Towards a milestone

Nov-Dec 1994

I am confident of failing and I know this for a fact. All my past (mis) deeds are going to catch up, lift me high up in the air and dump me in the back of beyond. There is just too much to study and even with just two subjects to cover, I am overwhelmed and depressed. All of this is familiar territory, having been there and done that a few months ago for my first set of Univ. Exams but somehow this feels different.

My Send-Ups are here. Actually, everyone's Send-Ups are here. Rahul is pretending to be buried in his books and the only saving grace is that he seems to be in deeper water than I am. This piece of encouraging information has been conveyed to me over many a drink many a times. He has this "I give up, I don't care a ***k" attitude which is beginning to rub off on me. Shom, Vikrant and the Final Year gang seem to be the only ones looking gung-ho about the whole thing. I think they know that their torture will end, if not now, then after six months, even if they fail. Failing Final Year exams seems to be an acceptable part of Med School life. Unfortunately, failing First Year, especially this Semester is not acceptable.

My Send-Ups are not encouraging. In the Anatomy Practicals, I give a Viva on the Spinal Cord and it seems to be going on well. I can identify some nerve roots and I feel good. However, once the Viva ends, I realize that I was holding the entire Spinal Cord in all it's glory upside down. It's a disaster. I'll be lucky to just get on the scoreboard.
After the traumas of Anatomy, Physiology is almost an anti-climax and goes off reasonably well.
The Send-Ups end. I fail Anatomy, not unexpectedly.
The good news is that due to a scheduling quirk, I have nearly a month to go before my Univs start. On the face of it, this seems like a good thing but the sad truth is that one week will be spent in plotting how to study, one more week will go by feeling good about a well plotted plan, one week in ultra-panic study mode and the last week will be spent moping about lost time and getting suicidally depressed. This is the general plan of a study break, regardless of the length of said break.

Shom has decide that he will start studying at 5 AM and continue till about 10 PM. I decide to implement a plan I call the "Mid-Atlantic Time Schedule".
And my "Study" holidays pass thus:
Shom gets up at 5 AM and a book each in hand, we had out for tea to California next to the shacks where he studies and I think about what I still have left to study. He continues back in the room while I go to sleep because it's Mid -Atlantic and so it's midnight or so for me. I get up at lunch (morning), study till dinner (lunch) and sleep for an hour (siesta). I then study till 5 AM, when I have tea and sleep again.
This is how I spend one month of my Study holidays, in a sleep deprived fuzz brought on by a crazy study schedule where hardly any studying has happened.

3 days before Univs I am sleep deprived and completely off schedule. My sleep cycle does not exist anymore. This, on top of my woefully inadequate preparation leaves me in severe depression.
One night, about 2 AM, I make my way to the roof, stare at the sky for a long time, curse my major procrastinating nature and shed a few depressed tears. I vow to do better next semester, whenever that happens.
In the meantime, Ashley, my roommate in arms has abandoned me and is spending his study holidays in Navin's room. Navin is a Gult and for some obscure reason, is called "Monkey" or "Green Monkey" by some. Ash won't tell me why he's decided to ditch me but it may have had something to do with the state of the room and the millions of Gold Flake butts his parents had found when they came visiting.

In the middle of all of this moping, I walk into Rahul's room at midnight and find him guzzling a bottle of the finest beer in Pondy. This is a shock as Rahul, till 2 seconds before that moment, had been a sworn teetotaller and another one bites the alcohol dust.


Univs:
We have 2 theory papers, one each for Physio and Anat.
The Anat paper is OK. Quite good, actually, considering. I even manage to finish it, a feat seeing that I had left 18 marks unattempted in First MBBS Jr.
Physio is a bit different.

Normally, our Exams are held in Banting Hall, a big hall with horrendous acoustics that doubles up as an auditorium. People are spaced out (literally and otherwise) and or friendly illegal helping is tough.
Physio theory, this time, is being held in a Lecture Theatre. Apart from being fabulously Air-Conditioned, it's also a bit more conducive to surreptitious demands for help in an exam and I make use of this. One of the long questions is on the Cerebellum and for some reason, my brain just cannot recall this at all. So I request , a topper sitting right in front to adjust himself a bit.
He is extremely accommodating and the paper goes off well.

The Pracs are good. Stressful, but good. Anatomy is actually a series of about 7-8 vivas, all in rapid succession and although not all of them are good, I do well enough. I think.

The results will not be out for another 10 days. I will be at home then.
Exams are over. Hopefully, 1st MBBS is over too.

Mr Lal and the Court Case

October 1994

It's close to Send-Up time and I know I'm neglecting Physiology. Much of this neglect can be credited to Anatomy which is eating up most of my time now. Physiology as a subject is fine, much more interesting than Anatomy, but the book we read, although readable and brilliantly written, is not easy to reproduce in exams. This is Ganong and it is actually a detailed review rather than a core textbook.
That text is called Guyton and is written in simpler language and more like a nice, flowing text. The problem is that this book is easy to read, has a lovely flow and when one is done with a topic, it seems like one knows it all, but it just doesn't stick. It's like a story. You remember the general gist but the specifics disappear fast. And that won't do for exams.

Physio this semester is all about the Cardio, Respiratory and Nervous systems. There's a chapter on reflexes and how we all manage to stay upright in weird situations and what happens to us when our brains are (hypothetically) cut in a few different places. I learn words and terms like "Decerebrate" and at this point in my course, a lot of us feel decerebrate anyway.
I learn that the heart sounds are called "lub dub". And that Cardiac Physiology has a million parameters and graphs which are all supposed to correlate nicely, but don't.
Respiratory Physiology is confusing. I'm having a hard time imagining collapsing lungs and pressures in the chest and then lung expansions....And there are lots of "volumes" which range from "dead space" to forced volumes.....It's endless. The practical part of this had us blowing forcefully into a device which measured how fast and how much we could blow out. My values weren't too hot.
The Physio Dept is cool though. The Head bounces around more than walks and is a really sweet guy. Very nice in exams. Then we have Mrs V who has taken a few classes and although carries a sternish expression, is actually a nice lady. Prof T is slightly radical and has unique teaching ways. He loves to get yoga into his classes somehow.

Now that Spandan is over and exams are staring us in the face, there's not much action happening in the hostels. It's mostly a quick tea in Snappy followed by reading. Dinner is a time to take a break and get back to the books.

One day in Oct-Nov 1994
Our lawyer calls and we are told to be at the court one morning for our hearing. This is the big day. Courtroom, a hand on the Gita, the oath. witness box. I'm loving it already. Rahul, Shom and I will go. Manoj, who was also involved is not called and we are told that he may be called for a later hearing at some point.
The three of us discuss our testimonies and arrive at a consensus. While we know that we're all going to be saying the same thing, it's important to iron out any potential inconsistencies. We've only seen defence lawyers do their stuff on TV and the like and we all agree they can get pretty nasty.
So one morning, all 3 of us dress well (better than the usual college dress) and enter court.

The Court
Well, it's not really a High Court or something. The courtrooms are housed in chambers of a biggish building very near the beach road. I have to say it's mildly disappointing. There's lots of people milling about, some lawyers in black robes, some like us looking a bit lost. We find our lawyer who reassures us there's nothing to worry about. We also spot Mr Lal with who must be his lawyer.
The 3 of us are directed to sit outside one of the courtrooms on a bench and we do that, twiddling thumbs and I know I'm slightly anxious. I assume all of us will be called in together, but that is not the case. I am going first, followed by Rahul and Shom and we will not be allowed to hear each other's testimonies.

