CH 31: MY ARTS COLLEGE

It has been now 22 yrs since I joined pramukhswami medical college. I do not remember why but there came a period of strike just after a few months of joining the college. It was the time when all of us just were getting familiar with each other and strengthening our new friendships.

As soon as the strike announced, all the students, freshly sick about their homes, departed immediately. I also left for bhuj. i promised my new friends tapasvi, hemant, biren, jasmine shah and others to keep in touch by letters. That time the world was devoid of any kind of mobiles! So forget about sms!

When I arrived back in my beautiful home town bhuj, apart from roaming around leisurely with friends, I had nothing to do. i already was awerse to reading medical books. There are only a few rare occasions in life when you wish to do something just to kill the time. It was such a time for me.

Three decades back, bhuj had only one arts cum science college and one commerce college. Both were and are on the same road and so the road is rightly known as the college road in bhuj.

The r. r. lalan college was one of the oldest and as old as my parents graduated from that college. Those of my 12th std friends opted to do B.sc. had to go to lalan college. Just to kill time and have some college fun, I joined my school friends suresh, yogesh and started attending the lectures at lalan college.

The college was a few kilometers away from the main city. I never had any vehicle and I used to enjoy riding my grandfather’s tall bicycle to join my friends in their college. The college campus was vast. After entering the campus, one had to go a kilometer or so to reach the red college building.the college was big but it was in many ways different than my college. it was big, but ill maintained. the corners were studded with waste papers, used ball pens etc.

while there were limited students in my college, i saw big herds of students in lalan college near every lecture all and corridors. in my college, boys and girls were seen freely interacting with each other. here, the groups of boys and girls were mostly seen non interacting. probably there was no social approval of good friendship between boys and girls. my friends told me most of such friendships were haunted by gossips.

the class rooms were big enough to accomodate about 100 students. but students were probably far more and each class was grossly over crowded. i remember a few lectures i attended. one day i went to a sanskrit class. the lady lecturer was a new one. she was to teach famous story by kalidas 'abhigyan shakuntalam'. it is a love story.

the class was full of students. all were talking to each other and there was big noice. some students were standing and some were still coming in while a few were going out. the big windows were good enogh to bring fresh oxygen for all of us and were also giving panoramic view of the beautiful campus outside. however, windows mainly were used to interact with friends peeping in from out side. entry of the lecturer hardly made any difference to the activities going on in the class ! the roll call was done and taking advantage of the chaos, many said "yes madam" on behalf of their friends wandering somewhere else! the crowd was such that it was imposiible for the lecturer to confirm.

the lecturer had some notes with her and she started speaking something from it. some good boys shouted "stop noice stop noice "to help the novice teacher. the noice lessened but coming in going out and peeping from windows continued. the lecturer was heard till a few feets.i was within that range.as she taught further a sanskrit word "paurush" was repeated again and again. succumbing to my nature, i stood up and asked "madam what is the meaning of paurush could you please explain for me?"

my question was totally un expected for her.it struck to her from out of blue.i was confident that it would be impossible for her to recognise me as an outside student. she was silent for a few moments letting the noice and chaos in class to increase. then she said paurush was a king and it also means a man. the answere not only dis satisfyied me but also the class. i really was astonised to find a lecturer in sanskrit unable to explain word paurush.

Not all class were same. husband of my 12th std chamistry teacher jyotiben, dr. trivedi was a prof of psychology and i attended his class after taking his due permission. that class was totally different and just like was any of class in my college. students sat with pin drop silence and greeted the prof by standing up as he came in.

" dear students, " said sir " before going for today's topic, let me tell you there is one guest student in our class, " he pointed at me "nehal  is a student of mbbs but out ou curiosity of the subject he has joined you friends today. i welcome him.."  i thanked sir by bowing by head to him. it feels very strange when all of the class suddenly starts staring at you. i took some time to settle my heartbeats ! sir's lecture was fine and like a learned artist playing his favorite instrument.

the experience in the lalan college thus was mixed. however, i also went to commerce college with my friends wich was couple of kilometers away from the lalan college. the atmosphere there was almost same.at commerce college, i had luxury to attend lecture of lecture of our respected professor dr vakhat sinh jadeja. he was teaching english to college students. and to my surprise, he had to teach from very basics as if he was teaching primary school children! i remember asking him a question in the class and he was so happy to answere it!

whenever i see any college, i always wonder wether the courses provided in such institutes have any meaning for leading a productive life. wether it confers even basic knowledge of living life, leave the honesty and mirality away. arts commerce and even science colleges add nothing to life except degrees.they eat away important years of our young generation. i feel all the courses should have either meaning in life or some kind of vocation. i feel no thrill to learn kalidasa when i know  that no one outside is going to offer me even a clerk's job even if i recite whole of the abhigyaan shakuntalam! i definately would enjoy learning it if it means getting creative writer's job in a news paper or something. 

meanwhile, the strike was to get over in my college. i had written quite a lot letters to my new friends and they also had replied to my pleasure. i still have copies some of those letters !

CH 30 :NEHRU'S FOLLOWER IN PANCHVATI THE SLUM

For me, going to panchvati slum every week became a ritual to feed my soul with my dreams and ambition to serve the needy. Amongst all my friends, I was one of the most regular in visiting panchvati. As I described earlier, panchvati was a typical slum with all the bad and a few good qualities. to be good friends was one of such good qualities they had. As our visits became regular, people started trusting us more. many became our friends and started sharing about their life.

Most of the people of panchvati worked in the farms nearby. Some had little jobs at karamsad. Many were not employed at all.so It was nothing surprising to see some one jobless. however, those which worked, they had to work very hard to earn their bread and butter.

While most of the workers looked tired in the evening, There was one man of around 50 yrs, which looked afresh most of the times. also, he had better hut and better clothes than his counter parts. his hut was just in front of our slum clinic. i really wondered as to what he was doing to make such a living?
" hey, kaka,may i ask you a personal question? what do you do for living?" one day i asked him ultimately, when he was leisurely passing by our clinic.
" me? " he stopped.
"yes kaka. i never have seen you working. how do you make living?" i exclaimed my curiosity completly to him.
he stood still for a while. might be he was hesitant to reveal. probably he might be a retired man living on his son's income that he disliked to reveal i guessed. i felt my question was too personal and intrudive. i thought i should not have asked such a personal question.
after a few seconds he made up his mind to reveal the secret. "my son, do you know? when i was young, there was a great leader..."
-leader of his times? hey, what is he up to? would he talk about some swamiji? a bhagat? or might be ganghiji? no no. he might not even know gandhiji. his talk made me more eager.
" yes kaka.."i said trying to hide my curiosity.
" his name was javaharlal nehru.." wow! kaka knew nehru! what a blow!
"he used to tell all the indians to go back to villages and start gruh udyog (small scale business managed totally at home). this would uplift not only your family but also your village and the state and the nation ultimately..." he gestured totality with both of his hands to mark his point.
"so my son, i decided to start a gruh udyog here. that is what i do for living..." he smiled. i never knew he was such a great man! His hut was just in front of our clinic and we were totally unaware of his gruh udyog. but what exactly was he doing? should i ask him to show us? his talk gave me more confidence.
" that is simply great kaka! we never knew it! but can you allow us to see your gruh udyog?" i was eager to see and so i asked him.
Again he looked in a bit confusion. might be, he was doing some gruh udyog like making papad or khakhra that is mainly percieved as women's work and so he was again hesitant. again he needed some more time to think on my demand. probably he was making up his mind to say no.
" okay son i will show you what gruh udyog i run." he agreed.
" thanks a lot kaka! may we, i and my friend tapasvi come with you right now?" i jumped immediately.
" that will not be feasible. you can come next week when next time you come here in your clinic.you need to come in the late evening." it was difficult to wait till next visit but there was no option.

