Chapter 48-Beginnings and Ends

Nov-Dec 1996

I'm back in campus after a short one week hiatus at home. My Univs are in 2 weeks and it's time to get going. This is the final stretch and instead of looking forward to the end of exams, I have mixed feelings.

In some ways, the MBBS course is a tale of two parts. Or maybe three. The first part is the drama and trauma of First Year with Anatomy and the many exam related casualties it can, and does produce. Few things can match up with the craziness of First Year, with ragging, mountains of books, tough exams and homesickness.
The second part is the period from 1st MBBS Sr till now where there is plenty of studying and tests, of course, but since one is now used to it, it's not that bad.
Then there is Final Year. I've been hearing about it since the day I joined. Who failed, why they failed, why they actually deserved to pass, why the ones who passed should have failed, who to make an impression on, who is a fair examiner and who is not and so on. All talk is exam and study centric and that has resulted in a sense of impending doom.
Final Year is when boys become men, when one can realize how "failure is the key to success".

I still have the Final Year Part 1 exams to get through though and it seems more like a pain than any source of tension. ENT and Ophthal are small enough to finish in one day and because of that, I put them off to the last possible day.
The PSM book is called "Park" after the authors. It's one of the better books in the course, because it's full of core information and is considered mighty important when reading for PG Entrance Exams. I struggle with it, from the initial chapters on statistics and epidemiology to infectious disease control and prevention of chronic diseases. Then there are the fascinating chapters on toilets, followed by the National Programmes and finally Occupational Hazards.
I have to finish all of this in one night since I have spectacularly wasted my study leave planning and plotting a study plan. That is now compressed into a few hours.

The theory papers start. Our first question in PSM is this:
"Write a newspaper advert advising the public on preventive measures for TB".

I draw a box and write "Dont cough, Cover mouth etc" in bold capitals. Crazy question. But PSM can be very unpredictable. One question is on Japanese Encepahlitis and some birds that can spread it. The answer is "Ardeid Birds", and as I look up and to my left, I see an invigilator walking down the aisle a few feet away and mouthing "A-R-D-E-I-D Birds"......
A little help is always appreciated.
ENT and Ophthal are standard papers. No problems there.

The Clinics go off well also. In ENT, the nose is examined with an instrument called a Thudhicum's speculum. There is a specific way to hold this when examining noses and some of my viva is spent trying to hold it properly in front of two amused at first, later a bit upset examiners. I am asked about lymphocytosis in tonsillitis and I can't recall Infectious Moonucleosis off hand. Apart from these minor issues, I think I have done enough to pass.
Ophthal is also OK. A cataract here, some instruments there, an OK viva and I'm through.

In the PSM Viva, I go first and manage fairly well. When it's Vinay's turn, he is asked to name a "Recent Event important from a heath perspective". This is supposed to be an Encephalitis outbreak somewhere close by but he doesn't know that so he says,
"Sir, there was a plane crash a few days ago in North India."
To their credit, the examiners didn't miss a beat and the viva went on about the "Occupational Hazards in Aviation".
(For details from the horse's mouth, please read the comment below)

That ends this set of exams. I should be happy but there is an underlying sense of doom and gloom. The party is over.
Final Year is here.

Chapter 47-Of Grand Vivas and Close Shaves

November 1996

Forensic Medicine is a peculiar subject. Well, atleast it's method of evaluation is. Over the past 10 months or so, we have had 3 Class Tests in this subject and apparently, none of these have counted towards Internal Assessment. These tests were held in the Lecture Theatres as usual, but we had been told by well-informed seniors that they would be "open book tests", with the invigilators choosing to turn a blind eye to all the shenanigans being employed during the test. These ranged from frankly open books and frantic index searching for the answers to blatant copying and direct questions..
The one purpose this farce served is to get us to open the books, if only to look at the index for a possible answer.
I now know why we were allowed this unprecedented liberty. They don't count at all.

What really counts is the Grand Viva. Over the past month or so, some of my classmates have already been subjected to this and soon it will be my turn. The Viva happens in groups of 3 or 4 students, all seated in a semi-circle in Prof Sharif's (the Head) room. A few pleasantries, like reasons for attendance shortage, are exchanged and the Viva starts. It's quite systematic and covers the entire book, questions moving from one student to the other, like a quiz show with pass/fail in exams on the line. One has to be alert all the time as an unanswered question is "passed" to the next student, which might be you. This goes on for about a hour.
From all the feedback that I've got so far, it's intense, extensive and needs a lot of focus.
The book is not thin, but the subject is fun to read. It has a number of definitions that must be known word for word since they are laws and a lot of stuff related to courts, injuries, bloodstains, post mortems and various other exciting things. This is a make or break Viva for me because, as usual, my attendance is on thin ice.

Studying for this Viva takes up most of my time. The rest is taken up for PSM, which I'm starting to like. I can't get a handle on statistics, a series of classes I went to sleep in anyway, but it's a once in a lifetime experience learning about the various types of toilets that can be used in various circumstances. From shallow pits to deep trenches to types of flushes and water tanks. And we need to learn their dimensions also.
Then there are the National Programmes. There is a whole long chapter on these. Programmes for TB, Malaria, Blindness...about 10 of them. When I started reading these, it seemed impressive that there is a proper system in place but now I have my doubts on how effective they really are. They just seem tailor made for bureaucratic paperwork now. Or maybe I'm frustrated and sick of studying and have turned into a cynic. That can happen at 3 in the morning.

A few days later: 

The Viva is today and I'm feeling quietly confident. 4 of us wait outside Prof's room and soon enough, are called in and sit facing him. Prof has an attendance register open to where our theory attendances are marked.
He starts with me.
He: "Why is your attendance so low".?
Me: "It is"?
He: "It's borderline."
Me: " Sir, I had Hepatitis".

By this time, the Viva has not even started and I am in trouble already. I'm sweating and cursing my attendance issues, especially with last year's debacle and "Hepatitis" was the best I could come up with. The problem is that with Hepatitis, one is laid up for a fair stretch at a time, unable to attend class. That could have been a legitimate reason, if true.
But,
He: "I see you were Absent for 2 classes, then Present for 3, then absent for the next 3...and so on"....
"Like", and here, with a serious face, says, "APPAPPPAAAPPPAAA".....
If the situation wasn't this serious, it would have been hilarious. I notice suppressed smiles among my fellow examinees, none of whom have attendance issues.
I manage to mutter something along the lines of how I really wanted to attend class and inspite of being laid up, managed to come for a few of them. All bull of course, and he knows it.
So he says, " OK, let's see how you do here".
So this will be it. My fate will decided in the next one hour.
Nothing like a little adversity to focus one's mind.

The Viva starts with 3 questions I can't answer and then, it's like a dream. It's my best viva ever. About 30 straight questions, answered pat, and at the end, I know I might have done enough to escape from my attendance issues. A narrow escape.
Vinay also has a similar problem. But his reasons, which I shall refrain from elaborating on too much, were spectacular and managed to move Prof enough so that at the end he was offering Vinay counselling and help and sympathy.