I enter. It's not like on TV. It's a room, big enough for about 30 people to sit, with a judge's desk and someone to take notes sitting by the side. I don't see a typewriter. Of course, there are the typical wooden witness stands.
I take one of them. Mr Lal stands in the other directly across and this time, I try my best to make eye contact.
The judge arrives, black robe and all, and we stand. (I was standing anyway since there as no chair in the witness box).
Judge: "Do you agree to tell the truth and only the truth"?
Me: "Yes, Your Honour"

Mr Lal also swears to tell the truth. There is no Gita, no sacred oath. Damn.

Our lawyer starts first. I narrate the incidents of the day and as I say "He BARGED into the room", there is an interruption. The judge (or the secretary) wants to know how to spell BARGED. So, in the middle of an exciting, flowing narrative, I stop and spell B-A-R-G-E-D. And proceed.
Lawyer: "What were you doing in the room at the time?"
Me: "Discussing Medical subjects".

We carry on. I am shown the knife which I identify as the one with the steel blade and the green handle. It's a smooth enough process and I'm quite happy with the whole thing.
Then, it's cross examination time. And it's not quite so smooth. I'll call Mr Lal's lawyer "LL".

LL: "I put it to you that you were drinking alcohol and not discussing medicine"
Me: "No, that is not true"
LL: " I put it to you that you did not see the knife or my client threatening anyone"
Me: "No, that is untrue".

....it went on like this. After a while I got bored of saying "untrue" and said "No, that is a lie". LL was getting a bit fed up with the whole thing and turned to the judge and said, "Your Honour, I'll have to treat this witness as hostile, with your permission". The permission was granted. I was now hostile.
Now, at the time, I thought this was a rather cool thing to be. It was like I was the aggressive, aggrieved man determined to set a wrong right and was being hostile to my opponent, Mr Lal.
Obviously, in legalese, "hostile" is not a nice thing to be, which, because I knew no legalese, is NOT my fault.

I finished, feeling a bit confused but relieved. Lal was expressionless throughout. Rahul and Shom went up after me and pretty much said the same things.
Manoj, we learnt, was going to be called a month later. We said our thank you's to our lawyer, got on our bikes and went back to college feeling like minor celebrities who were not going to pass Univ. exams if major reading was not done "sharp-sharp"

After this:
Reading continues. Life is normal again. Rahul is very panicky and is on the verge of giving up and leaving all to God. So am I and many others. However, I don't think God will come and impart pearls of wisdom in the middle of the exam so it's all up to us. Failing in this set of exams will be a disaster since I will move into the "Additional " Batch and not only will I have to repeat the failed exams in 6 months, but I'll forever be separated from my main batch. That is a big deal.

Shom is into Fast Forward mode. Pages are flying like never before. Each time I venture into his room, there is just silence as he is reading and gossip is not encouraged. Final Year is a whole different ball game, one I hope to play in 3 years time.
He is also short of attendance in Surgery, along with a few others, so they approach the Head and are told to attend Casualty (A&E) for 4-5 hours every day during their study holidays to make up. This seems better than getting stopped due to lack of attendance and this is what the bunch of them plan to do.
Vikrant is not one of this bunch. He's always been the regular, studious type although not a nerd by any means. He keeps reading only Harrison's, the bible of Internal Medicine, and is cocksure that he'll get through any exam. He is aiming for the Gold Medal in Medicine, an award that will be decided by performances in the Send-Ups.

I am simply aiming to pass.....My Send-Ups start really soon

Post Spandan Blues

Post Spandan 1994

I arrive, a bag in hand, to find a campus soaked in doom and gloom. Some evidence of a recently concluded Spandan is strewn about in the form of scattered chairs, sofas, rubbish, makeshift sports stands all being viewed by students with dull, vacant and mildly panicky expressions.
The end of Spandan, of course also signals the end of a 2-3 month long relative break from the rigours of medical college life and most batches have University Exams in 3 months. This includes me and I am more than a little panicky. In this semester, the stakes in an exam are raised higher since failure will mean that I drop 6 months and move on to an "Additional Batch".

Also happening is the NeuroAnat test which of course, I am bunking. The syllabus and reading is not particularly tough and I quite like NeuroAnat but it feels "different" and slighty rebellious to bunk it. This gambit  will work only if I do well in the Send-Ups so I've just given myself another unnecessary reason to raise my already escalating tension levels.
On the afternoon of the test, I give Ash a "good luck" send-off, listen to his "Bas****, come man, write it.. or "Come da, what can happen, anyway we're gonna fail" pleas for me to change my mind, close the door and drift off into dreamland. I sleep for about an hour before Rahul comes back from class, kicks the door (standard, no one knocks) and drags me to Snappy for an extended session of tea and rolls.

Snappy opens by 4 PM and we are the first to arrive. Slowly, I see my classmates arrive, trooping back from the test and other classes. Some ask if I was OK since I didn't come for the test, some don't bother, some carry on striaght pass Snappy and into their respective rooms.
A funny feeling grips me. I'm feeling very left out. I can feel eyes on me and I imagine people saying "That as**ole bunked it, he won't pass Univs" or thoughts to that effect. Everyone is talking about the test, what questions came, how easy/murderous they were and how there's never enough time to answer anything. I can't contribute to this at all. I feel like a bit of a pariah, not a bravado filled test bunker.
In the first few days after my bunked test, I still feel that all the lecturers are looking at me like I'm some sort of a pariah. Of course, I realize soon enough that nothing of the sort is happening and they have many more students to worry about.

I, on the other hand, have a court case on my hands. Rahul and Shom are the other invitees in this debut court drama for all of us and we are supposed to go in about 2 weeks time. We spend a few evenings sitting in Shom's room discussing what we should say, since even though we are going to say the 'whole truth and nothing but the truth', we need to be consistent. The first thing we decide is that if and when asked what we were up to in the room at the time of the incident, we shall say we were discussing medical subjects. And being medical students with not much of a life outside medicine, that's indeed what we were doing. We recall the events of that fateful day, have a laugh about my "dosa" dreams when attempts at "gouging eyes' and "poking knives in stomachs" were taking place, mutter collective curses at Mr Lal, and a few good whiskies later, retire for the night. Shom, being in Final Year, abstains from whiskies and retires to reading Medicine, Surgery and Obs/Gyn.

As usual, every morning I troop in at 8 AM for the Anatomy Lecture Class. Held on the ground floor in Hunter Theatre, these tend to be rather boring but I need to attend them since I'm teetering on the brink of an attendance disaster yet again.
Anatomy is a bit like wine, it gets better with age. I find that it's getting easier to understand and remember stuff and a uniquely Indian book called "Chaurasia" helps to translate this new found confidence into writable information. The main book for Anatomy is an encylopaedic book called "Gray's Anatomy"  and this is entirely unreadable. Written in ultra fine print with breathtaking detail, it has it's devoted followers in my class but I've given up on Gray's long ago. This is where Mr Chaurasia (or Chauri as the book is called) steps in perfectly. A distilled version of Grey's, with thoroughly reproducible line drawings, this is a godsend. It's in 3 volumes and I've finished 2 last semester.
Chauri of course, is not the end of Anatomy. We need to learn Embryology and Langman is the book for that. There is an Indian version called IB Singh but I prefer Langman because it's a faster read. (And time is short). Then there is a book for Osteology but everyone reads Gray's for this. All of us have various bones stocked in our rooms and spend hours poring over ridges, holes and other miscellaneous features on them. Most of the confusion revolves around whether a particular bone is Left or Right.
These bones also form part of our Anatomy Records and we need to draw them seriously accurately or face a re-drawing. Naturally, the most accurate form of reproduction is tracing and this where I find a unique method of tracing without getting caught.