Usually, we worked at panchvati in evening. After finishing our routine clinic or some community work, we used to return to our hostel at around 7.30 pm. we could visit kaka after that time.

that evening, while returning from panchvati, curiosity about kaka's gruh udyog had studded my mind. i and tapasvi talked about the kaka on the way wondering about his gruh udyog. the man was really great as he came to his village just for following advice of our great first prime minister.

and again the day came. i and tapasvi both were eager to reach to panchvati and go to kaka's hut to see his gruh udyog. both of us started our routine work. while examining patients, suddenly we heard a big cry outside. the voice was of some old lady. both of us ran out side our hut clinic along with our other friends.the cry was from the next street. we ran in that direction.

we saw an old lady of about sixty loudly cursing her husband for something.she was standing outside her hut and her old husband was on char pai -cot- sitting loosely with dirty clothes. the grandma was shouting and her husband who appeared half asleep, was probably not listening to her at all! to our surprise nobody but it was only us who ran out for the shouting.

we all were puzzled as to what to do. a local from nearby hut came to us to solve our confusion.

" just leave them..." he gestured at the old couple." both of them are drunk and this is their daily business..." damn! what kind of people they were! drunk every evening and quarreling?As i saw them again i immediately recognized the grandma. she was none other than one which was coming to our hostel in evening to sell carrots cucumber and tomatoes.she used to sit at the big gate of our girl's hostel and was very popular amongst girls. all used to call her "masi". she was very keen in observing the boys and girls. some times her awkward comments were enough to give a spark to quarrel.it was her routine to come to our campus daily.

and here she was buying liquor daily from that money she earned from the hostels! really, such kind of people waste even something they have. it was pity she and her husband both could get the liquor. some one must be supplying the whole area. home service like milk man!

masi's shouting lessened, as she started crying.for all the neighbors, this was probably routine. no one seemed concerned about her crying. rather, some people were smiling looking at the poor old lady.

i had heard about the ill effects of liquor- physical economical and here i was witnessing social. i felt liquor must be banned. no one should be able to get it. for masi, apart from witnessing her sorrows, we were unable help. gradually her crying lessened and we went back to our work. we felt very sorry for the old couple.yes, we forgot kaka's invitation to go to see his gruh udyog because of this mess. we remembered suddenly when we were packing up our clinic.

"hey,tapasvi we almost forgot kaka's invitation today. let us go." i told tapasvi
"yes. that masi's cry made us forget even our souls! it still hurts inside.any way, let us go to kaka." said tapasvi.

kaka was sitting outside his hut on char pai in his routine clothes. he was expecting us. he stood up as he saw us coming.
" ram ram kaka." we greeted him.
"ram ram. come here with me." kaka gestured to come into his hut.
his hut was a typical one of a slum with a few steps to climb to enter a chali outside. the door was little smaller than needed for an average adult to enter. i had to bend my head but tall tapasvi needed to bend whole of his body to pass from the door!

there was small main room poorly lit with tungsten bulb. there hardly was any furniture. walls were studded with photos of different gods and goddesses. a kitchen was attached to main room that hardly could accommodate a person.there was small window in the main room.
kaka guided us further in again from a small door. the room we entered had no windows to my surprise. kaka stopped near a steel drum of about half a meter hight. the drum was kept on a chulha. fire was lit with sticks below. smoke was filling up the whole room from the burning sticks. drum was tightly closed and a pipe was coming out towards a glass bottle kept at some distance from the chulha. some clear liquid was coming out from the open end of the pipe along with some steam. a white big funnel was kept to stop spillage outside the bottle.

" now tell me boys isn't it like your laboratory in your college?" said kaka in proud voice. "when i was young, javaharlal nehru told the youth to go back to their villages and start their own gruh udyog." he went near his assembly and put his hand under the end of the pipe to get a few drops of the liquid he was making.
"see? it is pure!" he showed his hand to us.
"what is this kaka?" looking at the hand smeared with the liquid, i inquired.it was smelling bad like a hell.
"don't you know? this is liquor!" kaka opened up the damn secret! so this was his gruh udyog! it was nothing unbelievable but surely it was unexpected. tapasvi looked less surprised than me may be because he had seen mone villages than me.i really was surprised.kaka, a hero for me just before a few minutes suddenly turned villain! he might have his own excuses for staring such a devilish production center. but no excuse can be entertained for any work that can ruin lives of other poor people.
" i will show you how to check when it is perfectly ready." kaka started enjoying his show. "i learnt all this when i was young at ahmedabad." he extended a small container under the open end of the pipe to get a few drops in it. he put it on the floor and lit it with a match stick. biff! the liquid caught fire immediately.
" can you see? if it is ready and pure, it will immediately catch fire.i take utmost care for the quality." kaka explained his deep knowledge.with a blow of air from his mouth, he extinguished the fire.
" when nehru told the youth, i was wondering as to what could be done by me at my village. then i learnt this. this is my small scale business." he was as proud as any self made business man. i and tapasvi both were speechless. technically, kaka had created a wonder despite the fact that he never had seen a school. but morally, was he right? the law of land in gujarat would not permit sell or making of liquor. but what would we say if an industrialist starts an official plant of making wine out side gujarat? lawful? simply because he could throw money to make it lawful? difficult question to answer.
kaka showed his business with zeal.thank heavens, he did not offer us free treat of his pure product!

now i could understand from where did the masi and her husband got the ticket to hell. in fact, On the way from panchvati to our hostel, we used to see a lot of whitish empty plastic bags. I wondered about those bags. In those days, plastic bags were not as commonly seen as today. In fact, the plastic revolution had not started yet.I had seen such bags, as I remembered, in bad lonely streets of bhuj. Some of my friends had told me such bags were used to pack locally made liquor. There used to have very typical rotten grape or jaggery like smell in the air around areas where such bags were thrown. Same smell and same bags were seen on the way back from panchvati to our hostel. the major waste seen in and around the ugly pond was of these bags.

naturally when production was local, it was very easy to get. but weren't they worried of police and jail? not at all. gradually it came our knowledge police used to come to panchvati, not to arrest people but to get hapta! so no tension for those making or taking! some times they used to stop their business for sometime to restart again after new setting. we heard that panchvati was notorious for this and they were supplying to even agents at ahmedabad!!

CH 29 :PANCHVATI: SEARCHING SOUL IN SLUM

The elusively named slum panchvati near karamsad village was 2-3 kms away from our hostel. Dr Mehta’s health circle used to work there. As a part of the health circle, we used to go there weekly. The slum was just touching a small dirty pond. (Presently there is sardar patel memorial in place of that pond.)

“So friends, how will you approach the people in the slum?” before leaving for slum, dr mehta asked us all “you first need to introduce yourself in proper manner. Let us play a role. Uma sister, can you please be a slum dweller for a few minutes?”

Uma was a senior student from nursing college and was very enthusiastic lady. She was natural leader of the nursing students. Our pre slum visit meeting was as usual at the small garden of dept of psm.

“Ok sir. This is my home and I am sitting outside.” She said as she folded her legs on the lawn. “Who is coming to my home?” she smiled.

“Yes neh and tapasvi go to her and introduce yourself. Do it as if she really is a lady from slum!” dr mehta asked us.

We both stood up as all other friends of ours watched us. We approached ‘the slum lady’, uma sister. She was not shabana aazmi or something but was very honest about the role play.

“Ben,” started tapasvi “namaste! My name is tapasvi” he turned to me “this is my friend Neh. We both study in medical. (That is what the local public used to call our grand college!)

