting before. The dean office perhaps never thought of celebrating the event. And possibly no one from our senior batches demanded the celebration.
An immediate meeting of our batch was called to crack the matter. Almost all agreed to do whatever possible to hoist the tri color Indian national flag.

Kapil, vimal, bimal, tapasvi, biren and all other friends were very zealous and fanatical for flag hoisting.

“Let us rush to khadi gram udyog to buy a flag” suggested kapil

“Damn it! It is already evening and the store would be closed. No flag - no hoisting!” said vimal looking at his wrist watch, expessing his anger for being late. We were hopeless. We did not have pole at first place and now even not the flag!
“I have one idea...” suddenly a spark flashed in bimal’s eyes. “Let us get the tri color cloth from the market and we can ask any tailor to make a flag for us”
“That is good idea. But what about the ashok chakra?” vivek had doubts.
“That we can draw with our own hand!” suggested ketan finally resolving the problem.

“So boys! Let us run…!”

The over zealous boys made teams and all took different responsibilities. One team rushed to anand to fetch the tri color cloth. Another one went to karamsad to ask the tailor to open his shop in emergency to join the cloth to make the flag. The girl’s team started inviting the seniors and the teachers.

I and tapasvi went to dr. shishir Gandhi, asst. prof. of medicine and head of student’s committee.

“Is this so?” dr gandhi was really surprised “are you sure? Do we not have even a single pole to hoist the flag in our college?”

“Yes sir. But now we want to hoist the flag tomorrow. Kindly install one pole in emergency” we requested from the depth of our heart. Looking at the young enthusiastic boys, dr. Gandhi probably realized the urgent need for pole.

“ok.ok. but can you suggest the place? I can immediately ask workers to install” he assured.

“Yes sir .the easiest and most feasible place is just on the top of the college entrance.” We suggested. Dr Gandhi saved our hearts. He immediately sent a worker along with us.

We jumped on the top of the college entrance and showed the place. The work started immediately. – Hurray! What an achievement!

Next step was to invite some proper person to do flag hoisting. Since the dean was out of the station, we requested dr. mazoomdar, head of the deptt Of physiology, to hoist the flag.
“Sir you must wear Gandhi topi to salute the flag”

“GANDEE topi? Yes. I will arrange for that” sir spoke with his atypical speech agreeing to our demand.

In mean time our friends back at hostel got the tri color cloth sieved from the tailor (tailor’s house and shop was just beside sardar patel’s birth place, karamsad). They had other problems.

“Can any one tell me? How many lines are there in ashok chakra? 18? 22? 24?” bimal was confused. “If the flag is not properly made, we can not hoist such a flag. It would be rather an insult to the nation.” He expressed fear. We had to search our memories back to school days.

“I am sure the number is 24. I surely remember our text book of the ‘nagreek shashtra’! ”asserted kapil confidently and the work started. Bimal and the team worked al most over night and made a beautiful ashok chakra in the centre of the flag. The flag was ready late at mid night. Every one was tired but no one was feeling so. Finally the flag was shining – even in our tender hearts. We all were amazed as how beautiful our national flag looked. Was it because we made it by our own?

The next issue was how to fold the flag so that it opens properly at the time of hoisting. I had some idea. But we rehearsed the process to avoid any fiasco in the morning.

Now everything was ready. All of us really felt we have done our best to see that their beloved mother land is duely respected in our college on the Independence Day.

Thus came the auspicious morning of the first 15 august of the college. Every one- teachers, seniors, juniors, clerical staff - gathered in front of the college gate. We did not have loud speakers, decorative materials, costly flowers but we definitely had the zeal and enthusiasm to respect the motherland, amounted more than any thing that money could buy.

The ceremony was completed in a few minutes. A few of the people like kadri did not turn up. Later, he gave his clear opinion that weather to come or not for flag hoisting could not amount to his patriotism.

Hemant, my close friend and a real patriot, was out of station on the 15th august. When he returned from his home and heard the entire story, he really felt unhappy.

“Did you make the flag with ideal measurements? No. damn you fools! The flag must be of proper size. Otherwise it is not the national flag at all! You have hoisted only a piece of cloth!”

“But hemant. Just look at the way every one worked together overnight. Look at the emotions attached to that piece of cloth made by us. It makes that cloth as precious as the national flag.” But I never could convince him for this. Perhaps till today!