I sit on a chair and a "board" (a 2 foot square piece of wood used to support books when reading on said chair) is placed on it. A naked light bulb is placed on the chair and the book to be traced is put on the board. A transparent sheet is put over this and finally the record is put over the sheet. It's perfect and does not leave carbon paper smudges. The best book for tracing drawings from is Snell's.
Sometimes, inexplicably, it backfires. A perfectly traced humerus was sent back for redrawing last semester because one of the borders was "too straight". Most of the time, however, it's a perfect system.

Histology Lab is on the Ground Floor and it's door is guarded by a water cooler where we all stop to get a splash before poring over tissue slides, all of which look exactly the same. They're all pink and blue splotches and I have no idea how I identified any of them in the last exam and what I'm going to do now.
Next to this Lab and bordering a lovely piece of grass called Vesalius Square is the Dissection Hall. Full of disembodied arms, legs and pelvis last semester, it's now full of brains preserved beautifully and removed from their now dead previous owners. The stench of formalin is strong and it soaks into our white (but fast yellowing) lab coats. It's also got hearts and lungs which we study in detail and heads removed from their bodies. I've got used to all of this by now and even the smell doesn't really bother anyone anymore.
There is a book called "Cunningham" which details how to go about doing a dissection but I've never really bothered too much with it. I should have, because although Anatomy in general is becoming easier, I'm far away from being confident in passing it.

There is a door leading to a Photography Dark Room in one of the corridors bordering Vesalius Square. This has this peculiar sign typed on it..."Do not Open or all the Darkness will Leak Out...." I've never opened that door.....

The Department is populated by Senior and Junior faculty alike. Top of the chain is Prof L who is a dear. He's the prime reason people passed Anatomy last semester and I'm hoping to God he comes again this time. He's generous with marks, takes a good viva and is a brilliant teacher.
Also sharing 2 of the above 3 qualities is Prof B. He's taking our Head and Neck lectures and his classes are rarely boring. One can't even sleep in his class. Dressed always in a tie, a french beard and a flowing white coat, he cuts an impressive figure.
Prof BM is a genius. He can draw with both hands simultaneously, a feat I can't comprehend since I can't even draw with one. He's our favourite co-examiner with Prof L and indeed this pair came for our 1st semester exams. I've always seen him with a white coat on top of a white vest. Hope he comes again....

And that's why I'm panicky. Anatomy. The subject that might be my graveyard. 6 or 7 different books to read, 7 vivas to answer in rapid sequence and a theory paper that can test even the best read.

Rahul, I see, is also in panic mode. More than me perhaps since he has 3 subjects to somehow pass. Pathology, Microbiology and Pharmacology (which I shall soon learn, is like the Anatomy of 2nd year in that no one passes any tests). But, it seems, he's going home again for Diwali!!!! Ba**s of steel he must have.

The Final Year Boys are visibly agitated. No time to chat, have tea or booze. It's non stop reading here. Shom, Vikrant , Mishra, Plaha etc. have gone underground. Their last exam of MBBS is round the corner and everything that's been covered in the last 4 years is fair game for the exams.

And four of us-me in second year, Rahul, a year senior, Shom, 2 years senior to him and Manoj-2 years senior to Shom-we are united by a court case. That is now looming very near.

FIR's and Spandan Escapes

LOHA Day (about 11 PM)

............The door of Shom's room is kicked open with a loud bang. It flies open and Mr Lal, with bloodshot eyes and a menacing expression, is standing outside. He looks around, finds me sitting across the room, points one finger and says "You. I want to kill you".

My LOHA Day has come to an abrupt end.

It doesn't take long to realize that this can get serious. I had told Rahul, Shom and Bong etc about my previous skirmish with Mr Lal so they had the background information. 

Manoj, Shom, Rahul and Bong herd me deeper inside the room and rush out, shutting the door behind them. I am pretty much alone inside Shom's room, slightly curious and more than slightly afraid. Soon after Manoj comes back inside and tells me I need to go with him to Harvey House, the Post Grad Hostel where he currently resides. Also in that hostel is Sonal, his classmate and now a 1st year Resident in Surgery. Mr L is not outside. I run down with Manoj, get on his bike and we make a 2 minute dash to Harvey where Sonal has been briefed about the situation and is waiting. I am told to be there till I am called.

In the meantime, back outside Shom's room:
This is what happened while the door was shut and I was inside.
Mr L, instead of finding me, comes face to face with 4 other well built guys. So he says "You wait, I'll be back in 2 minutes". These are the 2 minutes which Manoj and I use to get to Harvey.
Lal comes back with a knife. This was an unexpected development. He finds Rahul, whose abdomen is an easy target. The knife is pointed straight at it and he says " I'm going to put this inside you". He turns to Shom and with the knife point inches fr4om his eye, says "I'm going to poke your eye out man unless you get me that guy (me)". His beef is with me not them apparently.
Some tense momemts later, Mr l decides that since he can't find me and no one else looked him in the eye, it's not worth a fight.

In Sonal's room, I fall asleep and dream of dosas.

While I am sleeping, things are not all quiet on campus. I am woken up at 4 by Rahul, Manoj and Shom and am told that we need to go to the Police Station opposite the campus to lodge a report. The Dean and the Director of the Institute have been woken up and briefed.
Rahul, Shom and I go across to the Police Station. This is a fairly large compound right across the road and the Police Station itself is a part of a much larger Police compound. When we reach and after a short wait are called into the Station House Officer ( yes, they also have House Officers, but they are usually Inspectors), it's obvious that while we are all excited and wide awake, the SHO in charge is far from being either.
I am put in charge of dictating the FIR.
We start with the mundane. Personal details. Father's details.
Me: My father is Secretary to the Governor of Punjab, in the IAS
Shom: My father is a Judge in the High Court.
Rahul: My father was the Chief Secretary of Pondicherry a year ago.

The SHO has now woken up. We are offered coffee, which we accept. He is all ears.
I narrate the whole incident starting from the 1st Mr L encounter, with PG's threat in the middle and finally a highly detailed account of the night. I was quite impressive, I was told later.
The FIR has been registered. It's a police case now.

The next morning, I call home and tell my parents of these developments. Dad says "Son, I'm speaking to a few people so don't worry, but in the meantime, do you have a glass bottle or two in the room"?
Me: "Ummm....Yes"
Dad: Then, break it and if he comes threatening to your room, smash it on his head" .
Simple, effective, but thankfully, not necessary.
I am also scared now, PG has backed off and has even tried telling me what good friends we are and that I should remove his name from the FIR. But now wherever I go, in campus and especially outside, it's always with company.

A few days later: 
The matter has reached court. Mr Lal has got himself a defence lawyer and we have an appointed prosecutor. One morning, I get the message that we are supposed to meet with the prosecutor in the court, so off we go. The court area is a stone's throw from the beach and on a lovely sunny morning, we go to court. There's a fair crowd, so naturally, we kill some time eating pancakes and drinking coffee in Rendezvous.