Uma looked to us skeptically “so why are you disturbing me then? Go to medical and study for yourself. Let me do my home chores.”

“Ben, we are here to teach you people about how to keep healthy.” I said a bit in proud manner.

‘just a minute there neh,” dr Mehta interjected immediately “ you must remember you are not obliging her but rather she is obliging you by allowing you strangers to go near her home. Be more polite.”

“Ben namaste!” I folded my hands made my tone softer and shabana- I mean uma sister- could not help herself from smiling. “My name is neh. May we talk to you for a minute?”

This time uma acted less apathetic to my request “yes please” she said
“We both study in medical near your village. We are here to talk with you and others. We want learn about how you live. We will also run a small clinic here and you and your family can come to us if anyone is sick.” I tried my best.
“You are welcome here.” Said azmi at last. Dr Mehta approved.

Dr Mehta gave us small bag of drugs and we started walking towards the slum. It was 2-3 kms away from our college. It was evening time.

The entry to slum was typical. There was filth and dirt every where on even the main road. Native dogs stared our party but somehow allowed us in as it was not complete dark then! The goats wandering outside were very indifferent to our movement. Dr Mehta and our seniors already had contact with the people of slum and so some of the people greeted dr Mehta as we headed in.

The houses were ill ventilated and mostly were made with mud and stones. There was collection of dirty water here and there. As it was evening, it was time to cook and so sagdis were lit near some houses with thick smoke coming our from the coal. The smell of the smoke filled our nostrils admixed with the smell of dirty waters. Probably there were no bathrooms and toilets in any of the house. The pond near the slum served as a huge open toilet for them. It also provided the luxury of water to wash their clothes.

some men of the community were probably coming back to home from the farms where they worked. some old men were relaxing on hand woven char-pai just at the entrance of their huts. some were seen in groups-relaxing, smoking bidis and talking something to each other. they hardly noticed us. we also noticed some age old grandmas outside their home smoking bidis! this was a strange and striking similarity of page thee celebrities and slum grandmas!

a few mothers were seen with their babies in their hand.they were hardly concerned about the house flies irritating en mass on the nose eyes and mouths of their loved ones. by looking at them, it was horrifying and obvious, they must had not been given bath since days.in schools, we read what mahatma said "uncleanliness is our national disease". this was live demonstration of that terrible fact.

we heard there was no any school or anganwadi! but how any one could forget god? of course there was a small temple of some goddess just at the center of the slum. it was probably the cleanest part of the slum.

Some children were playing on the street. They were first to be disturbed by our movement. As they looked at us, I could see feelings of amusement in their eyes. Some of them started following us. Some ran to walk in front of our small procession. A few dogs also joined their friends. Soon, a herd of children collected around us.

Dr Mehta stopped for a while and turned to children “children, can you all please repeat loudly what I say? Let all of your friends and mothers in kitchen listen to you.” The children were already excited to do something.
“Je khay chana, te jive gana” (those who eat Bengal gram, live more) he shouted the slogan. And the mass of children repeated pulling their vocal cords apart!

“ je khay bhaji, eni tabiyat taji!” (Those who eat green leafy vegetables, have good health) again the repetition was like to break the sky in pieces! ‘How come such a post graduate of medicine shouts slogans on the road? Isn’t he worried of his social status?’ I thought.

“Je khay mag, ena jor ma chale pag” (those who eat green gram, walk with strength) dr Mehta banged the ground with his foot as he spoke “pag” making a thud. The sounds of thump made by small children with their tiny unclean feet filled our ears and I still can hear that!

As we progressed in, other children joined us. The elders saw us with questions in their eyes. From the streets, our circus traveled to a small hut. One school aged boy, probably his mane was ramesh, as I faintly remember rushed to us with some keys in his hand. He was probably son of the head of the community.

The hut was given to the health circle for running the weekly clinic. Some of my senior friends soon arranged the drugs and took out the hallmark of the doctors- the stethoscope!

kp, one of my seniors, was a great enthusiast. He took all the children to a small ground and arranged them in rows. He stood in front of them and asked the children to do physical exercise with him. others sat down in the hut and started the slum clinic as a routine.

This was a completely new experience for us. we had read about true India in our books. This was in front of our own eyes- poor, dirty, illiterate, crowded, un organized, backward… far from the world we came from. It was a different world.

but still, despite all disturbing facts, one striking fact i must remember- the people of the slum were caring for each other. whole slum was probably a single family. if some one was sick, he or she was accompanied by relatives and the neighbors - without any yearly premium paid! like many parts of india, families were joint. no elders were thrown away from their homes however sick or dying they were!

we could see love and affection in eyes of the elders of the community for us.they relied on dr mehta, relied on us unconditionally.

With all odds, they still were making their living. They welcomed us and soon accepted us.

ye mera India! I love my India!

CH 28 : MARU JIVAN ANJALI THAJO!

it was not only me, my best friends tapasvi and hemant both were also touched by dr rajesh mehta.

"tapasvi, i intend to go to dr mehta's weekly meetings. will you join me?" i asked tapasvi. though hailing from ruthless darbar community, tavasvi's make up was all different.though tall and powerful, he had very soft heart and was very emotional. he was a son of a famous poet,writer and director shree indu puwar. probably he and hemant were my only friends which could understand some of my odd ideas and emotional outbursts.

"yes neh, definitely we will go together. hemant also would like to come." i was almost sure of that.dr mehta casted a kind of magical spell on us.hemant, son of a medical officer, dr. ghanshyam shah, working at an interior village gothwa, was fanatically charged with emotions to serve the underprivileged. his family originally lived in today's pakistan before partition. on sundays when all others, including tapasvi, were gone home, i and hemant used to enjoy our solitude.many a times we had hot discussions for burning issues of our people. we would agree most of the times and some times not. we highly depended on each other to bring our ideas to action. when we discussed, he used to be very emotional. i remember one such night,when we had a very hot discussion. there was some dis agreement at a point. after fierce arguments, no one could convince. it all culminated in deep silence ultimately. after a few minutes i saw tears rolling by hemant's eyes.that made my eyes wet too. that disagreement was the greatest agreement made between two friends!

some of our seniors were already going to dr mehta's health circle.some had gone just for their curiosity. naturally different persons had different view points for dr mehta " that weird doctor? what he feels is he? his dressing and way of talking just irritates me! i never can accept such a doctor." said one of our seniors.

" you will spoil your time for nothing. he will take you to nearby slum and ask you to serve! he is a kind of half mad man.if you join him, you will also be like him! people laugh behind all those who go to his meetings!" another opinion from a senior.

"see, going to slum for service, talking about countrymen and how to uplift their life....all sounds sooooo good! but in reality what difference would it make to crores of such poor people? does he believe he can change the world just by this? i don't believe him!" some had more rationalized version to spell their negativity for dr mehta's activities.however, apart from a few such strong critics, most of the students, even if not going to his meetings, had respect for dr mehta and his activities.

on the day of meeting,there was nothing much to discuss amongst ourselves. we all three went there. the meeting was in our college building at a small garden of deptt of PSM. some students from medical college and some girls from the nursing college were sitting folding their legs making circle on the lawn.it was evening time after the college hours. dr mehta was also in the circle.he looked nothing different than in the class room.somehow i felt very soothing there.it was as if my hidden wish to do something for the poor was about to be granted. there were no any formalities. soon, dr mehta closed his eyes for prayer.from the way he sung, it was obvious he was not a singer but you could feel he could sing from his heart. all others joined him to complete the chorus. i remember only a few lines of that prayer presently.

jeevan anjali thajo maru jivan anjali thajo!
bhukhya kaje bhojan banajo, tarasya nu jal thajo!


( but i got full prayer from the net and copied it here!)