CHAPTER NINE : OUR PROFESSORS

GUJJU-ANGREJ

“Do you know? you feel like a doctor only three times in your entire life ”explained dr.hemang acharya professor of medicine and my jijaji, when I got admission to PSMC “first, when it is your first day in your college, second, when you wear stethoscope in 2nd MBBS and third when you join internship!”

True. Really, how can you continually feel like a doctor when you are continuously and mercilessly bombarded by professors, tutors, exams and vivas? I mean, they just blast off your head with loads of information, that too when it is simply too hard for you to understand it. For instance, I remember dr. arya from deptt of psm tried to teach us clamydia, an organism somewhere between the bacterial and viral world, when no one from us even properly knew difference between virus and bacteria. that too, of course, in the very first lecture from deptt of preventive and social medicine!

Most of us were from gujarati medium and that too was the one of the problem. However I learnt English well before my entry to medical college. A bit proud about it, I remember, first time when I searched to tapavi’s home in ahmedabad, i asked about his address to a local young boy in English .he seemed annoyed, asked from where I came, and gave me proper guidance. After walking about a kilometer, ultimately I found out tapasvi’s place.

After a few days, in our hostel room, we were talking about gujarati angreji.

“You know neh, those who know little English behave like a fool some times. A few days back, one gujarati boy asked address of my house un necessarily in English to my younger brother Nimitt. I do not know who that comedian was!” not knowing the incident, tapasvi expressed his genuine views.
Oops! That boy i asked the address happened to be tapasvi’s brother! and comedian? Naturally-me!

“You are right” I said avoiding eye contact!

Most of the teacher professed in English as it was the language of instruction. However, every one had some peculiarity about their speech. For instance. Dr. mazoomdar, prof. of physiology, used to speak English keeping his lips tightly pursed. Initially for us, it was difficult to find from which part of body the sound was produced! He was fond of asking questions.

“Yes neha! (As he used to call me in the classroom)” and “kkhommon sense!” still ring in my ears

Dr haridas was teaching biochemistry. he was one of the best teacher i ever have met. No student could sleep in his lecture even at last bench.his speech was very much pressured one and he used the speak like a popcorn machine! –Phossphofrrructokhi nase……!

From anatomy, we had dr. danger wala, she had very good habit of going to root of medical terminology, explaining how easy the terms were. (umbo..etle shu?gada na paida na ara jya wachche bhega thayne, e upselo bhaag! Now you compare the central part of ear drum...). she used to teach histology and in journal she used to check the position of nuclei in the cell also, apart from other details. Naturally most of the students had to re draw the figures. From her teachings it became clear, English, as medical terminology was perfect. The Sanskrit professors, in fanatic try to convert these words for gujarati medium student made the same words more clumsy, messy and beyond reach for students to understand .I remember a name of a bone from my 12th std text book as parshwa pashcha kapali purkarnasthi! !

“Underline thousand times!” were the words heard thousand times from anatomist dr bhatiya. In viva, he used to ask the student to hold the specimen not only in anatomical position but also at the same height of the part in question in the student’s body. So one had to hold lungs near his/her lungs, kidney near his /her kidney and so on…!

Dr. raibaghkar from deptt of anatomy was a kind of good audio tape player. He had good collection of many tapes on the subject which routinely started at the start of his lecture and ended without any interaction at the end of the lecture. Occasionally, he used to stop the tape and asked question to us, may be because he might be suddenly realizing the whole herd of students sitting in front of him or to get some time to re arrange the tapes. Usually it was difficult to satisfy him with the answer.when no one could give answer he used to ask his favorite second question:

“Any one from senior batch?” this to usually followed by eternal silence from the audience made up of dumb students like me. most of the times he used to give the answer and sometimes not. but his tape would start exactly where he stopped!

How can I forget dr Nishith? Tall, fair, handsome speaking only needed words in the class, never giving more than 50%- 40% in vivas. Usually his lecture followed that of dr mazoom’s . mazoom sir never used to clean the black board at the end of his lecture.

Annoyed, dr nishith used to comment “this is like not flushing the toilet after using it!"

CHAPTER FIVE : BAD BOYS OF OUR HOSTEL

See? My mind is still so occupied with our experience of ragging in the college, I altogether have forgotten to write about our introductory lecture at the college. It was so un impressive, I remember that event only faintly.