Our meeting is essentially a briefing on what to expect in the hearing. There is a knife with a green blade which will be an exhibit, we will all testify and so on. It's exciting and very scary all at the same time. I am going up against my tormentor in court. But that is still a month away.
I am going home for Spandan.

September 1994

Spandan, as always starts on the last Monday of August and carries over into the 1st week of September. The middle, a Wednesday or sometimes a Thursday is reserved for the "Fashion Show", always a highlight. Vinay has been recruited for this and has spent the last 2 weeks in the company of seniors like Raju (a tall, fit, apparently a basketballer) and Manish (a tall, fit, definitely a basketballer, footballer and academic genius) among others. This time has been spent in scouting various clothes shops for sponsors and strutting around on makeshift ramps trying to look good and practicing 'attitudes'.
The girls have also been chosen carefully and will go up dressed in various outfits to match varying themes. Some colleges will dress more skimpily than the others and it is this antcipated occurence that will draw the huge stampede like crowds seen in the Fashion Show.

The last day is the Sports finals and the Rock Show. The latter marks the end of Spandan and can last till the late hours of the night or even early morning. Special equipment is brought by the professorial bands that are invited and the testing and practicing can be every bit as interesting as the main thing. Security for the Rock Show, in the hands of a "Security Committee" is tight and entry is by passes only. Most bands play the seriously hard version of rock and the alcohol that flows (usually in the rooms) serves to enhance the headbanging and air-guitaring experience.

I shall miss all of this, in the first Spandan I will really have a chance to see in full. Although I am going home, always a welcome thing to do, I do have slight misgivings.

At Home:
Home is the same. It's great to see parents and my sister and my dog but I find my thoughts wandering towards what might be happening in Spandan, the one week that the College lets it's collective hair down. I make a few calls daily (no cell phones, so it's cumbersome) to try to catch some news. One sad event is that someone from Maulana Azad Med College in Delhi drowned while tackling the sea on a beach near the town.
The undercurrents near the beach can be very strong and we were warned to be careful. It's a sad event in what otherwise seems to be a very successful Spandan. Everyone I manage to talk to, especially Bong and Vinay urse me for having gone home and tell me in great detail what a rocking time they're having.....

One morning, I overhear Dad muttering a very confused "Thank You" to someone on the phone. The call was from the Deputy Director, my Local Guardian, who had signed the Flight Concession form and had read the "My sister is getting married" letter I was using as an excuse to get the discount. So, one, he must have been a bit miffed that he didn't even get a card (and I didn't invite him either) and two, he did the next best thing and called up Dad to congratulate him.
My sister is 15 and very far from getting anywhere near married. Not having told Dad f my devious ways to get a flight discount, there is much confusion on the phone but he manages the situation. Now I have to go back and explain this to my well meaning Local Guardian......

A few days later, my holiday ends. Rahul and I are on the same flight back and I reach the airport well in time. After check in , I saunter around, browsing through some books and waiting for a boarding announcement. This doesn't happen and my flight time is 15 minutes away. I discover to my shock and horror that I am at the other end of the airport and I need to run (a tough ask in the best of situations) to make it.
I do.
On the plane, I find Rahul, occupying his reserved exit row seat not looking too pleased at my last second appearance. I get a chance at revenge when I note that he is rather queasy when the plane takes off and hits an air pocket.
They have run out of meals. Not good. But they still have a "Captain's meal" and a "Crew Meal" which is offered and is gladly accepted.
Note: It's far better to be a Captain or a Crew on an airline. The food is superb.

We touch down and take a taxi back to Pondy. It's night now and the highway, lit only by the headlights of passing vehicles is smooth and the journey quiet and cool. The sky above, which I've only seen corrupted ny the lights of the city is full of stars. It's beautiful. On the way, I tell Rahul of my grand plan to skip the Neuro Anatomy test (which is tomorrow) and I get a pat on the back. He's been there and done that.

The standard refrain from all seniors is "If I can pass, so can you". This is reassuring but as our journey progresses, from the highway to Tindivanam, to the small villages by the road and onwards to the Tamil Nadu-Pondy border and I see the Pondy arch, the TB Sanatorium and Le Cafe,a small feeling of dread and guilt is building up inside.

There is nothing now between today and University Exams and I am very underprepared.......I hope I pass somehow....Much reading to be done....

And the Court Case of Mr L awaits. 

LOHA Day arrives

August 1994

These days are good. Classes, dissection and practicals go on till 5 PM but the time after this is very usefully spent chasing the babies, creating ragging scenarios and catching up on the odd test here and there. This is a time to take a breather from heavy duty mugging though and such times come just once a year in the Jipmer Academic Calendar.
To make the most of this precious time, we gather in someone's room in the evenings for a pleasant 'discussion session', always accompanied by the odd bottle or two.
We have graduated from "Bagpiper' whisky to "Bagpiper Gold". This is a subtle but definite change in taste and a step-up in cost also. While the plain version was just fancy toddy, this resembles whisky a bit more. On occassion, when the wallets are full, we splurge an extra 15 Rs and get a bottle of Gilbey's Green Label which only shares the colour of the label with its more famous namesake Scotch. It tastes terrible but we pretend to love this more expensive, and therefore, better tasting broth of fermented cereal.

One evening in early August
I walk down the corridor to Shom's room to join Rahul, Vikrant, Mishra and a few others for a 'session'. Walking along past the room doors, I come across a tallish, medium-set guy who is from Fiji and is enrolled in a Lab. Tech. course. I know neither him nor his name so I just nod at him as he passes by. A normal, polite nod, like an acknowledgement of someone sharing your space and time. He seems pretty drunk though and is swaying a bit. It's about 7 PM.
Looking up and nodding heads is not a good thing apparently. Mr L stops me, grabs me by the shirt and threatens to 'kill me'. He asks "You want to fight"? I'm a bit confused. All I want to go drink in Shom's room. So he clarifies (while holding my shirt) that in Fiji culture looking into someone's eyes means an invitation to fight.
This is slightly scary. Even though I'm in my own hostel wing, this guy is drunk and fairly well built. It's safer to just pass by. So I mutter something, and spend the rest of the evening drinking, chatting and generally doing what people in hostels do when they have nothing to do. The small matter of a "kill you" threat is forgotten quickly and dismissed as a drunken weirdo rant.

Another evening in early August..soon after
A few days later, nothing much has changed in my routine. The time before and after dinner is spent chatting and planning what to do on LOHA day, Curie day and Spandan. Accompanied by liberal doses of fermented grain of course. And intersperesed with Chaurasia's Anatomy, Langman's Embryology, Halim's Surface Anatomy, Gray's for Osteology, Histology atlases and Ganong's Physiology. And tests. And Anatomy records.
On one of those days, about a week after the above incident, I meet 'PG', the South African who is normally either in a drunk stupor or otherwise zoned out. When we have chatted before, it's always been civil and he's even shared stories of his much wilder days in South Africa, so it's a bit of a surprise when he stops me on the way to Shom's room and with deadly seriousness, tells me to 'stay away from my friend, Mr L'.  It's a serious warning.  Rahul is there with me and he tries to cool things down. But PG tells him to keep out. I get the feeling that PG and Mr L are booze buddies and I am being strong-armed here.
The message is that I should just forget the whole incident from a few days back and move on. No going to authorities etc. As far as I am concerned, that was just another stupid drunken episode, so it's OK with me, but I'm left with a mildly threatened feeling from a seriously well built, often drunk guy living a few doors down from my room.
When I do bump into him in the next few days, he's back to normal as if nothing had ever happened. It's a bit strange.