જીવન અંજલિ થાજો !

મારું જીવન અંજલિ થાજો !

ભૂખ્યાં કાજે ભોજન બનજો, તરસ્યાનું જળ થાજો;

દીનદુ:ખિયાનાં આંસુ લો’તાં અંતર કદી ન ધરાજો!

મારું જીવન અંજલિ થાજો !



સતની કાંટાળી કેડી પર પુષ્પ બની પથરાજો;

ઝેર જગતનાં જીરવી જીરવી અમૃત ઉરનાં પાજો!

મારું જીવન અંજલિ થાજો !



વણથાક્યા ચરણો મારા નિત તારી સમીપે ધાજો;

હૈયાના પ્રત્યેક સ્પન્દને તારું નામ રટાજો !

મારું જીવન અંજલિ થાજો !



વમળોની વચ્ચે નૈયા મુજ હાલકલોલક થાજો;

શ્રધ્ધા કેરો દીપક મારો નવ કદીયે ઓલવાજો!

મારું જીવન અંજલિ થાજો !



કરસનદાસ માણેક







the prayer churned our heart. it reflected our emotions soaring high at that time.it could wet corners of our eyes. but to be emotional was not everything. that emotion had to transform to a definite action. probably, i felt, dr mehta was able to give us that chance.

"friends, we have some new friends with us today" said dr mehta pointing to us." can you please introduce yourself?"
" tapasvi puawar from ahmedabad."
" hemant shah from visnagar"
"neh vaidya from bhuj"

"ok ...let me tell you something about this activity. health circle is a like minded friends group interested in doing activities which could help those who are in need.routinely , we go to nearby slum and run a clinic from them.we provide them free drugs.we also do preventive activities in the community. we believe in holistic medicine and rational use of drugs. we believe all human beings equal may they come from any religion, social or economic status. we have equal respect for all the religions. we want youngsters who believe in humanity and are determined to work for the change in the society."

thus our journey with dr mehta started. it was because of him, we could meet several good friends like kp, ragnesh, neeraj pandit, chavli, kadri, uma sister, meghna sister and many more. how could i forget jagdish soni? a gem of the persons i ever had met. he turned to be a true friend forever. dr. bhalendu vaishnav was a very good physician devoting time to activities of the health circle.

dr mehta's push gave us capacity, strength and determination to do what we really wished. he nurtured our tender feelings. it was because of him , we could meet some great people like vinay charul, daxaben-anilbhai-rashmibhai, dr ketan zaveri, dr shreedhar, dr anurag bhargav.they all were great inspiration for us ( and stll they are! they all need separate chapter for proper introduction.)


of course, not every thing about dr mehta's personality i liked. he was a staunch devotee of shree swaminarayan bhagwan. he had great zeal to read and to follow the holy book written by bhagwan shree swaminarayan, the shiksha patri. live me alone, i never even liked to go to any temple. some of his ideas were simply away from my routine reasoning. even if working vigorously in the villages, he would not eat anything from the market. leave the market, he would not accept any kind of food from the homes of the villagers- not even as a reciprocation of love shown by the villagers to him! he used to keep chana and peanuts in his pocket. that was the only thing he used to eat while working hours in the villages.

most strange part of his personality, however, was not this. even though he had master degree in preventive medicine, to our gross surprise, he was against the routine vaccination! this was completely weird! it was digestible if an illiterate villager refused the vaccination but when you know everything about vaccines and the diseases prevented by vaccination, how could you refuse it? still, he did. probably that had some strong religious reasons beyond my comprehension.

but still, could you stamp dr mehta a half mad man like some of my seniors? just because he dressed differently?just because he had some ideas to work for the poor? just because he was religious? for those who work for some change in the society, probably had to face such a strong criticism some time in their life. history is full of such so called half mad people which has contributed enormously to betterment of our daily lives. to my perception, dr mehta was one of such person. his dedication, determination and truthful nature was unquestionable.

dr mehta remained teacher, guide and a good friend for life time for all of us.

CH 27 : THE ENCOUNTER

Most of the professors in our college, especially in 1st mbbs, were typical professors. They had a specific way of dressing, usually, wearing suit and tie, nicely ironed, well polished shoes, and tidy haircut and always clean shaved. As for example, take dr mazoomdar, head of deptt of the physiology. He was seen in suit and ties most of the times and used to speak mostly in English. He had a halo around him. When he taught, his body language was like any professor teaching since ages! We also had seen real professors like dr s d nishith, an ex army man, teaching physiology.

Our dean was dr gulati, a pharmacologist, a very serious man,was always seen well dressed. His expressions some how appeared a bit concerned and tense. He had big spectacles with thick plastic frame. I never met him, rather may be because of his halo, some how, never dared to meet him. Our vice dean was dr rey, again an ex army man,who even though serving in medical college, probably still believed himself in the army! He had typical army like way of dressing and talking. I had to meet him couple of times for getting my identity card signed.

Barring a few, most of the teachers were unapproachable for a simple student like me. May be, it was because they were from different cultural background or mostly because my perception was so. for me and probably most of the other students, it appeared, professor of medical college meant a highly polished English speaking suit tied person.
however, if there are no surprises, it is not the life! It was a routine afternoon lecture of preventive and social medicine[psm], a subject disliked by most of the students. Usually, dr arya, who dared to teach richettesia (an organism somewhere between the viruses and the bacterial world, mainly responsible for trachoma, infection of eyes) in the very first lecture of PSM, used to come to teach us, I mean, to bore us with the subject.

However, since it was necessary to attend at least some 70% of the lectures to be eligible to give exams, the class remained mostly full in even such boring lectures. We were expecting dr arya in his routine professor’s suit, but that day, an odd man, rather, a highly odd professor entered our class.

He was lean thin and of average height. He was not in suit, neither he wore shoes, rather, even his chappals were not polished! He was dressed simply in shirt and pants. He probably did not care to do in-shirt. He had simple plastic framed spects and there was a big swaminarayan tilak on his forehead. His Hairs were immersed in hair oil. He looked more like swaminarayan devotee than a professor!

“ mitro”, to our surprise, he started in gujarati as he climbed the stage! “ maru naam dr rajesh Mehta chhe. (my name is dr rajesh Mehta).” And he continued in gujarati “ friends, can you all tell me why did you choose to become a doctor?”
He asked a very basic question. Probably a soul searching one for all of us.the class was a bit taken for a surprise.

“ when you did choose, you must have thought of about this. I really am interested to know about it. Can we go for a simple exercise?” his eyes were on all of us. “ I am giving you options. You choose from them and tell me.” The class responded silence as the agreement .

“ these are the choises… first, to earn a lot of money, secondly, to earn and to serve the society, thirdly to work and to see the god… be honest.. this has nothing to do with either your curriculum or exams..” and he started asking from the first bench onwards.

Almost all students chose the second option. but many of honest students emphasized on good earning too that made dr. Mehta happier. For me, money was not important at that time, I must confess. And my idea was mainly to serve the masses for which I left my much liked physics and engineering career while choosing branch at the time of counseling after routine 12 std exam results.

As far as seeing god, no way! Even a half believer at that time, I never had a zeal to encounter god. if suppose, i some how saw god, what difference would it make to others?would it improve their lives anyway? It probably was not important to see god but was important to care for his creation as I believed at that time.
So, for me too, it was the second option when was asked.
“ I really am happy. Almost all of you are truthful.do you know with what dream i entered the medical college?” Said dr mehta, looking deeper in his own heart.”i entered medical college dreaming to be a humble servant of villagers and poor people. through their service, i wanted to realize god. i dreamed myself going to interior villages on my own bicycle carrying essential medicines in a small box! friends, this dream, in a way , has not changed even today." he looked on our faces, unknowingly appealing some where inside." Ok let us now move to the subject..” he paused a bit before starting.