With the tension and drama of Forensic over, I turn my attention to the 3 week holiday we have between Send-Ups and Univs. With ENT and Ophthal considered "1 day subjects" and Forensic pretty much over, I only have PSM left to read and 3 weeks is an awfully long time for this. So, all of us, except Vinay, whose parents live in Bulgaria, decide to head home.
I drive over to the travel agent's one evening, braving the usual Pondy traffic and the road hogging pedestrians and book a flight home. It's a paper ticket and I am told to come back later and collect it. That done, I head off and spend the day in town doing what one does in a Duty Free town.

Send-Ups: 
The Send-Ups arrive. These are full scale rehearsals for the Univs and the ENT and Ophthal clinics are held in the Wards. Real patients, real diseases and real Tamil. I manage, since this does not involve very elaborate history taking and manage to do OK. There are cases and Vivas on Instruments, X-Rays, Audiogram charts etc and in Ophthal, more of the same. Cataracts, immature and mature (and hypermature), corneal ulcers, ptyregiums (something I also have apparently) and such sundry stuff. The challenge in Ophthal is to mug up the book verbatim, point by point and practically vomit it out in the same order in the Viva.
This is what makes the subject so utterly drab, boring and painful.

PSM is a little different. First, there is the standard theory paper, which is OK. Then, there is a "Clinico-Social Case" which can be a patient with either TB or Leprosy or it might be a normal pregnancy or a malnourished child. Our task is to take a detailed history from a social and community point of view and counsel them and so on. Not really from a treatment point of view. It goes off well and then there are vivas on various types of mosquitoes, statistics and some related stuff. A general Viva follows, lasting for about 20 minutes and it ranges from what we saw and did in our various postings in the previous 2 years to core textbook knowledge.

To cut a long story short, I pass.

I am going home the next day and so I'm just lazing around in the evening. Around 4 I head over to the Bus Stand to buy my bus ticket to the airport for my 6 AM flight to Delhi the next day. The Bus Stand is next to Mass Hotel and that done, I roam around for a short while and come back to the room and just chill out. I'm in the middle of some serious chilling when Anup walks in, sees the suitcase that I've nearly already packed and asks
"Oye, Got your tickets"?
"Yeah man. All done".
"Bus and Flight both?"
....
Shit. I'd forgotten to collect the flight ticket. It's now 720 PM. The travel agent closes at 730. That means, shutters shut and no way to get my ticket in time. It means a missed flight.
I'm up in a flash, flinging the door wide open and run down, insert my half key in the handle, and I'm off. I've never driven like this before, not even in a race. This is a full throttle race through rush hour traffic, full focus on the road, engine gunned like never before, weaving in and out, first out of the lights. The shop is in a narrow lane near the Beach and I reach at 729. The tires are burning rubber. My bike must have aged a few months in those 9 minutes. I know I have.
The shutters are half down.
But not full. I make it, get my precious ticket. My heart takes a while to slow down.

This is not the first time I have had a close encounter with a plane ticket. Last year, I had also decided to go home for a week, probably for Diwali. Shom and I went to town to get my ticket with me riding pillion and we got the ticket, complete with the Flight Concession form (50%), and then we went over to a dentist (Mr Baker Fenn on Mission Street) for some scaling, rounding off our trip with a cup of coffee sitting on the parapet next to the sea. It was a lovely, windy day and as it got dark, we went back to the Hostel.
Soon after, I realized that I don't have the ticket on me. I had no idea where it was. Now in panic, I took Shom back to town and retraced our steps from the travel agent's to the dentist, to the place we had coffee on the beach and there was nothing. I thought for a while and concluded that the ticket, just a piece of paper, must have been left on the cement parapet next to the sea where we sat and drank our paper cup Nescafes. That being the case, the ticket could have been half way to the Andamans by now.
I was devastated. No ticket, no home trip. Flight the next day, so no hope for a replacement. I had to call up home and tell them. So I went to Snappy to delay the inevitable.
 I really didn't want to go over to the phone booth and get an earful from the other end. But I had to, so I went acoss to the the Raj and Grace STD Booths where, while I was waiting for my turn, Bong came over and said,
"Come on yaar, let's have a tea first. Call up later".
Looking for any excuse not to call up, I went back to Snappy.
And found Rahul standing there with my ticket.

It's a miracle. Someone, a random stranger, had found my ticket on the beach, saw the address on the Flight Concession Form and drove the 6 km (and 20 minutes of mad traffic) to come over, find out who it belonged to, and hand it over. He gave it to Phani, my classmate, who gave it to Rahul, who was now standing there with a mix of gloating, amusement and resigned understanding of my tendency to keep goofing up.
I never knew who that person was and Phani never took a name. (There were no cell numbers then).

My parents never found out how I almost never went home.

Chapter 46-New Room , New Bike

October 1996

It's time to shift rooms. I need a room to study in peace and Lister has too many distractions. Snappy, for one. To get to Snappy from Osler requires getting down 4 flights of stairs and then a 3-4 minute walk across to Lister. I'm sure that this amount of physical exertion will be an effective deterrent.

I will be entering Final Year soon and I need a change of scenery. Rahul will soon finish and leave Jipmer and Shom has already shifted out. Bong is finishing Internship and will leave. My gang will scatter and I need to move and find a new gang, preferably one that studies also.

The two hostels, Lister and Osler are identical in design but are very different in personality. Lister is more sedate while being hip at the same time but is very looked down upon by the Osler Residents. Osler residents tend to think of themselves as God's gifts to Jipmer and strut around as such. However Lister has Snappy, so that's a trump card right there.
But Osler has better bathrooms. How confusing.

I have alluded to the "Missing Day-Scholar" syndrome before and I take full advantage of this. Day scholars, the guys who live in normal houses in town, can also take a room in the hostel and many times they do this so that an actual hosteler can live alone with his absentia Day Scholar Room-mate. I find such a room on the top of Osler House and one day, I get a Tambi from the mess to do all my shifting.
I shift to Osler 428 on the Top Floor. It's called Osler Top or OT.

It's a lovely room, much bigger than Lister 229. A double room facing the sea and one can see the sea from the balcony outside. The breeze in the evenings and early mornings is cool and fresh, and right behind the building, there are tall trees just about reaching up to my window. My neighbours include 2 guys from 3 batches down, both from the North-East, called Solo and Posting.
There is Anup Pradhan, a classmate from Sikkim who constantly underlines everything he reads and makes notes of everything also. He has reams of notes which he also underlines. Issac, also from the batch of 1996 pops in every now and then to listen to my horrendous jokes ad since he is a baby junior, he pretends to enjoy them.
Also, in this wing, in the single rooms are Lobzang, who has been there for a few years, Bhargav, a few years senior, who is usually seen with one leg draped over the corridor wall (we are 4 floors up), Vinod who is writing poetry when not in Curie House waiting for Shreya, and Harpreet, the only Sardar in campus. Anupam aka Condom also lives here. Anup, Vinod, Harry and Condom are classmates. This is also useful since Final Year is a lot about weeping on each other's shoulders and crying at one's fate, things which are best done with similarly afflicted classmates.