In the meantime.....
Rahul is going home for Spandan. Which is just not done. But the thought of 1 week off spent at home is tempting. I am looking forward to Spandan as much as the next guy but...should I stay or should I go? Hmm..It's a mildly truanty kind of feeling which feels very cool.
I decide to go. I'll go home for Spandan just this one time. After all, I have many more Spandans to see here and one miss won't hurt. I'm not in any significant committee anyway. And so the mental justifications continue. The thing is that since the "holiday" is short, about 5 days or so, I'll have to fly, which can expensive. Being a student however, I'm entitled to a  50 % discount but the College won't approve it unless it's an official vacation or I have a good reason and I need to state the reason on the application form.
I decide to get my sister married. That's a good reason. (Although my sister is 15 years old, but who's to know).
 I hop over to the travel agency at the end of JN Street, get a form, fill it up and submit it to the Registrar for his signature. Then I can buy my ticket home.
 I haven't told anyone about my plans yet. Most Jipmerites are very keen on tradition like 'not going home for Spandan' and there will be hell to pay. I'll face the music later.

LOHA Day 1994 (2nd Saturday of August)
It's here. LOHA-the acronym for Liste Osler House Association celebrates the main reason for it's existence today. The program for the evening includes some singing and dancing followed by the Open House, a Grand Dinner and the JAM-an extended wild dancing session held in the mess that's been cleared of furniture for the night. A DJ is hired, strobe lights are installed and typical headbanging music plays. A must-go place. That will happen after I'm sufficiently tipsy because I can't move a leg sober.

It promises to be fun and will be my first LOHA Day. Preparations have been on for a while-the stage in Lister Square has been decorated, Lister Square itself has some bright chairs and strings of the round lights we call 'globes', and the mess kitchen is very busy. Many people have been cleaning out their rooms for the annual visits by the Curie House inhabitants, a task which does not appeal to me in the least ad which I do not participate in.
Our plan is to see the entertainment in Lister Square for a while, then come back up to booze, go down for dinner and conclude by headbanging the night away in the JAM. Sounds like a good plan. The venue for all this will be Shom's room who is taking a break from playing "Creep' and burning paper in earthen flowerpots.
The Open House is something I can do without. I don't like to advertise my lack of room maintenance skills and especially not to cleanliness obsessed Curie House Inhabitants. There is a competition, I hear, where people compete for the "Best Room". How anyone can make the effort to dress up their rooms for such an award is beyond me.

LOHA Day -about 9 PM:
The drinks have started and people are filing in. Shom's room is quite well done. He has soft lighting, good soft music playing, the floor is clean and there is a mat to sit on. A huge change from the decaying environment of my room.
There's me, Vinay and Rahul. Bong comes in his trademark dirty pink shorts. Shom is fiddling with the stereo. Vikrant will join us in a bit and Mishra has parked himself next to the door with plans to scoot off to the JAM soon. Also in the party are Manoj, now a 1st year Resident in Orthopedics and a few others from the hostel wing like Chinta Arun who drop in, get a drink and reappear a few minutes for a refill. I am near the balcony opposite the door and separated from it by 3 or 4 people. Most of the booze is next to me so being the juniormost in this gang, I am tasked with refills and handing out the fried chicken.

LOHA Day-about 11 PM:
I need to go to the bathroom. It happens when one boozes....
Jumping over bodies that are getting inebriated, I go to the loo a few feet down and a couple of minutes later, come out where I see Mr L (the same one) walking up the staircase. I know from past experience that it's best to just walk on and so I make my way back to Shom's room where I retake my place opposite the door, separated from it by the same inebriated bodies.
A few minutes later, the door of Shom's room is kicked open with a loud bang. It flies open and Mr L, with bloodshot eyes and a menacing expression is standing outside. He looks around, finds me sitting across the room, points one finger and says "You. I want to kill you".

There is a stunned silence.

My LOHA Day has come to an abrupt end.

Some Babies and InterClass

June -July 1994

One of the slight drawbacks of having relatively more time in this semester is that I can actually look around me and see the gradual decline of the state of my room. Or, rather, my half of the room. Ashley is beginning to make some noises of changing rooms and about how filthy my half  looks. To my eyes, the only difference seems to be the cobwebs hanging down from the ceiling to the floor and the total disarray on my desk. Well, also the long-unwashed clothes lying here and there. And the open can of condensed milk which now has a green fungus growing on the sides.....And my white pillow cover which now is yellowish.....
Maybe he has a point.

We are all eagerly awaiting the arrival of our juniors. Plans are made and Bong, Rahul and Shom etc fondly recall how they got ragged and ragged in turn, how we can improve upon things, how to rag better etc. Most of this nostalgia trip happens in Snappy but sometimes we head off to town where the conversation continues over booze and food.
There are usually 4 of us for these trips-Rahul, Vinay, Bong and me. Only Rahul has a bike so there is a toss-up as to who rides pillion. One Sunday, when I am sleeping off a hangover, Rahul wakes me up and demands that we go inspect his bike's rear tyre. He's not happy for some reason. I find that one of the spokes of his rear tyre is broken and he's blaming me for this! He thinks it's because of my size and the pressure I put on the tyre and looking at his own size, I refrain from pointing out the irony of the sitaution. So from now, unless it's vital, I can't ride pillion. I have to take an auto. That really sucks.

Autos are a pain. There is an auto stand right outside the main gate and they are all driven by bastards. There is a strong union and they will not bargain at all. They also charge stupid prices to get to town or wherever but that's the only reasonable option we have. So we have Rahul and Bong on a bike looking important and Vinay and me in an auto looking like deprived school children, both sets of vehicles heading to a bar.

Our most frequent bar outing is a place called "Urvasi". This is a place located on one of the side roads off the "Ratna' road. To get here, we take the road into town that runs next to the campus (the Tindivanam road that later becomes JN street) but where JN street starts, we take a Right (at Raja theatre) and then another left. Urvasi waiters know us by face and we know the menu by heart. No one really looks at the menu anymore. We sit on dimly lit tables with naked light bulbs hanging from the ceiling almost till the table, grab some chairs, and snap fingers. Drinks are brought. Masala peanuts,Chilly Egg and some chicken. The food orgy continues with Chicken Cecilia and ghee rice. The former dish is a signature of Urvasi and has chicken breast smothered in a cream and cheese gravy. When unavailable, there is much disappointment. Baked Tomato Fish is awesome too.

Sometimes, especially just before a Ratna movie, we go to Tavern for a quick American Chopsuey. In Jaya, its some generic food but good booze.
Then there is SeaGulls.
Some places in Pondy are owned by the Government corporation funnily called PIPDIC.  Seagulls is one of them and as is the case with Govt owned places, it occupies a prime location by the sea. This is it's USP. The food is so-so, the booze is the same as everywhere but the location, with a rooftop overlooking the sea is amazing. This is also a favourite place.
One day, Vinay and I go there and order 3 plates of fried rice, 3 plates of chicken, 3 plates of another chicken and some snacks. With the booze of course. The waiter stands around and asks how many more people are joining us. The answer of course, is none. He looks suitably dumbfounded, but he will soon get used to this.