" do you know there are thousands of people getting dreaded disease like cancer just because of tobacco chewing? do you know so many deaths can be prevented just by saying 'no' to alcohol?....yes..probably all of you know this fact." he continued further in his unimpressive voice and un polished gujarati. "we need to spread this message to our people. we can go to people and tell them the facts,educate them and their lives can be saved."

"sir" suddenly i stood up. "sir how to convince those which already are addicted to alcohol or tobacco?"

" you can tell them the ill effects and tell them that they would die if the continue to their bad habits." dr mehta tried to convince me first.

"sir, such people would say they would die someday even otherwise. why not to first enjoy the life by all bad and good ways and then die?"as the students listened the discussion, i cited one of the basic argument of all the addicts. sir could not reply for a moment.

to this,whole of the class clapped!probably the claps were for my argument.this was very first time when whole of the class showered claps for me. i was a bit flattered and felt like winner. dr mehta raised his hand to stop the noise of the clapping students.after about a minute, when noise lessened, he said "you can tell them they would die an early, slow and painful death."

i sat down and dr mehta continued with teaching.this man was really a weird one! could you imagine such a doctor? he was not at all worried for the way he appeared to MBBS class and even to his own counter parts. no one asked us the basic question that he asked.and why should he be interested in asking such a question? may be he just wanted us to introspect. or did he really had something in his mind? when he spoke of his dream, i felt probably that was my dream too. though his voice was not impressive but was really truthful and was perceived directly from his heart.

at the end of the lecture, he said, "if some one from you is really interested in serving the poor, they can come to a small friend circle we have created. we have named it 'the health circle'. we meet every week and we go to nearby slum and do different health activities. i invite only those who really are interested. this activity is not going to help you in any of your exams. it will eat away your time rather. so you are welcome only if you really are determined ." and he left the class.

CH 26 : WELCOME PARTY:A SECRET REVEALED!

arrival of new batch remains ceremonial in any college. since ours was a rural college, away from the city atmosphere, we had advantage and disadvantage of being alone. we were like a small village where every one knows each other in detail! addition of 100 new students every year added new strength and flavor to the campus. seniors were,naturally, interested in juniors to make new friends and add to their groups.for the boys of the campus, a batch was perceived beautiful when there were more beauties in it!

to show and to prove how the ideal introduction of the freshers should be, it was our dream to organize an introduction party for our junior batch. we could not arrange it for our immediate junior hardik's batch but we could do it for the next batch.(vasu, chaula, chavli,kanuji).our way did not include any ordering, questioning or forcing anything. we wanted our junior students to come on stage, give their introduction and perform any item of their choice.that could give a chance to show their talent.demoralizing them in front of the audience or making them feel low by commenting very absurd was not a part at all.

at the same time, routine ragging was going on despite our opposition. from those happenings, everyday, some news used to trickle about the juniors. there was one girl which threatened seniors with police because her father was a policeman! one other girl was very smart and also fearless. it was heard,her quick answered made the seniors speechless!

one of the boys was taken to the terrace and was made to sleep on the floor in burning sunlight. we opposed that type of ragging. and so we had quarrel with our seniors as i mentioned in my previous blog.on the other side, some of the boys had no fear of ragging whatsoever!

whole of our batch took the responsibility of the event.we already were meeting every Thursday. we used that platform to organize welcome party for the junior batch. the best part of any of our program was, we never invited any so called big people like dean, heads of the deptts or professors to our events. so the events remained highly personal and liberal for all. also, we never used money for any event. a fine evening was chosen for the event. our batch mates invited all the juniors with a great zeal.

to our surprise, the juniors were very much talented.there were good number of stage performers.soon there was list of students who wanted to present something on the stage apart from routine introduction. everything seemed so smooth. but it was probably peace before a storm!

"whatever you say or do, we are going to teach a lesson to a girl in the program." one of my good friend warned me." that girl is over smart. she feels she can handle anything. we have decided to pull her legs when she comes to stage. we will not let her perform!" surely, they had the news from the routine ragging about that girl!

"that can spoil our event. i urge you to not to do any thing that ruins everything!" i requested. they laughed at my point nastily.
"neh, we promise to not to spoil everything but we definitely do something that the girl remembers for the life!"the red light was from the most mischievous group of our batch but we had no choice. i told the situation to my friends. since we never invited the big heads in any event, the events had to be self disciplined. we felt we should handle the situation as it arises. so despite this, we went on organizing the event.

the day came and we assembled in our lecture hall. we had a very big lecture hall having capacity of about 500 people.the hall was full with the spectators.there was no space to even stand in the hall.the bunch of the students which warned us also took their position. the noise of the students subsided as jasmine shah started announcement. if i remember, beji and anish were also managing the stage. juniors were warmly welcomed by our batch.

the juniors started performing. what would happen when that girl comes on the stage? that was the question repeatedly striking my mind. the event was smooth and all were enjoying the performance on the stage. i saw that girl sitting with her friends in the audience waiting for her turn. she was a fair lady, had boy cut hairs and European eyes.she looked a bit fatty and doll like. Would it be possible for her to perform? only time could tell. at the most she might have to leave the stage, or we might be forced to take some action on our batch mates. still, it was a matter of worry.

the performers mesmerized with their talents one by one.chaula madhavi and vasu sung nice songs as i remember. there were many more performers including vimpal, shikha, chavli, ronak, jeet.(correct me and add to this please)

finally, name of the "over smart" girl was announced increasing my heart beats. i really was afraid as any mischief could hurt her a lot on one part and could spoil relations amongst us on the other part. also, our ideal way of taking introduction of the junior batch was at a stake. now, this is what i remember perfectly- the boys started making noise with the announcement. who would save her? i thought.

to my surprise, the girl gracefully climbed on the stage and introduced herself.her hight was less. i felt as if she was not at all deterred by the noise and shouting by the boys.she confidently went on the stage and started speaking. as she started, the shouting increased, but she probably was made of iron. she was speaking as if the mischief makers did not exist at all! the way she spoke, all the boys against her simply were over ruled! all had no choice but to stop the shouting! her confidence was far more greater than any mischief makers would have thought of! she nicely performed dance with her friends crushing all the expectations of my good friends like a big bulldozer.

i simply was speechless.the girl was none other than soniya! hats off to her!practically she ragged all the seniors. the event was a grand success.

CH 25 :RAGGING JUNIORS?

(i must admit that even after having bitter relations with some of the seniors in those days, after wards, almost all helped us and became good friends. it was just difference of opinion at that time. i must remember sanjeev rao and sajan nayar at this point.)

when our immediate junior batch arrived, we were just adjusting ourselves in the campus because that batch arrived within just six months of our admission to pramukhswami medical college. but since we had grown a bit, we had our own ideas of first time interaction with the junior batch. memories of our own ragging was afresh. we, especially, hemant, tapasvi and myself were highly against routine way of ragging.bimal, vimal, anish, kapil were with us.

when the new batch arrived, ragging re started like a routine college ceremony. some of the boys were made to do things which were highly demoralizing. it all disturbed us a lot and we felt ashamed of being senior students and doing nothing to stop this madness. even some of our good friends turned bad raggers as they became seniors.the girls' hostel was also not an exception to such activities.( beji, one of our best friend, was considered a good ragger. i still do not know for what reason!)

hemant being a highly idealistic man, complained about all of this to the authorities. naturally many of our seniors disliked his action. we had some good and fearless seniors like jagdish soni and amiruddin kadri to be on our side. there were some good teachers who wished to see good culture in our college. notably, dr rajesh mehta and dr bhalendu vaishnav.

it was not surprising to find most of the seniors and even our batch mates against our anti ragging ideas. while some of them just enjoyed ragging the juniors, others rationalized their actions in name of "good introduction leading to good friendship". some students had feelings of revenge translating into repeating what they suffered as freshers like mother in laws seen in tv serials! we saw our own batch mates, which were highly against ragging at the time of our batch's ragging, turning raggers when they become seniors. some wanted to rag just to prove themselves superior and authoritarian, while others believed to do such duty to save the culture of the college.