The introductory lecture was arranged in our big lecture hall. All my batch mates filled the hall. I hardly knew anyone! The stage was not decorated. The chairs on the stage remained empty for some time. First person, who appeared like a pune to me, climbed the stage and to my surprise, sat gently in one of the chairs!

The dean of the college was dr gulati, a pharmacologist and a very serious looking man. He sat in the centre. He welcomed us in extra serious speech unlike any hindi film to which all of us listened very silently. Then he introduced the heads of different departments of the first MBBS. dr haridas was head of the deptt of biochemistry. Dr shrivastav head of the dept of anatomy , for whom my eyes were searching, was absent. The man that looked like pune was the head of the dept of physiology. Ouch!

All The heads delivered small speech about their subject. The heads were known as eminent personalities of their own field. However, I remember nothing from their speeches!

It was difficult for me to understand why no one spoke about the burning issue of recognition process of our college by the MCI. But because of hon. shree h.m. patel, that issue was not perceived at all.

H.M. patel was probably sick and could not welcome us in very first lecture.

Our curriculum was to start immediately. For me, it was like a sudden sprint from lazy sleep of grand vacation after 12th std. Naturally no teacher or the dean spoke about the ragging going on in our lives. Every one offered us unconditional help for “everything”. I really do not believe they were un aware of what was going on in the hostel. it was not a big issue for them and mostly was perceived as a part of the culture of the medical college!

The game was simple for all. it was nothing to be bothered about.

But the worst part of this senior junior game was yet to come on us.

One evening we were asked to go to a room in ground floor.we were not grossly tense since this was now a routine. again, it was me and tapasvi. the ragger's room was just a few steps away from our hostel room. the door opened silently. it was full of smoke, yelling about the nature of the occupants. As I and tapasvi made entry through the smoke, we saw a fair skinned man awaiting us.he looked like an ugly fox to us.he was sitting on his cot, supporting himself with both of the hands behind.his eyes were blue.he looked at us to probably decide what best could be brought out from dumbs like us.

From his appearance it was clear that he had cooked some great idea for us. There were few others also. though it was not new, but our hosts had extra grip on bullying.the welcome speech was full of some new bad words we ever had heard.

Looking down to floor, we helplessly stood in front of them trying to block our ears form their welcome words.after that we told our names on inquiry.

“ so...neh and tapasvi... do you know how to dance?” playing with smoke and cigarette, fair skinned man asked. Some one told us, he was amongst the worst chronics of the college.

dance? i never attempted in my life ! even not at navaratri times at bhuj. while some of my friends were champions, i had a great hesitation in doing garba in public. this was one of the similarity between me and shanti, my best friend and claasmate at bhuj. both of us used to remain spectators at garba.

“NO. I never ever have danced before” i replied. tapasvi did not say anything but from his facial expressions, it was clear that he also never had danced before in his life!

“Good. Then boys! Let us teach you!” they laughed. If you remember, tapasvi was very tall RAAJPUT and I was hardly 5.5’ft. i looked at tapasvi. he seemed grossly stressed like me.

"what you fools are waiting for? hold your hands like just married couple !" the order was out. damn ! i wished i could oppose. but many a times in life, you find yourself weaker than a hero you think you are ! tapasvi took his big hand on my back and held my one hand loosely.i also put my other hand on tapasvi's back. our seniors started clapping to give us rhythm. we really danced hating each of the steps of dance. laughing and bullying was going on as a routine.

All of them really enjoyed two obedient juniors at their command. Both of us were sweating and our hearts were beating fast in attempt to sustain the humiliation and agony.soon the dance was over.

“Speak some good Gaali yaar! Don’t you speak any?” asked the fair skinned fox throwing his ciggerete on the floor. this was shocking demand for both of us. while vulgarity and bad words are part of routine boys and gentlemen, it might sound strange to many but i never speak any bad word even in company of my best friends till today. tapasvi also is like me though being true raajput !

“No I never have spoken such kind of word in my life” said i hesitantly.

“ so what are you waiting for? start speaking now!” applause and laugh from small audience. Probably they thought they were doing us a great favor by making us speak gaali - an essential tool of communication especially in college! It was kind of baptism in college life.



We were silent. searching our souls for power to resist. but miserably, both of us simply had given up.

“What do you think of your self? some kind of saints? Speak up NOW!” the group got angry.


Neither mentally nor physically it was possible for us to resist them. We felt like killing our souls. But no way….we had to speak at least a single word of their desire. That was first and last time for both of us in life.

