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!