Vinay, however, is not pleased. He had apparently shifted to Lister a few months ago because he wanted to be near me with the grand plan of us studying together. Or maybe it made it more convenient for him to run across and call me for a snappy Snappy bite. I was oblivious to this whole strategy and when I shifted across, he was livid.
"Saale, I shifted because of you and now you are moving to that hellhole Osler"....
(Note: "Saale" is a mild term)
So now we are as separated in space as we were before but in opposite hostels.

That does not deter us from going over to get our respective bikes. I am really excited. I have spoke to Radio, our JSA President who knows a dealer (Harvest Gold I think), and we go over, with 42000 Rs in cash to get my prized possession.
It's beautiful. Black, with a greenish design and what a sound it makes! Soft purring from the engine, instant acceleration, smooth as any Yamaha. It's the RXG, a new model just out this year. I take it out very slowly and drive back to campus at 20 kmph, my untrained eyes peeled on the chaotic roads. Vinay has bought a Suzuki Samurai, a fast bike with a harsher sound, but with a riding position I find uncomfortable. Both are 2 stroke bikes and I wouldn't dream of buying one of the new 4 strokes, a bike called the Hero Honda Splendour. They're just not bike enough.
I get my number PY-01H 8927 and I'm all set.
Freedom tastes sweet. Goodbye autos and cockroaches and lifts from people.

Soon, however, I learn that owning a vehicle has downsides. I have made a habit of losing my room keys every now and then and many times I've lost them inside the room and never found them again. Locks have been changed many times. I've even had to unscrew the iron latch on the door once, break locks with hammers and pliers and sometimes, have had to enter and exit the room from the narrow window ledge at the back that connects to the bathroom windows.
This latter method of room entry is now not an option since I am 4 floors up and am scared of heights.

In any case, one evening after class, I take the key out from the bike ignition and lock the handle and the key breaks. It just snaps in half, really neatly. One half is stuck inside the handle lock and I'm holding the other half in my hand. As a test, I insert this half and the handle unlocks. It's a perfect break. But now I can't start the damn thing, so I call someone over to jig the wires under the headlight. Now, all I have to do is to insert my half of the key in the handle, unlock it, remove it and put in my pocket and just kick. When I arrive somewhere, I put the bike in gear and stop it, take the key out, lock the handle and put it back in my pocket.
It's complicated, but it works for a month before I decide to get a spare made.
I have a long history of losing keys.

Life is wonderful with my lovely bike. It takes me a while to get used to Pondy traffic and in the early days, I drive with eyes wide open, quite slowly, braking every now and then and getting suitably startled at every nonchalantly crossing pedestrian. It's not a steep learning curve, however and in a month or so, I'm all set, braving the crowds and traffic like a veteran, driving at nothing below 70 and zipping in and out of lanes. Typical Indian driving. Good fun.
Vinay and I also test our new bikes in town. This testing usually involves speeding on empty roads hoping no one appears suddenly in front of us, as Pondy pedestrians often do.
So, one late evening, around 12, Vinay and I are zipping along on the empty Beach Road when some guy on a bicycle comes right in front of Vinay. The Beach Road, fortunately has a few right angled turns at intervals and Vinay went full speed at 90 degrees with his bike nearly touching the road. One second he was there, the next he had disappeared. I doubled back, completely sober now and find Vinay parked in the middle of the small road off the Beach Road bang in front of the biggest Police Station in town. It's a testament, perhaps to the Police that no one came out, no questions were asked. Nothing.
We drove back to Jipmer rather more sedately.
Later, more experienced and therefore more careless,  we often race back to Jipmer from the Beach road, the finish lines being the shacks where a pre-sleep tea is the norm. This race is serious stuff. We start from the Beach road and race at full speed. The roads are pretty empty at 12 AM and it's exciting stuff.
It's not safe stuff and "PLEASE DO NOT GET INSPIRED BY THIS".
When a speed breaker looms, and soon we know all of them, I shift to neutral, ride the breaker and shift down to third for extra zip. It never fails to get me a few seconds ahead. When we reach the shacks, the tires are smoking and I can smell rubber.

The fun, however, is about to end. My Send-Ups start soon and then the Univs. There is a long gap between the two, almost a month which will leave just about 10-12 days of  post-exam vacation. This is blatantly unfair since the next year is massive and I need to recharge at home. But that won't happen.

And coming up in a few days is the Forensic Grand Viva.....

Chapter 45-The Parents come to town

End September 1996

My parents call and fix the plan. They are coming with friends of ours on the Tamil Nadu Express that arrives at Chennai Central at 7 AM. I'll go across to pick them up, spend a day or two in Chennai and head off to Tirupati. The final leg will be the Pondy trip.
Much has already been discussed, with the main focus of conversation being whether I am using the bedsheets and pillow covers I had taken back with me last year and if all my clothes are washed regularly. The answers to all of these is always "Yes". Dad will also be financing my Bike on this trip, something I'm really looking forward to.

However, my room is still in the shape it was when it was awarded the worst room on campus, if not worse. I leave for Chennai on the 3 AM bus and the three hours prior to my departure are spent in frantic cleaning and rearrangements.
The floor is full of loose paper and clothes. It is difficult to overstate how full it is. The papers are dumped into an open cardboard box and kept outside in the corridor. I have no idea what papers these are, but I don't have time to start sifting through them. The clothes are folded as neatly as I can do, which is actually not at all, and stuffed into a hurriedly emptied shelf in my cupboard. I get a broom and somehow broom the floor quickly and lay a coir mat on it so whatever dusty remnants remain are now hidden from view. Beds are straightened, new bedsheets are laid, new pillow covers (slightly yellowed from long neglect) are put on and cobwebs are dusted. Books are arranged neatly on the table and I put a nice blue tablecloth on it. A very underused table lamp casts a soft glow on my neat, clean room. It looks beautiful.
All the rest of the stuff is somehow stuffed into the other cupboard and because it will all fall down and out if I don't shut the door properly, I lock it as well. I'm hoping the lock will deter parental attempts at opening the door and having stuff fall on them.
After 3 hours of non-stop cleaning, the room looks awesome. What a transformation.

I meet the train at 7 and we all troop off to the Raj Bhawan where, by dint of both travelling parties being senior Civil Servants, we will be staying in Chennai. It's a beautiful place in Adyar with huge grounds and even bigger bathrooms. After a while, it's Tirupati time.
My parents made this trip about 8 years ago when I was still in school and a lot of that time was spent in Nalli's doing mind-numbing Saree shopping. This threat arrives briefly near Kanchipuram but we just make a quick stop for a brilliant "Thali" which has about 20 different dishes with unlimited rice and cost 45 Rs. It's a slice of heaven.
Crossing the border of TN and Andhra a short while later, we arrive at the footsteps of the Tirupati hill. We won't be doing the traditional thing of walking in the line and so an hour later, we arrive at a massive Guest House, booked no doubt, courtesy of the Local Govt. DC. The perks of a Govt. Job.