A few had an argument that since the world was full of bad people and experiences, they were just preparing their juniors for such a world by ragging them badly! they simply wanted to make the juniors bold. so in their opinion, they were doing a great social work!

we felt ragging an in human and cowardly act in which a group of seniors would order some weird and demoralizing actions to a helpless fresh junior.

but to our surprise, many of the teachers had pro ragging ideas. some of them used to ask seniors " teach some good manners to your juniors!" so, made up of such a students committee,even after hemant's official complaint, the authorities did nothing to prevent ragging. thus , in a way we were in a great minority and figures of dislike in the campus.

however, there was something more to happen. one day just when i was going to college, rao, our student leader,stopped me near the boys' hostel staircase.

"what do you believe you are? we are not going to tolerate you... understood?" he really was unhappy.i had no answer. he gave me a staring look for a few seconds and climbed the stairs making noise of his foot steps.

even today, i am not knowing, whether there was any relation of the following event with what rao said.

for some reason, hemant had to go to his home for a few days. at one good evening, i and tapasvi just were entering the boys' hostel. we were stopped by some strange looking outside boys.

"hey you both! stop here. are you friends of that white boy hemant?" one tall boy inquired. "where is that (...)!"
"what is wrong? he has gone home" i replied.

" he has assaulted our sister. tell that (....) we will break all his bones if we find him!" he warned us "take this as our last warning. tell him to behave well or we will create hell of his life... ok?". they went away.

hemant mis behaved with a girl? no one on this earth could believe that! in fact he was a boy never interested in any of the girls of the college or outside(except one- with whom he married afterwards.) he never spoke a single good or bad word for any of the girls.

it was very clear to us that the out side boys just wanted to have some point to start the quarrel. it was easy to blame any college boy for such a reason. any one would be furious to such a false accusation.

when he came back, we decided to not to let him go anywhere alone. he was a fearless man and nothing could deter him from what he was doing. despite threats, he continued to work against ragging. later, in his own secret ways, he met the leader of those strange boys and resolved the issue as far as i remember. they were locals from karamsad and were told to give threat to us, especially hemant.

since we were the minority, our movement probably could not do much in our perception. but definitely, it created a firm opposition to raggers which had effortless dominations till then. (only, students of our junior batch, chavli, kanuji, hardik, padhiyar,sejul can comment more on the impact of our opposition)

i remember taking introduction of some of my junior friends in my own way. sejul was one of them i still remember. i do not know how he remembers this event or if at all he has the memory!

i met him at old boys' hostel in bimal's room. bimal, not a flagship anti ragger but definitely a humanitarian, was talking to sejul and rajul. he asked me to have some word with sejul. i remember requesting sejul to come for a walk with me and we talked on the way. i asked about his native and interest, told about mine. we also talked about our hobbies and i offered him friendship which he accepted and remained so till date.

some of our seniors asked us a genuine question. " boys, if you are against the present way of introduction, how senior batch should interact with the freshers? the must be some way. or there will be no interaction between the batches at all. what kind of culture do you want in the college?"

But we had ready made idea- we wanted to arrange an introduction party to our junior batch. the idea was to invite all of the juniors to the function and let them perform on the stage any thing of their choice. our batch was already meeting every Thursday.so the idea clicked.(see my next blog story)

CH 24 :CONNED BY GIRLS?

CONNED BY GIRLS?

[kindly hit "like" button if you like The story]

Any medical college class is blessed with at least 50% population of girls! So was ours. Our engineer counterparts were very poor ! they hardly had a few girls in whole of the campus. If you want to really feel “the ground impact” of reverse sex ratio, just visit any engineering college campus! Our campus was colorful that way. Also, there were many couples in every batch, making our campus lively real college campus.

Every corner of our college corridors was mostly occupied by one or other couple. You could see the senior batch’s couples happily riding on bikes, chatting under beautiful mango trees, walking holding hands late night on our no traffic campus roads, eating together in the mess, reading side by side in the library, or sometimes some couples were seen in dark corners and deep eucalyptus jungle of our campus.

Heena, my classmate, sometimes used to say jokingly “ I really am fed up with these couples. No corner, no tree, no reading place is without them! They are creating indirect pressure on all of us!!”

Our seniors rightly named our campus mini Switzerland. It really was that in all the aspects- beautiful, near the heart of the nature, away from routine life of a city, perfect for romance! Chemistry of our magical campus also started to have its own spell on our batch.

Sameer, one of my good friends, was a tall, handsome, stylish and fair boy of my batch. Also, he was my dissection and lobby partner. Because of late admission, a girl was added to our dissection batch- margi. She was a frank and friendly girl. She used to talk a lot with all of us. as seen in our films, after meeting on dissection table, shortly sameer and margi fell in love. They got wholehearted support from almost all the batch mates. while Their union was matter of celebration for all of us, Their news created a shock wave in the campus because they were just 1st MBBS students! Some people were really not happy with the news as margi was from a hindu family while sameer was a muslim. However, I must say, they made a perfect couple ! soon, their families agreed to their decision and they became the first official couple of our batch!

From our senior batches, there were number of couples. A surprising fact about all the couples was, we had never heard any break up at that time! The couples were respected by all, even the teachers. The couples were graceful. I must remember priya and GD at this point. They were icons for us.

For me, naturally, the subject of love was more of human rights than a personal one! Like in any college, There were many boys in line looking for perfect love. All had their own way of presentation. Some were stylish, some were impressive. I must admit I never was part of the line but at the same time I was not completely averse to it.

To my perception, I was an average boy, un stylish, non impressive. Most of the time, I used to wear khadi clothes. i Never used anything more than a routine soap, not even shaving cream! Khadi gave me probably a staunch gandhian look. Was not this enough to be a repellent for fair sex? Add to this my inclination towards one of the most hated subject by elite class and most of the medical students - social work and community medicine! My portfolio was still not over. I was one of the most irritant student of the class as I used to ask many questions to the teacher when everybody else wanted to complete the class. despite my un ending queries, I neither was a ranker nor was a scorer of my class. rather, I hardly was able to clear the routine exams…. nothing impressive! I wasn’t a sportsman. Skating, cricket, swimming, table tennis even chess, carom – I knew nothing. Yes, I was a bathroom singer and a half poet! I never had a bike. leave the bike, in fact, I did not know how to drive even a gearless scooter like kinetic!

As our first terminal exam approached, I started reading the subjects my way. On the day of the exam, we went to big lecture room of our new college building. We were given seats and the examiners started distributing the question paper. The exam was of anatomy. It was my habit to not to read the whole question paper and start answering it. Hilariously, I used to write whatever I knew at length- so my short notes looked assay and assays appeared like short notes! I never used to see the clock while answering. It was foolish, I accept, but It was routine for me to sacrifice couple of compulsory questions as I used to write everything including the optional questions!

When I was trying to prepare myself again for such “heroic” blunder, suddenly , I noticed a crying girl in the class. I gazed there and saw a girl crying and telling something to our tutor and supervisor, dr rakesh Gandhi.