For me,a student from small town like bhuj, this was a completely head blowing experience. How can one feel good making the fellow beings pitiable? How can one enjoy other’s helplessness and agony?



After this episode, we heard of a hero…amim kadri.. he did something that we could not !He refused to speak any gaali at any cost at the time of his ragging. he was from our senior batch…a real RANCHO!

CHAPTER SIX : DISSECTING RELATIONS AND WOW

DISSECTING RELATIONS AND WOW

Curiosity, fear, doubt, hesitation, joy of doing something forbidden are some of the many strange feelings associated with dissection of human bodies. That still remains a unique experience as a medical student.

can you believe a human dissection hall in a guest house? this was because when we entered the college the main college building was under final phase of construction. our dissection hall was on the top floor of old three storied building actually made to be a guest house.

on one end of our beautiful campus, there were hostels, mess and the new college building, the other end about 3kms away, had staff quarters and a guest house converted in our temporary college.

since my sister neha studied MBBS in MP shah medical college jamnagar, i had some idea of the dissection hall. still, i never had seen it with my own eyes. we were taken to dissection hall on our first anatomy day. as soon as we entered the hall,I remember one of my batch mate fell down! immediately he was taken care of by our instructors. The hall was emanating a typical smell of carcasses and formalin. Some of the bodies were covered with white clothes while others were open for work. The skin had lost the natural color and looked blackish brown. The faces of the bodies looked horrible at first sight.

All human machinery was intact with help of formalin but no activity, no thoughts, no feelings. such sight naturally would trigger chain of thoughts. the first thing which came to mind was We all would be like these bodies one day… and no one was an exception. the bodies were silent but what they might have thought at the time of their death? what experience they would have undergone which we still are to face? scary? horrible? or just like deep sleep after painful bodily suffering? How they might have decided about their own body’s donation leaving all the religious beliefs like moksha, heaven, hell and especially avgat(soul not resting in peace after death) in absence of religious rituals after death? what about their near and dear ones? what would they feel if they see their loved one's half cut body in our hall?

the instructor guided our batch in the hall.the hall was damn big.we were told to keep silence. the batch was further divided in small groups of about 5-6 students. we were allotted different tables for dissection of human body.

on our table, there was a body covered with white cloth like all others. it looked something scary under the cloth. suppose if we removed the cloth and the the body waked up? an irrational thought! but i tell you , humans are basically irrational and first thought they have for any new experience is usually deep from their minds without a drop of rationale! our brain starts working after getting irrational jolts from naked mind!
after listening to to instructor one of my batch mate removed the cloth gracefully. ouch! the horrifying body was of a female about 50-60 yrs old. her eyes were closed and her face looked in deep sleep. the skin was dark because of effect of the preservatives.

the first day was just for the orientation purpose.we were to start our dissection from the parts of upper limb. we were told about our instruments to be used for dissection like scalpel, bone cutter, toothed and tissue forceps etc.

the hall was big and there were about 6-8 tables for dissection. on each table, there was a dead body. as i looked around, There was one big tank at the terrace. That was the store, i mean, store for dead bodies!with a bit of fear, i went near it just to have a look. it was partially covered. still i could peek in that scary tank. damn it! The sight was not less than any Hollywood horror film.i saw All the bodies in that store tank were immersed in the preservative chemical. Lifeless, dumped on one another like wood. Their hairs were floating in the chemical and the eyes were staring beyond life. can you imagine your own body in such situation?

We were told that all the bodies were donated. The people donated their bodies for noble cause to help medical students to study human machine and use their knowledge for humanity.
.
The workers handling the dead bodies under the guidance of the tutors and prof.s were completely indifferent for the bodies as it was their daily work. They were moving the dead bodies like any other inanimate object.

“Do you have bone set?” a dead body like looking man asked when i was just looking around. Apart from doing dissection of the human bodies we had to study the skeletal structure. For that we had to have a whole real human skeletal set. The man who asked the question was a pune in deptt of anatomy running bone business along with. “come to me after the class.I have a few sets. You can select one” his name was Josef probably.

We went for selection of the set and I chose one fine sturdy bone set for me. Since the skull had to be studied from inside also, the seller cut the skull vault for student’s benefit. It was around 1500 Rs. At that time As I remember.