Quite apart from being the religious place it is, Tirupati (the hill town), has a sense of peace and calm that's tough to find. There is no booze here, or Non-Veg, but I don't notice all that at all. The air is cool ad fresh and one could almost be on a soul vacation of some sort.
Our "darshan" is at the lovely hour of 3 AM which, we are told, is a good time to catch the Aarti and get as close to the sanctum as one can. So after a brief nap, we are led for our "darshan" and a few minutes later, we are back. I'm more than a little pissed off that the darshans depend on how much cash one forks out but I keep shut.
Back in Chennai, with a day to kill, I'm looking at the movie listings and I spot Mission Impossible playing in DTS Surround Sound nearby. I've never been to any theatre that is remotely fancy and having heard the MI Theme, I convince everyone to go.
The movie, of course, is very good. I remember it so well because it was my first movie in such a theatre and when the theme started playing, I wished I didn't have to go back to Ratna theatre.

The next day, it's truth time. We head off to Pondy and I am really keen on showing my parents where I've spent the last 3 years of my life. My Local Guardian, Mr Prasad, also the Deputy Director here, has arranged Acco in the Jipmer Guest House and I park myself there as well.
We make plans to do the vital room inspection in the evening. The Guest House is a  10 minute stroll from the Hostel and as we stroll up the Lister House drive, I spot 2 guys in shorts (only) each with a beer bottle in hand.

Rahul and Bong.

They spot me too  but are unable to run away in time and so, I introduce 2 of my closest friends right there on the Lister House steps, each trying very unsuccessfully to somehow look decent.
Spandan had finished a few weeks back and in every Spandan the Mess is converted to a 'Catering Area' and given a fancy name. This time, it was "Bon Appetit" with the name written in large black foam on the wall.
However, 3 weeks have passed and some letters have been strategically removed. The name is now "On A Tit". I hurriedly drag my parents along.
And I open the door to my newly cleaned room.

After almost 15 years, I still haven't got it. My mother was almost in shock. She couldn't believe how dirty my room was. Dirty? I cleaned it!
A thorough inspection was done and of course the cupboard lock had to opened. Clothes, sheets etc all came tumbling down. But, dammit, till then, it was a clean room!
For the next few days, the room was always a topic of conversation.

We did the usual things in Pondy. Some shopping, a visit to Auroville and Matri Mandir, a stop at the Marbled Saree place and some good food. Apart from the room, the trip was quite a success.

I saw my parents off in Chennai and return to Campus to find that the Hostel Warden wants to have a  word with me.
Warden: "ALL YOUR PAPERS WERE SCATTERED ALL OVER THE VOLLEYBALL COURT AND THE FOOTBALL FIELD".
Me: Silence.
(Long Silence that is).

All those damn papers had blown out of the box and all over the field. Atleast he didn't tell me to go pick them up....

Sigh. I'm shifting rooms in the next few days and will get my bike soon.

I have another 28 months in Jipmer.

Chapter 44-Hi, I'm SchizoPhrenic

August 1996

My room, it seems, is the new topic of discussion. No one has ever seen anything quite like it and even the valiant attempts by Shom, as a temporary room-mate, were not quite enough to prevent it from winning the "Worst Room" Award, or as some were saying, the "Worst Room Ever" award.
I wish I was more bothered about it all, but I'm not. I have a prize to show for it, a lovely 6 foot poster of a castle in the Bavarian forest that I chose. Aashik got stuck with something else.

With LOHA Day gone, accompanied by the usual "Grand Special" dinner and the JAM, there is Curie Day to look forward to. For many people, this is an opportunity to finally pay a visit to their respective girlfriend's rooms (doors open at 15 degrees), and for many others, it's just a chance to enter the premises of what is otherwise off-limits territory. There is a song and dance routine put up by the girls, mainly from my batch, which is boring as hell and the dinner is far better on our side also.
Vinay and I don't have any rooms to visit, so after a while, we get out and go booze.

Coming up is Interclass and this time, being the Organizing batch,  we are the frontrunners by default. Our seniors are now in Final Year and have better things to worry about than Cooking and Skits. We are brilliant at Skits and Ad-Zaps (thanks to me, Vinay, TV, Vinod, Deepak) and we run away with the competition. Our music team, which has already won prizes at Pondy Engg. College (PECOFES) obviously wins here too, thanks to Moa's guitar and Chakma's singing. It's good to win, but nowhere as much fun as last year.
There is no need to do a Star Trek redux which is a pity. I personally think that that was a ground breaking event, breaking enough ground to get disqualified inspite of very liberal rules.

Something new is happening though. This year we are introducing the "Mr Jipmer and Miss Jipmer" competition. I gather that this is like Fashion Show where the wannabes sashay down a ramp extending down from the Lister Square stage and try their best to walk the walk and talk the talk. The event is scheduled for late evening and Vinay and I walk to the back of the stage to see what's happening. Lister Square, as expected, is packed, with some waiting to ogle and some just waiting to see who screws up the most. We fall in the latter category and it's amusing to see everyone take themselves so seriously backstage.
Walks are being practiced, last minute costumes are being adjusted, "correct" answers are being practiced. There's tension in the air. It's laughable.
A girl from 2 batches down is really serious about it. We try to crack a joke but get no response. There is a guy, walking like he has boils under his armpits, also dead serious but trying very hard not to look like he is.
Sheikh from our batch, who seems to share our amusement but is taking part nevertheless, walks with a "roll and a bump", a style of walking both distinctive and begging to be copied. He's famous for his walk.

Vinay and I spend half an hour watching this spectacle and when it's over, I get an idea.
The judges are told, quite discreetly, that there is another entry-a "Non-Competitive" one. There are three of them, doing their judging quite seriously. Everyone gets their turn, walking in, twirling their dresses, posing like they think they're models and answering typical Fashion Show questions on "How to Make the World Better'and the like. When all has been said and done, Vinay and I walk on stage together.

We're like conjoined twins-our entry is together.

There is uproar. We proceed to walk Sheikh style, "roll with a bump", in hastily practiced tandem, and stand in front of the stage, stare left, then stare right, make serious faces and finally turn to the judges.
No one knows quite what to do. This is completely impromptu.
We introduce ourselves.

"Hi, I am Schizo", I say. "Hi, I'm Phrenic", says Vinay. "And I'm SchizoPhrenic", we say.

The judges now have to ask something, keeping with the rules of the event. And so Rajive, a Surgery PG and 3 years our senior goes "What happens when you fall in love"?

Now I must confess I didn't really consider what I could have meant when I answer "We don't fall, we rise in love"....

More uproar, lots of laughs and cheers. Some are stunned. We are thrilled.
If there was a prize for this sort of thing, we could have been in the reckoning.

A few days later, it's closing in on Spandan. There is fever pitch activity, last minute screw-ups, last minute solutions to those screw-ups, general confusion and major bonding with classmates with some of whom I've hardly spoken before. Radio is in total "In Charge" mode, but to his credit, he never appears bossy.