Dr Gandhi, being a perfect teacher, was talking empathetically with the girl. He persuaded something and within about 10 min, the girl again sat down for exam. Why should one cry at all for such a terminal exam? Was it as important as life? Even if you fail, there was not much to loose as it was only a terminal exam.. It sounded ridiculous to me. ( at that time I was not aware that the crying spells just at the time of exam were awaiting to create hell for me in future!)

When result was out, despite coming from gujarati medium school, that girl scored the highest, while I hardly passed. In our class, she used to sit on the first batch vigorously noting down probably everything spoken by the teacher. While I used to ask questions in the class, she never did that.

I had very little information about her as heard from others. She did not stay in the hostel. She was a local coming from vallabh vidya nagar. While I was sharing third rank with shantilal in my v.d. high school’s 12th std class and was second last to get in the medical curriculum, getting admission only at psmc, Some one said she stood first in anand district 12th exam and was getting admission in all the medical colleges of Gujarat. She opted for psmc only because it was near to her home. I came to psmc all the way from bhuj because I wanted not only to be a doctor but also wanted to learn independent life. She used to wear thick minus glasses. She also was the shortest girl of our class. she was the youngest too as some one told me. I was the oldest.

She used to come to college on her kinetic Honda. Mostly, she was seen with beji and anu, on her back seat while driving in the campus. I never had spoken to her.
Once just after the class, she asked me “ hey neh, how come you ask so many questions in the class?”
“Just like that….you know..” I fumbled. She smiled and went away. She was jasmine.

For my college day’s poetry, Good friends like vimal used to encourage me in those days( as today!). vimal was kind enough to share my poems with his like minded friends. Also, he used to read my poems to jasmine.
One day, just after our anatomy dissection class, jasmine was out side the hall waiting for some one. I casually said hi to her.
She said “ your writings are nice, neh! I like them. you are a good writer..”
“ when you stand in front of sun, your shadow will appear far bigger than what you are!” I told jasmine “ it is because you are kind enough to praise me.” thus, gradually, our friendship got tuned in!

Soon after, jasmine became an uncontested 1st ranker of our class. the second number usually lagged far behind her tally of marks. There never was neck to neck competition for her. Competition practically started from the second rank onwards in our class!

Jasmine was very good comparer on the stage and she had natural capacity to keep the audience spell bound. She could handle the whole college mob with microphone in her hand. Her voice was as sweet as honey. I witnessed her capacity in our college function ‘brain wave’. She used to win extemporary public speaking competitions. She did contest in a personality game conducted by dr hegde and gave tough competition to raju panjwani, the 1st winner.

Our Thursday meetings were probably best place for our interaction where jasmine and anish used to be the default announcers.

Amongst the three, jasmine, beji and anu, beji was not only talkative but also naughty. Her gestures and behaviors were sometimes difficult enough to interpret. She was able to create a slippery and mysterious land of her own. Probably she liked to be of such sort.
Jasmine was very transparent that way and anu was a bit narcissistic.

One day, beji and jasmine came to me and tapasvi.
“ hey, can you be a part of our group?”
I, hemant, tapasvi and bimal used to hate the groups. We believed in friendship with all. Groups were perceived against our discernment of equality. They also had same way invited ramesh, a ranker of our class.
However, I and tapasvi felt there was nothing wrong in being good friends wether you name it a group or not.

“ that is ok. But we dislike groups. We will be good friends…”said tapasvi. They both looked happy.
“ so we are to meet at college terrace today evening. Is that understood?” ordered beji.and we agreed.

Back at the hostel, when hemant heard the news, he ridiculed us. “ girls and girls! You have fallen prey to them! Lattu thai gaya ne!”
“ hemant what is wrong with just friendship with like minded peoples? You name it a group or not. You also may join with us.” but hemant was staunch enough in his ideas as always.
“do you know neh, one of your group member had proposed to a boy while singing poem!! Now you are going to be part of such a group! Ha ha ha!” he made mockery of us. ( note : hemant was wrong. He had misinformation.)
That was not all. Bimal also had a very strong opposition. “ you have betrayed our ideas neh!” he said unhappily “ now you will do everything that we hated till date. I never can be part of such activity”

Still, they could not deter us from “joining” the group. We met on the terrace of the lecture hall.
CONNED? i still am searching the answer!!.... :))

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!

CH 22 :COLLEGE SECRETS :WINE (AND KETAMINE) HAS TRUTH !

WINE (AND KETAMINE) HAS TRUTH!

(I was not an eye witness of this incident but I am putting it here as was told to me… making minimal factual changes like changing true names)

Nishant was a real macho in our college. No one would dare to go near him. His speech was loud and clear. He walked like a tiger in the college corridors. He had a bike matching his body image. He used to wear a weird type of goggles when riding bike. Those weird goggles probably were a benchmark for him.

But this was not all. He was from a rich family and had everything a boy would desire to have. Rather, he could give everything a girl would desire from a boy. No doubt, he was a leader of our college.

“DO you know nishant? Girls of our class are dying on you.” Vikrant, his best friend told him one day when they were on the way to the library late evening.
“Yes I know…” he gave a flat answer not looking at vikrant.

“But probably I know whom you like the most.” Vikrant had something more to say. “I saw you staring at her many times... in fact you go to library just to find a seat near her. Am I right?”
Last few words were enough. Nishant stopped.
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean... you can not hide your feelings from me, good friend!” surety and affection in vikrant’s voice were enough to melt down the college tiger. There was silence for a few seconds before nishant opened his heart.
“You are right….apeksha… she is the only thing in the whole world I desire...” he stared deep in sky and continued “whenever I see her expressive black big eyes I forget everything. When she puts her golden skinned hand in her silky hairs, I get simply lost in her thoughts. Her smile gives me a zillion watt current. When she passes by, my heart stops beating. Faatko chhe yaar!”
“You are in love man! Go and tell her... what you are waiting for?” vikrant directly said what he wanted to. “You are a macho man. This is the time to prove it!”
“It is not that easy friend. I feel she has probably feelings for me but how can I be sure for that? If I confess prematurely then she may turn away from me. Many a times, still, I try to open up my heart to her but my brain becomes numb and my heart feels like failing at such times…”

“May be… if you wait for sometime, she may confess and make things easy”

Soon after, nishant’s choice became buzz of the campus. Every one was surprised how a man like him felt helpless when it came to confessing love to a girl! Probably all the boys knew nishant’s choice. The information also leaked to the girls very soon. For nishant, it was like…

Patta patta butta butta haal hamara jane hai,
Jane na jane GUL hi na jane baaag to sara jaaane hai!

In fact whenever some one referred to that girl, he used to use words like “nishant wali". Still, it remained impossible for nishant to go to her directly and open up his heart until a special incident.

Despite boasting healthy body, nishant had some anatomical problem in the nose. Because of this, he had a lot of problem in breathing at night. Finally the ENT surgeon decided to operate him for that.

A day was fixed for surgery. The operation was a small procedure. But it needed a general anesthesia.
“Hello nishant…I am to give anesthesia and you will sleep within a few seconds. Do not worry. There will be no pain at all...” the anesthetist gave him routine advice. Nishant was injected with a latest molecule available at that time. Soon, the procedure to correct the anatomical defect was started.

All friends of nishant were out side the operation theatre. Since ours was a small campus, every one knew about the operation. The procedure lasted for a few minutes. But mean time, gradually, whole of the nishant’s class gathered outside the theatre, including all girls.

At last nishant was out from OT. He was shifted to a recovery room on a stretcher. Whole of the class followed his stretcher. Everyone wanted to wish him early recovery.

Nishant looked half drowsy. His eyes were still closed.

“Hey nishant, how are you buddy?” some one asked.

In response, without opening his eyes, nishant just nodded his head. Everyone was happy to see him recovering from anesthesia.

Suddenly nishant started shouting.