And there is MASS. Apparently it's owned by someone called MAS Subramaninam. It's a biggish place, considered to be one of the more upmarket hotels in Pondy. It's right next to the bus stand and has a decent eating area with awesome Prawn cocktails. When the money from home arrives, we come here. It's not all that expensive anyway. MASS also has one of the two 'floor show' areas in Pondy.
Rendezvous of course, is frequented after our initial mishap. It doesn't have a booze licence yet so serves it's beer in big teapots. The owner is massive, thrice the size of Rahul and hails from Kodaikanal. We come here for breakfast sometimes on Sundays where for Rs 120, we have fried eggs, bacon, sausages, baked beans, toast, coffee, juice and waffles.

When the occasion demands, the party shifts to the roof the hostels. Lots of people, someone's sound system, booze flowing, chicken from the mess and tons of gossiping and dancing. Some people are carried to the room at the end. There are also buckets here and there for the odd emetic accident. Everyone is invited.

Classes are getting a little more intense. In Anatomy, the Thorax is over and we have started NeuroAnatomy. There is lots of 'clinical correlation' which sounds excellent but is fairly useless because we haven't done any medicine yet and know no Clinical stuff to correlate any Anatomy to. This is supposed to be the new way of learning Anatomy but I think it will far more useful to do it the other war round.
The theory classes are for the most part fairly dull but dissection is fun. Brains soaked in formalin are cut and examined. These were someone's actual brains at one time. The brain looks much smaller than I had thought and appears totally innocuous from the outside. But well, it's the goddam brain.

Physiology theory is fun. Some extra-bright (or extra-stupid) guys in my class have decided that the book we read (Ganong) is 'not enough' and 'inadequate' for Respiratory Physiology. They have found a book called Best &Taylor which is supposed to be 'better'. This book is quadruple the size of Ganong and I cannot be bothered to read a brand new book now. The problem is that for this particular topic, Ganong is actually not that great and at the back of my mind is this nagging thought that perhaps I should look at Best &Taylor and see what the fuss is all about. So one day, I do. I look at the book, flip some pages and retire back to Ganong. There is no point kidding myself. Ganong will be a handful by itself.

One of the few joys of theory classes is that they are held in fully A/C lecture halls and apart from getting marked present, this is a major incentive. The sitting area in the lecture halls (Hunter and Bernard theatre for the 1st 1.5 years) is divided into 3 parts with benches going upwards. This arrangement is wonderfully conducive to sleeping in class since one can just lie down flat on one of the upper benches in full A/C comfort and get up just in time to answer attendance. This happens many times with the head count suddenly increasing at attendance time, eyes being rubbed and giggles being suppressed.
Proxies are another matter. Sometimes I am asked to give a proxy. It's important to know in which classes proxies can be safely given. Dr B's classes in Anatomy are a strict no-no. Most of the Physio lecturers are cool. I'm a slightly tense person when it comes to giving a proxy since I usually end up asking people to give them for me and so I don't have too much practice. When the time comes, I answer quick, no raising hands and wait for the next name to be called. Tense times.
Harpreet, the Sardar from Delhi is the only guy for whom a proxy cannot be given. He's pretty noticeable so he is forced to attend most classes in person.

A lot of Physiology practicals is about Lung Capacities and blowing into something which measures your air velocity, flow and volume. One experiment involves doing something to a dog and I skip this because I am a dog lover. In the 1st year, some of us were asked to volunteer for Semen Analysis.....I skipped the class where the volunteers were chosen..

It's all happening. InterClass will start in the next few days. This is serious stuff and some events like sports have already happened or are going on.
The crux of InterClass is the Culturals. Each class has a Cul Sec (among other Secs) and the main guy in charge is the Cul Sec of the Organizing batch. The InterClass  is a competition with points for every event and so it's taken seriously. At the end, all points from Sports, Cul and L&D are totalled up, the winners receiving a trophy.

InterClass also coincides with the arrival of the baby juniors and plans are being hatched, Aschoff or no Aschoff. Last Spandan, I heard this song sung by the guys from Christ College Bangalore...

Ar**oles, ar**oles, our soldiers went to fight
To fight for the cu**, to fight for the cu**, to fight for the cu**-a-ry
Fer**ng, fer**ng, for king and the queen
To fight for the cu**, to fight for the cu** to fight for the cu**-a-ry.
This song we will make them sing loud in Snappy. Hopefully lots of lecturers will be there.

I can't wait. This will be an awesome year.

July-August 1994

The last week of July. This is the time we have all been waiting for. One whole year has passed and even though we are 1st MBBS "Seniors", ours is still the juniormost batch on campus. Soon, that will no longer be the case.
A fresh batch into Jipmer usually arrives in stages. The first to arrive is a bunch of babies, fresh, scared and new, through the College Entrance Exam. They join around the last week of July and we easily make them out by their scared 'deer in the floodlights' look, the accompanying parents, loads of books and the sundry Hostel equipment like buckets, mattresses and brooms. There is a small store on the ground floor of Lister House, called the Co-operative Stores (Coops) which sells this stuff (not mattresses) and Vinay, Condom, Rahul and I (and various others) make our way from Snappy to Coops to stare some juniors down. We can't actually do too much since the parents are still there. Just a look is enough at this stage.

Ram is a Gult. This is obvious as he is speaking in Gult to some Gult seniors. He seems to be completely lost at sea and has a slightly shell-shocked expression behind his huge rimmed glasses. His walk suggests that he might be slightly tipsy all the time although he assures me (over a nice bout of ragging) that he does not, in fact, drink. The way his eyeballs seem to get 10 times larger when we try the old "should we inject this talcum powder like heroin' routine is hilarious.
As is his completely clueless expression when we ask " What expands upto 10 times it's normal size when excited"? ...and
" What is long, black, hard and full of se(a)men?"...and
" What is long, hard, has a hole at one end, hair at the other, is used sometimes in the morning and sometimes in the evening (or other times), and produces a white liquid on to and fro motion"?
These are questions we were asked and are considered good enough to ask this year too. We are trying our best to act lean (unsuccessful), mean (successful) and a general nuisance (massive success). Of course, the usual "Where do you think I am from" or "Tell that senior to fu** off" are staples.

Babu is also a Gult. He is nearly my size, so many food jokes are on him. "Lump of lard" is a nice description-this term binds the two of us together. He thinks his English is good and tries to answer in some wordy manner, which sounds a bit arrogant and which is perfect fodder for us raggers.

Then there is Reddi. He's from Delhi but is a Tambi from somewhere in Tamil Nadu so he speaks perfect Hindi and perfect Tamil. Reddi has made the cardinal mistake of telling some Basket Ball team members that he plays the game.
So...
Reddi now has to wake up the team (all the way from Aschoff to Lister) in the morning for practice, then practice with them (which is one of the worst forms of torture I have ever seen) and then get ragged in the evening. He comes across as a bit of a smarty which is a no-no for a junior. One day while he's trying to escape in the evening, we call him over to Snappy where he spends the rest of the day under a table saying "Good Evening Sir" to everyone there. This is done to deflate egos which we think get a bit inflated when one is an elite member of the BasketBall team...
There are others too of course. Like RR, another Gult. He is abt 5'11 and weighs a bit more than me. One boring evening, we ask RR to get under a chair, pretend it's the Calcutta Metro and he's a train and then we sort of forget him while we chat and head off to the shacks. Rangu, to his credit stays where he is when we get back. Trapped under a chair.