Committees are finalised and Vinay and I volunteer for Reception Committee-the site of the A/C's and all the girls from all the Colleges. Anup Pradhan and Anupam are in this Committee also and it promises to be fun. We have the usual contingent of baby juniors who will act as human alarm clocks, waking up everyone for their respective Sports matches and us for our various shifts.
There is the PA system with huge speakers installed on the roofs of Lister and Osler Houses and the golden rule is always followed.
"No one from outside the Reception Comm. is allowed to say anything on the mike".
We, of course, are in the Committee and so we are the ones to actually enforce this rule, and as is the case with enforcers, liberties are taken, especially at 4 AM when there is nothing to do and profound boredom is at hand.
On the 2nd or 3rd day of Spandan, at 4 AM, Vinay grabs the mike and says "Hello, Hello, wakey , wakey". Then it's my turn, then Anup's and finally someone has the good sense to shut us up.
The sound echoes through the loudspeakers perched on the roof of Osler and Lister Houses.
This has repercussions.
 Manoj, who had so honestly mentioned that he had been drinking beer and not whisky during the Hasmukh Lal episode, and who one should never ever cross, has been crossed. He is a Final Year PG and is busy with his Thesis and is therefore, short of sleep and short of temper. He has duly been woken up by our pleas of "Wakey, wakey" and is far from amused.
The next day, when he finds us, and with his permanent faint scowl, demands to know "Who the Fuck was shouting at 4 AM", we express our ignorance and sympathy. And we shut up after that.

The rest of Spandan was as usual. Sheikh handled Informals and was a huge hit, organizing modified cricket matches on the Fashion Show Ramp and various fun and games, some of which were held in the blazing sun and therefore not very well attended. Being in Reception , we saw all of this, and often sauntered outside to grab a bite from the various stalls or just to sit on other people's bikes and look cool.

The Rock Show is the usual phenomenally attended booze fuelled head banging and air guitaring and with that, Spandan finished and now there is nothing to look forward to except exams, ward leavings, vivas, tests and potential attendance disasters.

...And my parent's visit of course.

Chapter 43-Final Year (Part 1) begins

May-August 1996

I am over the moon with my results. Truly. I have never ever been this close to a Distinction in anything and to be just 3 marks short (with a 6 mark question left blank) is, to me, equal to a Distinction. Which is how I convince myself that I had read enough for a while and deserved a break...

....Which, in a medical course, is a dangerous course of action to take.

6 months of bliss await. I have to cover ENT, Ophthal, Forensic Medicine and Community Medicine (PSM) for the Univs in December. These, apart from PSM, are not particularly taxing and the worst of PSM-the presentation- is behind me. This is the time when we organize the Hostel Days, Spandan and InterClass, and I intend to make the most of this time.

ENT and Ophthal have small books. The problem with Ophthal is that the book is terrible. It's got most of the information one needs, but there is no way to actually "read" it. It has to be mugged, by heart and in order of the points in which it is written. But there is no alternative because it's written by the HOD. So we have to suck it up.

ENT is better. The subject is easier to understand and the book has paragraphs. I can’t underlie points but I can underline paragraphs and I love underlining. I underline so much sometimes that everything is eventually underlined and at the end, it defeats the purpose.

I soon learn that it is not a good idea to put earbuds to remove wax. I am more inclined to put a key in to relieve ear itch and I suppose that's not a great idea either.

Forensic is a different story altogether. There is a book, of course, and class tests will be conducted regularly but Forensic results are often decided by "The Grand viva". This is a 45 minute group viva that is taken by the Head somewhere in October and is usually very intense. A bad performance here may mean disaster and so Forensic has to be read too.

The main focus of lectures and clinical postings is on these 4 subjects. Our main focus is on InterClass and Spandan, work for which has already started. We have had our class elections to decide the Jipmer Student Association Executive Body and the results are out. Radio is the President, a guy who competes with me in size, and is very likeable and very hospitable. I've been to his house in Pondy once where I was fed like crazy (I refuse no food) and sipped my first 10 yr old Laphroiag. He is the man in the hot seat and ultimately is responsible for the conduct and success of everything the Organizing Batch does. It also means he gets to interact a lot with the faculty for various things and that can be a double edged sword.

Being senior, I can now choose exactly which Committee I want to be and Vinay and I decide early that we will be in the Reception Committee.

Sometime later, my parents call and tell me that they will be coming over in August for a brief visit. A trip to Tirupathi is planned. While I look forward to this, a parent trip means that some things, hidden far away from view so far, will be in the spotlight. And my room will be in the forefront of this scrutiny.

We have had many conversations about clean bed sheets, dirty clothes, brooms and buckets and things related to general clean living. I can tell that although I make it sound like I clean my room daily and always sleep on pristine sheets, my mother in particular is not convinced. I am sure a trip to my room will be part of their itinerary.

This year has seen a few of my seniors graduate and join Post Graduate courses here. Shom in ENT of course, but there are a few others, a couple of years his seniors too whom I know by association. Joy is one of them and is a really cool guy. He's chosen to do Ophthal and has shifted into Harvey House like most single PG's do. Manoj is already in Ortho and Sonal is in Surgery.

Manoj , had in fact, been called as a witness also in the Hasmukh Lal case, but after a month of our own court appearance. This delay meant that we had pretty much forgotten about the whole thing and Manoj never bothered to cross check what we had said. So when on the witness stand, he was asked " Were you drinking Beer or Whisky", he thought for a bit and concluding that beer has a lower alcohol content, replied "We were drinking beer"..

This did not go down too well since Shom, Rahul and I had denied that we had been drinking anything at all and Hasmukh's lawyer made a small scene. It was just a show, though, since he had already pled guilty.

Still, Manoj was not happy and an unhappy Manoj is not a pleasant sight.

Joy, on the other hand, is happy all the time. We are happy that we have someone who can sign off our beers from the Harvey House fridge.

Just before the PG Entrance exams, Sirisha, now Shom's wife had come down to Jipmer with some of her friends from Delhi for the exam and I often saw Joy and Manoj sitting with them and Shom and Sirisha under the Snappy trees.

I'm hearing that something may come of that.

Shom has moved out and now lives in a second floor flat about 10 minutes away. I've visited a few times, mostly with about 5 minutes’ notice, or sometimes no notice at all and often stop by for a chat or a meal or both. He's even bought a computer and has just got himself an internet connection, one of the first times I have seen what an internet looks like.

It's amazing...one dials a number, hears some screechy sounds and with one click, we open the Yahoo homepage.

Wow.

One consequence of Shom moving out is that there is no incentive now for me to do anything about my room. It's in urban decay now and progressing quite quickly. During my 5 paper adventure last semester, there was no time to do any cleaning at all and soon enough, there are now lots of books, clothes, sheets, papers and rubbish all over the room. Most days, I just dump all the stuff from my bed on the floor to sleep with the reverse in the morning to make space on the floor. There is no carpet on the floor but not one inch of the grey cement can be seen. It’s all covered.

