(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….
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….