One evening, sitting in Snappy, there is a lot of commotion. A biggish group of students is coming down from Osler House towards Lister. There is a junior in the middle who looks like RR. There is also a Senior, (will call him Cap) who is the son of an official in the Administration. Both of them are in the middle of this gang and the gang does not look pleased. Cap is being dragged from Osler to Lister and this looks like the real deal, not ragging.
We get up and go to the stage behind Lister House where this Senior is being physically and verbally hit. The gang of seniors is seriously angry and it turns out that this sicko was trying to burn cigarette butts on RR and had shut him in a cupboard for a while. This kind of stuff is not acceptable here. Cap is at the receiving end of a lot of stuff and I'm thrilled.
The issue is brought to the Admin and he is suspended for 6 months. There is a line here. Rag all you want, but don't cross it.
Since I am perpetually late for class, some of these babies are used as human alarm clocks. So they make the trip from Aschoff to our room at about 7 AM daily, knock on the door, get shouted at (as a matter of routine), and then trudge back hoping they don't miss their own classes. This is a kind of revenge ragging because the know-it-alls moved the babies to a different hostel. I think it's the babies loss because as far as I am concerned, I know all my seniors only through my own ragging.

Concurrent with baby joining is the impending InterClass. This is a competitive event in the true sense of the word and is my first so there is lots to look forward to. Each class is taking part, even the beleagured Final Year for whom it's an excuse to chill out for just a few days (or hours). It's a bit like a Mini-Spandan and in fact, many people treat it as a practice ground for Spandan.

First, there are the Sports events. Footbal, Hockey, Volleyball, Basketball, Badminton and indoor games including Chess. The only sport I can play with any degree of competence is Tennis and that's not happening so I lose interest in the Sports events pretty quickly, although we are there to cheer our class, which it turns out, is losing at everything.
Then there is L&D. Debates, creative writing etc etc. and a nice take on "20 questions" called "90 seconds". In this there are teams of two which take turns to identify a person within 90 seconds. One team member knows the answer and has to take questions from the other guy but can only answer in "Yes, No or Maybe". This is tremendous fun. Major strategies are planned and executed.

The piece-de-resistance-is of course Culturals. My main interest lies in the Skit, the Ad-Zap and Cooking. (the tasting part). There is a lot of leeway to write and act whatever one wants. Lots of inuendoes and double meanings al lof which are taken in the right spirit helped along by the "Right Spirits". Humour gets top marks. Rajini TV, Vinay and I take charge of writing scripts for the skits and Ad-Zaps, a role we will continue to play in later years.
There is total freedom to 'sell' whatever you want in the Ad-Zap so imaginations can run wild.
My class has some talented people. Moa from Nagaland is the best guitarist I have seen play at close quarters.  Our class has Chakma and Neeraj as singing talents and Condom volunteers on the bongo. Mark thinks he can play the sax and he does. Our singing team wins hands down.
Some of the dance choreography is impressive and might be used in Spandan.
No inputs from the staff are either asked or offered making this a pure students affair. Attendance at all functions is never enforced but is very impressive. It seems the whole college is there along with lots of staff members sitting right at the front. What is also good is that no one really bothers to modify their skits and Ad-Zaps' language or script to suit the audience and this makes it a real expression of fantastic creativity.

The events are held in the evening on the stage behind Lister House and run from about 6 PM till they end, sometimes midnight or beyond. Even more fun than taking part is getting some beers and sitting at the back cheering our class and jeering the others. The addition of the babies to rag when things get boring adds to the general air of happiness and nirvana.

Cooking happens one day in Curie House. Once the judging is over, we rush over to try to taste the dishes but as it happens with my RasoGollas, I arrive too late. When the results of Interclass are announced, I learn that the race was neck and neck but that Cooking decided the winners eventually. The winners are the Organizing batch and I suspect that perhaps more than the dishes might have been cooked.

Not lost in this whole boozing, partying and singing/dancing is the fact that we are in Medical School after all and the days are still occupied by classes. Tests are still being announced and Anatomy is still screwing us.
Something weird is also happening with Shom. In Final Year now, he is reading a lot more and is usually found in his room. Lately, when I walk in, he is found burning pieces of paper in a flower pot and watching them burn slowly in his balcony. I think he finds this paper burning therapeutic. I join him in this ritual off and on. I can only wonder what Final Year is like one has to resort to this kind of thing for stress relief.
I am also hearing this song called "Creep" by RadioHead coming from his room all the time. It's a nice song and I don't mind hearing it all the time but Shom listens to it because he thinks he's a creep too. Because Final Year does that to you.

I have other worries, other joy. LOHA day is looming and the Semester just gets better.

No Juniors in the hostels!!

May 1994 Chandigarh
I get a call from Rahul (or Bong, or someone) and I have passed 1st MBBS Junior with an enormously surprising 65% or so. I even passed Anatomy comfortably and that is a huge confidence booster ahead in the next six months.  I am looking forward to a semester lighter in load, heavier on the stomach and the exciting prospect of meeting fresh, homesick juniors. I almost feel like my MBBS is over, but of course, the fun has just begun.

I am now 1st MBBS Senior! 

June 1994 JIPMER
The upcoming three months are the most fun in the JIPMER calendar.  Since I joined only in August last year, I missed the euphoria that starts in Late July with the InterClass competitions , followed in quick succession by  LOHA (Lister Osler House Association) Day and then Curie Day. I only got to experience the painful joys of Spandan but will have ample opportunity to delude myself for the next 3 months. 
This semester is a short one-from now to December and comprises of the leftovers of Anatomy and Physiology but the topics seem to be heavy stuff. Biochemistry is over and done with and I hope that I don't have to come across the myriad cell cycles and reactions that subject is riddled with. In Anat and Physio, there is an attempt at correlation between the remaining contents of the two subjects so that the Head and Neck and the Brain in Anatomy are covered with Neurophysiology and the Thorax is covered with Cardiac and Respiratory Physiology. 

Of course, a short semester also means that tests will be more frequent. 

As usual, I miss the Bong sponsored Rasogolla party. This happens because Rahul sits in Bong's room all day till the time is right, then shouts "Oye, aa jaao saale",(loosely translated as "Hey assholes, come"), blocks the door with his massive non-muscular frame while eating most of them himself. Trespassers, invited or not, are at his mercy and I'm way too small to muscle my way through. 

I decide I don't like Rasogollas that much anyway. 

Finally out of the misery of 1st year, I have some time to breathe and take in my surroundings without fear of getting raped or buggered.  

Shom is still there in 215 and Vikrant in 225-both just a few doors down. On  occassion they are joined by Mishra , Jain and Plaha-all Final year boys. The fuse has been lit under their asses and in a few months time, there will be fire.  
Upstairs in 321, there is Misra (without the H). He is from Kanpur, is in charge of  L&D for Spandan this year and is the star of his class and probably the college.
One day in the mess, I had asked him what "myositis ossificans" means. He replied by starting off with "well, myositis means inflammation of the myosites which don't exist in an adult, and so the term by itself does not mean anything".......If this is the way he answers vivas, the examiners are either super impressed or are tearing their hair out. I would do the latter, like I did that day. 

Kel, next door to Vikrant, is from South Africa, in a stupor most of the time and is very powerfully built. He seems friendly enough, especially when he speaks of unspeakable things he did in South Africa, things that ostensibly made him run away from the local authorities there and join a Medical college in Southern India. He has been in the same class for a fairly long time and is often seen flat on his bed at most hours of the day. 