And then there are cobwebs. Long, thin strands of cobwebs. From the ceiling, floating gently downwards. Their creators don't bother me and I return the favour.

I've been planning to clean my room for a long time but I excel in planning and suck at implementation. So, it's getting increasingly unlivable and the best course of action is to simply shift to another room. I also want to move to Osler House in preparation for the rigours of Final Year because Osler is quieter and has less distractions (for me atleast). The move will have to wait till my parents leave though.

This year, our batch is the Organizing batch for all the festivals and cultural events and work has already started in that direction. The main issue seems to be sponsorship for Spandan, and some of us have started running around town trying to convince people how great Spandan is, and why they need our festival's exposure for their business. Not all of them are convinced.

I have done my bit by helping to get funds from businesses at home, they being quite happy to get their names in the Festival magazine as sponsors of the 'All India Inter-College Cultural Festival" that Spandan is.

While our batch is working at fever pitch trying to get everything ready, Vinay and I are busy in Snappy contemplating life and the slightly off colour sauce accompanying our Egg Chicken Rolls. Vinay has graduated from hard core rap to Jagjit Singh and when we sit in Snappy, under a tree right below his room, strains of Jaggu coming from my partially burnt deck keep us company. My deck now resides in Vinay's room, a remnant from a previous party.  

Around this time, Vinay's parents also arrive for a few days with their dog, Fluffy. Fluffy is a small Apso kind of dog, long hair and all, and keeps us company in Snappy. On the odd occassion when Vinay spots his parents coming back from a trip to town or Auroville, he snaps up and with a "Chal Fluffy" hurries back to the room and pretends to read.

Auroville...now that's a mixed bag. I have heard many stories of this place, from drug parties (surely a exaggeration), good food, peaceful forested evirons and the feeling of being an outsider when one goes there. I have never felt comfortable going there and seldom accompany Plaha or Chetan when they do go. Once, I heard, some guys went on bikes at 1 AM only to be chased by shotguns and dogs.

 It does have a decent eating place called "Roma's Kitchen". Mostly though, I use the Auroville road as a short-cut for getting to the beach.

There's nothing specifically wrong with the place. Maybe my misgivings are partially rooted in a rather unpleasant experience I had with Vikrant and Shom 2 years ago at a place called Satsanga in town. We had gone for dinner there, having heard about the food and the ambience and when we got there, were told by the waiters that "This table is reserved for whites". None of the tables were occupied.

We had a bit of a shouting match and it left a very bad taste. I never went back there.

I am just not an Auroville person. It gives me the creeps frankly.

I have started the ENT Posting. The clinics start at 10, so we duly troop in to a massively crowded OPD and stand there looking clueless. The OPD area is truly awful. Large, jostling crowds outside wait for their turn to be called to one of the rooms inside where I see 2-3 hapless Residents sitting in a small space with 10 people crowding them. It's quite a scene.

The OPD is divided into 2-3 rooms, each of which has 2 chairs for the doctors and the patient. The poor doc sits with the head light on his head trying to focus the light of a 100 W bulb shining right on his face. 100 W bulbs can generate a fair amount of heat and with the crowds and the lack of an A/C, complemented by a fan rotating noisily in slow motion, all add up to a hot, very bothered doctor. And, of course, the patients.

I gather there are 4 things that we, as Undergraduates, must know. In the ear, it's CSOM. In the throat, it's tonsillitis. In the nose, we have Deviated Septums and Nasal Polyps.

With my Tamil still in its infancy, I concentrate on asking where the problem is, rather than what the symptoms are. That way, I can narrow the diagnosis very quickly. Shom is also a resident here, but a first year resident is often hassled and he's mostly running around doing all and sundry.

The Head of ENT is a tall, lean guy with greying hair and a very mild manner. Everyone seems to be a bit scared of him though and I have been warned that when upset, his temper is a sight to behold. So far, we've been lucky.

So this posting is all about discharging ears, blocked noses and painful throats. I quite like it. It's logical and at least, unlike Medicine, most of the stuff is visible, which makes it easier to grasp.

Ophthal is a different story. Located right across the corridor from ENT, it seems, at first glance, more controlled and a bit more orderly. The OPD has about 4-5 rooms for various things like Refraction and Eye syringing, but I find myself getting enormously bored. There's not much to see and not much that one can actually see anyway. It's a small eye and has even smaller lesions. Our main interest lies in diagnosing cataracts and after a few, it's all the same whitish blobs in the eye. I lose interest, lose focus and can't wait to finish this posting. We spend our mornings here being herded from one room to another, catching a glimpse of a cataract here, an eye syringing there and some sundry things like corneal ulcers and ptyregiums. It's a big yawn.

All our classes are held in the OPD, with a poor patient as the guinea pig. These guys have come here from very far away, often after long bus journeys and now have to face a bunch of medical students, simply because they have an "interesting" condition.

I faced this myself when as a kid, I had to visit the Dental Department in PGI, Chandigarh. Apparently, I had phenomenal teeth (from a dental student's point of view) and I spent hours with my mouth open, saliva  filling up slowly, while various students inspected my lovely teeth and made appropriate appreciative noises. This went on for 3 years while I had my braces inserted, inspected, and finally removed. I can empathize with the Muniammals and Govindasamys here.

I have been asking Dad for a bike for a while now, and he seems to be coming around to it. It will make life a lot easier and his main worries are about safety. I promise to get a helmet and he finally relents. I am keen on a Yamaha, the choice of many a hosteler and unfortunately, the RX-100, the bike with the best sound ever, has been discontinued. Yamaha has come out with a new model called the RXG, and that is what I will get. Vinay is also in bike buying mode and he is keen on a Suzuki Samurai.

At the moment, neither of us are too confident with bikes so one day I take Anupam (Condom)'s scooter and proceed to engage the gear with the scooter in full throttle resulting in a lovely wheelie and a slightly banged up front.

Vinay, not wanting to be left behind, borrows Shom's Hero Puch and drives it like a maniac nearly killing everyone in the way.

With Rahul in Final Year and therefore mostly out of bounds and Bong in Internship and always busy, most of our time is spent with the gang from our junior batch. This smallish gang, with whom I'm seen either in Snappy or in each other's rooms, consists of

1. Reddi-Self assured, part of the basketball team, has a steady girlfriend

2. Ram-Slightly unpredictable when sober, completely so when not. Says "Bugger" a lot. Also has a steady girlfriend.

3. Babu-Built like me, shares foodie desires. A Brahmin who eats meat and boozes like anyone. Wishes he had a girlfriend.

4. Siva (aka Gunappu)-Shares boozie tastes.

5. Somani-A Rajasthani from Sikkim. Round, with spectacles, perpetually feels victimized by the profs. When asked "Bugger, how the fuck did you land up in Sikkim from Rajasthan" many many times during ragging, he eventually gave up and told the truth. "On a Donkey".

I am often found with some or all of these guys at various times of the day. A common theme is the late arrival of Reddi at a party because he also has to spend time with Sandhya and it takes him a while to wiggle out and come party with us. Ram, on the other had has it sorted. When there is a party, he's always on time.