“ APEKSHAAAA…….APEKSHAAAA….. I LOVE YOU!” everyone including apeksha was shocked by nishant’s shouting!

A confession which seemed very difficult even in private was made in public by nishant laboring under effect of the drug. The drug injected to nishant was the same that presently is used by forensic experts for narcoanalysis.

The effects of drug were known at that time also. It removes all controls and inhibitions on the subconscious mind. It was some one’s serious mistake that let the whole class to enter the recovery room when our tiger was recovering.

However, this story had a sad end. Since even after this incident, apeksha never showed any interest in nishant.


( fresh note: soon after our marriage, i had personal experience with this anasthetic molecule, ketamine, when i was injected with the same for a short procedure at resp dr ajay vyas's hospital. dr vyas, being friendly and jolly, purposefully asked me whom i love. i spoke jasmine's name at that time! )

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 TWENTIETH :SECRETS OF BOYS' HOSTEL : FOOLS WITHOUT APRIL

well friends, i was trying to write about our awesome experiences at panchvati slum with dr rajesh metha. but 1st april reminded me some events in our hostel. so over to hostel room no 19 new boys' hostel, psmc campus!

i have had little chance to mention something about my room partner biren, i mean, biru dada to put it more correctly! myself, tapasvi and biren remained room partners from day one to throughout our mbbs years.biren was from gandhinagar and his father was a govt servant. his complexion was a bit dark like me and was little short than me in height.he had typical amdavadi speech.while tapasvi was a giant, myself and biren were thin and lean weighing hardly some fifty kilos at that time.

biren used to speak very less-only when needed.but he had sound knowledge of the world he was living with. while i and tapasvi were living in our own dream world sometimes, biru was always in real world.far more practical.

"you know neh, why we all do study?" once he asked me.
" so that we be doctors."i answered wondering why he asked such a question.
"oh really? you mean is that the goal?" he really had something in his mind.
"what else?" i scratched my head.
"see, i can prove something else.' he smiled. okay, now he would reveal the secret.
"neh, you study and you will be doctor after sometime. so what next will you do?" he said.
"i will get some good job and will practice." i had a plain answer.
"and then? no plan to earn some money?"
"naturally, i will earn my salary."
"is that all? what next?" he was playing game.
"that is all...and then...." nothing more i could think.so i said"probably i will marry"- "yess! thats it!" he promptly interrupted my answer with sparks in both of his eyes.
" so neh, you have learnt a lesson. we all study ultimately to marry." he laughed and folded both his hands to make a heart shape and again spoke loudly "ULTIMATELY TO MARRY....!"

biren never used to hide his innate feelings despite speaking less. he had stuck a big cut out of his favorite heroine on his cupboard.he used to goto his home gandhinagar every week and used to bring a lot of tasty breakfast and college gossips especially about girls to share with us.

one late evening, when biren, myself and tapasvi were chatting in our room no 19 after routine tasteless dinner, one of our good friend entered our room. biren was sitting on a study table with support of his hands behind, while i was sitting on my cot and tapasvi was in his chair.
"whats up friends?" our friend appeared very happy somehow that day.
"nothing yaar, just chatting" i answered.
"hey biren, what is there near your left hand?" our friend asked biren pointing to a small glass bottle having some white crystals inside.
"you mean this?" biru swiftly lifted the bottle in his hand and pretended to examine it very carefully by taking it near his eyes. "this is...salt. simple salt." he stretched the word salt five times the normal.
" i think there is sugar in it."our good friend opined as he neared biru.
" hey man, do not try to taste it" biru hid the glass bottle with his hand behind him as if it was something like sugar admixed with real diamond powder.
"oh really? see, i cannot be fooled like this. i know it is sugar and you are teasing me." said our good friend.
"why should i lie to you? this is saaalt and i am not giving it to you at any cost."biru started controlling the mind game.

"you give me and i will prove myself." a bit agitated, out good friend rushed to the bottle.biru transfered the bottle from one hand to the other ans stretched that hand away from our good friend. our good friend tried to snatch the bottle, the struggle went on for a few seconds.
"ok ok.."said biru ultimately "you won. there is sugar in the bottle. i will give it to you but for god's sake, do not taste it!" biru threw his last yorker of the mind game.

our good friend, because of biru, had become so desperate to prove himself, grabbed the glass bottle from biru's hand.he opened it within milliseconds and threw the white powder directly in his wide open mouth.

ouch!! his mouth was full of salt! the muscles of the face of our good friend were stretched to all possible directions to make a horrible look of his face which we never would forget!!

at another occasion, one of our good friend was boasting a lot about himself and to his gross misfortune,biru heard it. all of us including some of our lobby parters were there in our hostel room no 19. our room was something about 20*12 ft spacious with the cots and three study tables.from the balcony, we could see jungle of our eukeliptus trees. it was beautiful scene.

i have forgotten the exact topic of conversation, but our good friend was boasting about himself being a real man.
"man, you have to stand up for the cause you feel if you are a real man! i do it and face the world.i never step back. a real man like me can shape his own future in his own way! i tell you, only a few man like me are having such capacity." he was preaching all of us as how a man should behave and how should he make himself.
biru listened to his version of being a man for a few minutes.then, without looking at our good 'real man' friend, said in a plain voice " see man, i do not understand whatever you are saying about yourself. the world will believe you a man only when you have something really between your two legs!"

"hey do you mean i don't have it?" suddenly our good friend's attention shifted to the unexpected attack.all of us were just stunned by biru's attack.
" i never said that but what i said is an ancient fact.i will have reasons to believe you otherwise, if you don't have that." my good friend was sucked in the argument.

"leave this! i can prove i am a man anytime" now our friend was almost screamed.
"oh really? how can we believe you? if you ask me, i will not believe anything without proof." still biru was purposefully looking away from our good friend just to drive him mad!

'you have your chance today to prove.prove it the way i tell you" what biru was up to? asking him to strip naked or something in front of all of us? i could not believe it!

"why should i prove it to you? who are you?" our good friend's face was seen grossly irritated

"relax man! i am nothing."biru chuckled " if you wish, you can prove or otherwise.."

"-what otherwise?"our good friend stood up in excitement almost to attack biru.
"hey if you hit me that is not going to prove you a real man..."biru went a step back. " see....otherwise all these friends of ours will have chance believe what i believe right now for you..!" pointing a finger to all of us biru said

our good friend gazed us. we all probably looked serious to him. his face also turned serious.

"okay, what should i do?" he asked biru accepting the challenge.

"nothing. just show it!"
"show what?"
" the vital masculine part of your body that you are missing in my opinion!" biru was a cold blooded killer!

"no. that never can happen" he resisted almost screaming.
" see friends? i am right!" biru smiled.
"no! "he shouted " i am a real man!"
"then prove it!"
our good friend was highly agitated and was breathing fast. he looked desperate to prove himself.
"okay,okay..calm down... i have a suggestion.. "all looked biren with eager faces. what suggestion?
"you can show that to me in private and i will tell all the friends if you are a real man."

our good friend seemed puzzled but for him, i guessed, the suggestion was better than to strip in front of all of us.

"come on!" biru swiftly opened the door to balcony. still looked puzzled, our good friend went to biru and the door was closed.what was happening?

after couple of minutes,as we waited eagerly, the door opened.

"he really showed me!" exclaimed biru. " i never expected you such a fool!" biru told our good friend.
he looked very confused and depressed. his face blushed red. we could not stop laughing as we saw him.

" i really do not know" our good friend probably spoke to himself as grasped his head with both of his hands and threw his loose body on one of the cot. "why i did this at all? why did i listened to biru at all? but why me?"




what a mind game biru could play and win and could make fools without April!

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!