Of course I have some classmates too...Apart from Chandan and Phani (who has moved into hairstyling and dancing overdrive) and the few mentioned before, there is also Vinod. 

Vinod talks smooth, has brownish curly hair and is from Kerala but has lived in Delhi. He writes poetry sometimes. For reasons that are never clear, he is called "Dodo".
There are 2 "Rajinikanths". One has the initials T.V after his mane and the other has the letter "R". So obviously, they are called TV and Radio.
Moa is from Nagaland and is the best guitarist I have heard live. Chiradeep, now called Chakma for obscure reasons will be our singer in the Class band and Condom has agreed to play the bongo. 

In the days leading upto InterClass, classes go on as usual. We are dissecting brains and hearts now and it is a lot more fun than cutting arms and digging out livers and kidneys. We're used to the schedule now so it's not that extreme. Prof L is still the Head and so there is lots of hope we'll pass Anatomy. Physiology has some experiments that involve decapitating frogs to see how they look afterwards. I'm hearing medical sounding terms like "systole, pulse pressure, hemiplegia, internal capsule etc " and it really feels like I'm in the right course. A big change from 2 months ago.

June Onwards 1994


...and so it goes. The same routine. Officially, we go to class at 8, stay there till 1, break for lunch till 2, and head back for more classes till 5. The time after this is variously divided between Snappy, the mess, shacks and outside rooms. There is no need to be actually inside a room since no one is doing much reading. The next three months will have InterClass and the Hostel Days followed by Spandan-the Big One.

The Hostel Days (LOHA for the boys and Curie for the girls) are organized by an "Executive". So we have a LOHA executive consisting of a Gen Sec, a Speaker and some secretaries. This batch is 2 years senior to me and is called the Executive Batch and therefore this is now the Batch of 1991. The only information relevant to Curie Day is that
 a) It happens
 b) There is food and an Open House where we can all go in for a while. (Note: The doors of the rooms have to always remain open at 15 degrees, in theory that is.)

InterClass is the first on the list of things.This will coincide nicely with the arrival of my own juniors but I'm hearing that from this year onward, they will be put up in Aschoff House for the first year, far away from the barbaric bunch of seniors we have apparently transformed into. The unfairness of this is staggering. We will be the first batch not to have the pleasure of screwing the happiness of our juniors right outside our own rooms, the first batch that will have to make the arduous trek to Aschoff and try our luck, and within Lister and Osler Houses, we will remain the juniormost batch. The Interns, previously housed in Aschoff, will return to Lister and Osler.

This disturbing piece of news cannot, however, deter us from spending our time usefully till the juniors do arrive. Vinay and I often spend a lot of our time in Snappy watching the comings and goings helped along with multiple cups of tea and the wisps of burnt nicotine and tar that accompany it.
I come to realize that most of the Jipmer student body (boys) can be categorized into a few distinct sets:

1) Those with girlfriends
2) Those without girlfriends but in active pursuit
3) Those without girlfriends, were in pursuit but have dropped out
4) Those much more interested in boozing and eating than girlfriends
5) Those interested in neither.....the nerds.

My gang is Category 4.

In Jipmer, it is not possible for one to just be 'friends' with a member of the opposite sex. If one is seen walking together for more than 1 day in a row, one is classified as hitched. Gossip can spread faster than fire here.
Some 'pairs' are obvious. They make no attempt to hide the fact and are quite happy seen together. Some guys will actively deny that something is up, but will mysteriously be very late for a booze appointment or party. The ones in Category 2 usually never arrive for a party till they become Category 1. Then they just get very late. So most parties are full of Categories 3 and 4. Which is perfectly fine.
Category 5 people sometimes make it a point to stop and chat for 5 minutes, probably image maintenance, just ensuring that they too, when they find the time, can stop by for a drink or a chat. Sometimes they will pass by silently with a look that says "Oh u poor guys, your parents have sent you here to study, and THIS is what you are doing"....We know that look and no one really cares. As long as we are all passing, no one gives a damn. No one is bothered about getting distinctions and sucking up to the teachers. In lingo, this is called "Balls to them".

Back in Snappy, Mr Akram, who runs the place, is calling me kozhand. When I shout out "Hey Chief, one Egg Chicken roll, one tea', the order is passed to the kitchen in the next room with "Get it for the kozhand there" or some such thing.  I have no idea what this means so when I ask  why people are sniggering, I'm told that it means "kid".
In any case, I'm his favourite customer and he knows all that I want by now. So no offence. As long as the food keeps coming, he can call me whatever he likes.

Kel calls Mr Akram "Chief". So from now on, this is the name most people start to call him by. It's simple, short and he is the Chief of our food pangs after all. Most people call Mr Akram "Chief" now. A lot of the evening after college life revolves around Chief and his Snappy.

In the evening, especially around 5 when the day gets over, a lot of the faculty also go home. Since many of them live on campus and the road to their homes passes by right next to Snappy, we spend an interesting hour watching the the smokers try to hide their cigarettes when they see someone approaching, or wish blindly at passing cars (especially if attendance is low or exams are near). This 'wishing' thing is irritating but I catch on quickly since everyone seems to be doing it. Wishing someone in front of you is the done thing of course, but wishing cars?
I learn the ropes quickly. It's a matter of survival after all.

The car is a Maruti 800, the old version. W know the number plate by heart. It's owned by a petite lady but with a fearsome reputation. I haven't really met her since we have not started work in her Department but she is one of those people whose reputations precede her. Madam, as she is known, is supposed to be on the lookout for people wishing her and supposedly makes a note of those who have the balls to pass by and not wish her. All of this is hearsay and to me it sounds very far fetched, but why take chances? In medical school, I need all the help I'm going to get. So when her car zooms by, we all nod our heads in unison hoping that she noticed. Sometimes, I hear that even in town, people wish her car "good Morning' etc.Sometimes, she isn't even in it.

Tests come and go. Reading is more manageable now. I actually pass an Anatomy test on Thorax fairly easily. Physiology is more concrete now, dealing with the Heart, Lungs and the Brain instead of Muscles and Nerves and Action Potentials. In dissection, I love looking and studying the features of the heart and the brain. Just holding the brain, even half cut, is a strangely awesome experience.
This is a small period of time between the start of the semester and the start of Baby Junior Arrivals (and InterClass etc). Apart from Snappy and the shacks, there is a lot of Pondicherry to be seen.

One of the things Pondicherry has in gross abundance is movie halls. Not multiplexes, but stand alone halls, with balconies, stalls and a feature unique to Pondicherry (for me)-the A/C box. Someone tells me that Pondicherry has 41 movie halls and the town is about 36 sq Km. Almost all the theaters shows Tamil movies so I'm a little lost there. The one that does show English ones is called "Ratna' and is in the middle of a very busy street that also has booze outlets (of course) and 3 restaurants nearby-Jaya, Lavanya and Tavern. Lavanya is going out of favour but Tavern has excellent American Chopsueys. Many evenings, we catch the 10 PM show after a brief booze/dinner session at one of the above 3 places (usually) and scramble for A/C box tickets. The movies are OK, the sound is amplified for the A/C box and the crowds are tremendous. I love it, though the Ice Cream served in the intervals could be far better.
Anandha, located in the other direction from Ratna, is the only other hall showing English movies with any consistency. It's much bigger, has a better sound system but the seats are infested with bed bugs.

In the middle of this little blissful semester, a whole town lies waiting to be discovered. It is finally time to step outside the gate.

Pondicherry is waiting.