Our poison has also changed. Or evolved actually. We started with Bagpiper and moved quickly onto Bagpiper Gold. That stayed for a while before someone got hold of "Gilbey's Green Label" which tasted awful but stayed with us for another short while. In between, "Cariba", the pre-mixed Rum and Coke, made an appearance and finally Aristocrat and Aristocrat Premium happened.

Currently, I am on ACP, as we call it, while the other poisons also float around here and there. Old Monk Rum is a favourite for the Rum guys and a new Vodka called Romanov for the Vodka guys has made an appearance. It seems a poor substitute for Smirnoff but it sounds Russian enough.

Various random events have happened at these impromptu drinking sessions.

Once, I ran full speed and proceeded to try to kick down Shom's door, succeeding in breaking the latch. It just seemed the right thing to do.

Another time, someone drank a full bottle and spent the night on the hostel steps, not even waking up the next morning when people were trying to avoid trampling him on their way down to class.

I have also succeeded in jumping on Rahul's iron bed, denting it nicely in the middle. This did not go down too well with Rahul who had to somehow conjure up another cot.

A new restaurant called Jaya has opened very close to Ranta theatre. It's a standard joint but clean and not very noisy and being close to Ratna Theatre, is perfect for a pre-movie drink (s). The Jaya guys are putting in some money for Spandan and so we often go there to "talk about Spandan" or "see how the place is"...

The standout feature of Jaya is that it has "Forrester" whisky. This is American Bourbon and is fantastic. It's almost the only reason for going to Jaya.

With this month being full of various Hostel Days, the first to arrive is Harvey Day, hosted by the PG Residents. We, as students, can go as someone's guests and we promptly get Joy/Manoj/Sonal to invite us over.

The USP of Harvey Day is the Beer Drinking Competition, something I've never seen before. There are crates upon crates of the stuff in the Mess and one has to drink an entire bottle without a break in the fastest time. The winner gets a whole crate to himself. I do give it a shot, but after 5 seconds, I know it will be futile. Since every participant gets to keep the bottle, I give up and take my time drinking the rest. It's not that good actually, but why give free beer a miss?

There is the usual JAM with the usual songs and the standard "Special Food".

LOHA Day comes around a few days later, in the middle of August, and we put up a Skit, Mark plays the Sax and some guys try to sing. The usual stuff really. The interesting bit is that our rooms are being judged this year and there are 2 awards-"Best Room" and "Worst Room". The prizes for both are full length posters one can stick on the walls. I give my name and then on the day, the judges roll around, inspecting rooms one by one, taking down notes and generally looking important. The guys who think they might have a shot at the Best Room Award stay with the judges, making sure they see every beautifully decorated corner. I, on the other hand, not harbouring any such ambitions, leave my room open and sit in Snappy till the Judges see my room and recover from the shock.

The results are in. Aashik from my senior batch gets the Best Room and I get the Worst Room. It was no contest apparently.

The funny thing is that I am asked what poster I want of the two available. So Aashik is stuck with the one I didn’t want....

Spandan is a few days away and then the parents trip. Its not a bad semester, this.

Chapter 42-Shom gets ENT

May-June 1996

I call up Shom, now in Patna, and hear that he will be coming to Chandigarh, my homwtown, on a job hunting trip. He is still waitlisted for ENT back in Jipmer but there is no news from there, so the newlyweds will try to escape from the joys of being unemployed medical graduates in Chandigarh. 

Shom's wife is from MAMC, Delhi and the two met up 3-4 years ago at the MAMC festival. I've only met her once but will now get a chance to know her better.

Shom lands up in Chandigarh a few days later and one evening, while I am on my way upstairs, I hear Dad telling someone on the phone that he doesn't know anyone called "GOLU". This is alarm-bell time and I rush down to find Shom at the other end, a little confused and wondering if he has the correct number. 

It takes me a good 5 minutes to explain why I am called "GOLU". 

Shom and Sirisha, his wife are stuck in some market near my place, slightly lost and hoping that I will pick them up, About half an hour later, a couple of drinks down, Shom gets a phone call from Chetan. Chetan is in Jipmer and has his finger on the pulse of whats happening to the waiting lists. A weird story unfolds.

A Surgery seat is vacated by Rias who left to do Ortho in Kerala. This Surgery seat vacant was picked by someone (Rajive) who had taken ENT thus leaving a seat vacant in ENT. Now Shom was 2nd on the waitlist and had pretty much abandoned all hope but the person who was 1st on the list and had started Ophthal (Basil) had already bought his Ophtahlmoscope. He considered this to be too valuable an investment to waste and decided to stick on to Ophthal. And therefore, about 8 PM, at my house in Chadigarh, Shom gets the news that he needs to rush back to Jipmer pronto.

He is now an ENT PG.

This means that I will have a place to go to for dinners every now and then since he will take a house outside campus. All in all, this is excellent news.

The other exciting thing that happens is my exam results. I have passed and am now officially in Final Year. Of course, the first 6 months of this are the coolest in the course, or so I am told. The real hell starts next year. These 6 months will be about organizing Spandan and generally goofing off, relatively speaking.

Back in Campus:
After my customary 54 hour door to door car-train-bus journey, I arrive in Pondicherry, eager to kick start my normal life again. I am determined to continue reading with the intensity I had last semester but with no exams and no real pressure, that is not easy.
My exam marks are released. I fall 3 marks short of a Distinction in Path, 6 of which I had left unanswered because I forgot the bloody chit on Lymphomas. I am now sure this is divine retribution. Micro, as expected, was where I scored the least, managing about 57%. I was happily above 65% in the rest. All in all, a decent effort. Which, instead of motivating me has just made me more complacent than ever.
I don't learn from mistakes that easily.

Shom has started work and has bought himself a nice Red Maruti in which we wander around town and around campus. He is on call most days it seems, so he often honks outside my room and I go down for a coffee or a Snappy session catching up on the latest politics in his Department.
One day, I feel my ears are blocked and are paining a bit so I call Shom who reassures me that he will take care of this small problem. After all, this is what he is training in. And so, late one evening, when it's dark and work has finished for the day, he takes me to the ENT ward and puts an authoritative otoscope in the ear, concluding that I have loads of earwax.
It's still very early in Shom's ENT career so, we go to the Treatment Room where all the instruments and lights are kept and an ear syringing is planned.
I sit across Shom, who is armed with his headlight, a big syringe and some water. He also has a book on his lap opened to the page on syringing. While this is not exactly confidence inspiring, I am sure it can't be that big a deal and so he proceeds to syringe my ears glancing at the book to make sure all is correct and proper.
To his credit, large globs of brown wax come out. I am fine and we celebrate with a coffee.

Later that night:
I wake up with phenomenally excruciating pain in my ear at about 4 in the morning. I have never experienced this kind of pain before or since and I run down to the shop across the road, buy some painkillers and take all of them. A cocktail of them, about 5-6 tablets.
I discover, with some significant burning in my stomach, that that was a bad idea. I now have acute gastritis, also very very bad. So I pop some antacids and some agonizing hours later, things are better.