Back at the dissection hall, we had dr rakesh Gandhi, dr gedia and one more lady tutor her name was probably mrs dalwadiya and she used to pronounce “budi” in place of “body” while teaching.

Dr. Gandhi was finest possible tutor. He not only had good knowledge of the subject but was also very much empathetic for the students. Dr. Gandhi was a good dissector and used to show us difficult parts.


For students from gujarati medium the questions were many. How anterior is different than ventral? Why dorsal is not posterior? Why anterior remained anterior and posterior remained posterior even after turning the body on the abdomen? How could “cephalic” be pronounced? Some teachers were pronouncing as “sefelic” while others “kephalic”! Why anatomical position for penis is erect even if it is not the usual position?

We felt the Gujarat secondary board should have taught us human body in spite of frog if they really wished to help us study medicine or biology. I felt they should have been shown at least one volume of our dissection manual by Cunningham, if not textbook of anatomy- gray.

The dissection manual had amazing pictures of human structures. We were supposed to dissect and see those structures. Our batch was to start with the dissection of human upper limb. The batch further was divided in group of 5 to 6 students. We had to perform the dissection at each session till a given point.

The feel of the dead skin was quite hard than expected. It required good amount of force to cut it open. There was no bleeding as blood was replaced with formalin, a very sticky chemical. We had to rub our hands very hard in attempt to get its smell off the hands before going for lunch or dinner.

I really still do not understand why we were not allowed to wear gloves while performing dissection. In fact, as our seniors told their experience, our professors would get angry if they saw any one using gloves in the dissection hall.

when i was in bhuj, some of my friends had a few queries.
-how can you take food immediately after a session of dissection of human body? Do not you feel ugly?
-are all the structure inside same for all the bodies?
-how human brain looks?

While others had irrational but real fears
-do you see any ghosts near your anatomy deptt?
-do the dead bodies come in your dreams to warn you?
-how can you sleep keeping human skull near your bed?
-do the professors perform any yagna or hanuman chalisa to keep ghosts away from them? In their opinion - They must be- might be doing that secretly.


Some were curious for other reasons.
-do they give you naked bodies? Even of females?
-do the girls and boys dissect such bodies in one group? Even the private parts?
-do you really discuss such parts with the girls? Do not they feel awkward?


There was one popular story connecting ragging and dissection told by my friends at bhuj-
When juniors join the college, the seniors, for ragging, would ask them to go to the dissection hall at night along with seniors. While seniors would stay outside, the junior would be forced to go inside the hall to put lollypop in mouth of each of the dead bodies. The junior, frightened but finding no other way would do the dreadful job. He would plant the lollypop one by one. After placing the last, he would try to dart out the hall but the last dead body being one of the mischievous senior, sit up and speak “oh, very nice lollypop! May I get another one??”

Back In the hall the scenes were very different. Almost all the students got comfortable with the dissection within a week or so. All the feelings attached with the dead bodies gradually perished as we got deeper in the technicalities and as it became a daily routine job. you forget what you did just 10 min back when you are hungry and when that becomes your routine. i do not remember any one from our batch not eating or vomiting after lunch.

none of our professors or tutors or even the seniors told any superstitious stories about the dissection.

since there was no distinction between girls and boys, The hall was a good place to interact with all.naturally the human bodies were given naked for dissection.but when you are burdened with so much of academic technicality, you hardly can think anything else than to complete your work on the body. it was natural to dissect and discuss all parts amongst boys and girls. thus the interaction of boys and girls was very close and so The process of “coupling” started right from the hall for many of the successful couples of our batch. For example, sameer – margee from our table.

Some of the students, especially boys, learned the job of finely dissecting the anatomical structures quite well and used it to impress the girl members of the team.We were free to go to any table to see the dissected structures.sometimes even our tutors used to ask us to go to a particular table to see a finely dissected structure there.

“Now I can show you greater and lesser sac! Come this side please!” and the girl would go to his side to all his pleasure to study the part! Not only that, she would screech “my goodness! How beautiful!” her words would attract more honey bees to his advantage from other groups also.

Some of the boys were real boys.
“Guys, what I do you know?” one of my friends said revealing his secret “I do not waste time in digging up the deep structures” he smiled and looked into our eyes as if he was to reveal ultimate knowledge on the earth. “I go to any pretty girl’s table and request her to show the deepest structure dissected. She would bend down to show it….. And what you see…! WOW!”