I narrate this to Shom, who is a bit upset but apparently I had a small boil in my ear also that found space to grow after the wax was removed. So Shom wasn't to blame. With a reaffirmation in competence and a sigh of relief, he then packs my ear with Ictahmmol and Glycerine and a day later, I am back in action.

Life was fun. Sure, there were tests and clinics and the odd panic attack, but fun nevertheless. I was getting back on track. Spandan was in a couple of months and Interclass before that.

It was good to be back.

Chapter 41-The Five Papers of 2nd MBBS

April-May 1996

Well, here they are. After 4 months of torture, I will face the longest set of exams so far. A total of 5 theory papers, 5 vivas and 6 practicals.(Pharm has two). Twice. In the space of about 1 month.
I am actually looking forward to this. 4 months of non stop reading will finally end and I can get on with the rest of my life. It's going to be crazy but I've never been more prepared to face medical exams.
While I've been getting ready for all this, The Jipmer PG Entrance exam also happens and to cut a long story short, neither Plaha or Shom manage to get in. Shom has put himself on a waiting list in ENT and that's what he is doing now, waiting. He will also get married while waiting, an event I shall sadly miss.

Vij, however, managed to get OG and is now a First Year PG. One night, around 2 AM, while I am half studying and half wondering what the hell I am doing, Vij shouts out "Oyyeee" from the Volleyball court below my room. He has a list of B positive students and wants to know if I will be willing to come over and donate a pint for a really sick patient. I'm quite happy to accompany him on my first blood donation trip, obviously because the cause is good but also because I just want to run away from the books.
We go to the ICU where a lady in her 30's is lying on the last bed on the right, intubated and with DIC. The prognosis is not good but we're all trying. She will perhaps receive my donation. I really hope she makes it.
Around 3, I'm a pint less in weight and blood and Vij takes me out for some juice and something to eat. I feel like I've really done something worthwhile. When I wake up the next day, I'm told the lady passed away. I never knew her or cared for her or attended to her but it leaves an empty feeling for a while.
It is my first brush with death as a student.

My Send-Up memories are vague because it all happened so fast. It was all over in a week, theory in the morning, pracs and vivas in the afternoons, all bunched up so that we could finish Send-Ups before the Univs started. Inspite of all this rushing, there will only be a 2 day break between Send-Ups and Univs. For me, it's all the same-one long drawn out marathon.
Pharmacology practical arrive. Madam G is in charge and I get a stupid experiment where I take a mouse and put it's tail on a wire that is heated. There are 2 test tubes labelled A and B, one with saline and one with morphine and my task is to inject both and compare the time the poor mouse takes to flick it's tail from the hot wire that's burning it. Morphine will dull the sensation and the time will be longer. That's the theory anyway.
I just cant be bothered with this crap. so I take the mouse and duly put the tail on the wire and heat it up. I then take one of the tubes and drink it. It tastes awful, bitter and really bad. Morphine.
So that's done. I cook up the times and in 2 minutes I have a successful experiment. My way of showing the finger to the Dept that fingered me. The viva is great and I pass with flying colours.

48 hours later, it's Monday and Univs. Normally I would be up most of the night, high on adrenaline and coffee, rushing to finish the last few pages as I paced up and down just outside the Exam Hall. But today, I feel more confident. And very relieved. Once the exam starts, it's usually a blur. Over before you know it.

The Exam: 
The normal Exam venue is Banting Hall but Pharm, along with Micro 1 and Path 1, all last year's papers will be held in Hunter Theatre. Normally this venue is fairly conducive to "illegal cooperation" but there are only 15 or so of us and there is no scope.
The first paper is Pharm. 80 marks. There are about 20 questions, all the same. One drug, it's uses, side effects and contraindications. It gets very repetitive after a while and I cant find a rhythm to my answers. It gets over soon enough though and I think I've done OK.
3 hours later, I'm back in the Mess for lunch where the usual "How was the paper bugger" questions are fielded and the question paper is passed around for juniors to ogle and seniors to proclaim how easy it was.

The next day is Path which goes off well and so does Micro. That takes care of last year's papers and now there are Path 2 and Micro 2 to go.
First up is Path 2.  I spend the previous evening reading till 11PM and sleep till 5. It's the most I've slept for any exam. After a bit, I open Lymphomas and proceed to copy the classification of Non Hodgkins on a small bit of paper. I have never ever bothered to learn this bit and I cant start now. So in neat small writing, I write down the entire complicated classification, ready to take with me to the exam. That done, I read some more, shower, shave, breakfast and I'm ready to rock.
The exam is easy. I sail through the questions on "Aneurysms" and "Yolk Sac Tumours" underlining and colouring the key points like I have never done before. There is a 6 mark question "Classify NonHodgkins Lymphomas". This is heaven sent. Free Gift. I have the paper.

But I don't. I check my shirt pocket, my pants and I can't find it. It's just not there. I can't believe it. I'm forced to leave 6 marks blank because I never bothered to actually remember it. So from full marks, I get zero. Divine retribution? I couldn't care less at the moment. I just wanted that bloody chit.
One of the drawbacks of knowing the whole paper well is that there is so much to write.Which means that time is always short and I am scrambling to finish. I manage to finish on time, but only because I left out those 6 marks. When I reach my room, I find that paper sitting neatly under my table lamp, waiting for me to pick it up. Which I never did.

Micro 2 is tomorrow and is a nightmare. I am exhausted and I just want to sleep. But that will have to wait since I am pathetic at Micro. I've almost totally ignored Fungi hoping they don't come in the exam and Parasitology is a nightmare. But just 1 more paper to go.
I shift to Vinay's room for the exam and we read the whole night. Almost no sleep. Around 6, we start to take short 10 minute naps, each waking the other up. This goes on till about 8 when we give up and head off to the exam. The exam is not good. I am sleepy, tired and confused. All the parasites seem the same and I write something hoping my paper won't be scrutinized too carefully.

The theory part is over. It's been a traumatic 5 days. But now there's a whole set of vivas and pracs to come.

Pharm is first and comes and goes with one small hitch. In the viva, with all going really well, I am asked to name a Platelet Activating Factor antagonist. I know it's somewhere there in the book, but I cant remember. I look it up when I get back. Gingkolide B it is. Apparently.

My Path pracs go off well too. The slides are fine and in the Bone Marrow charts I get an AML, which I classify as a Type 3 based on Auer Rods which pleases the examiner like crazy.

Micro 1 is so-so. I've never been great at staining slides and I get an Albert's stain for Diptheria bacteria to do. I follow the steps perfectly and I'm sure I'll get the smooth green background with the red rods that are Diphtheria bacilli. Instead, when I look, I see huge green blotches, very uneven, with no bacteria at all. In the viva, the examiner comes over, takes a look, then gives me a dirty look and sighs. He asks me what I am supposed to see since there is nothing to actually see in my slide at all. I just about manage the biochemical bacterial identification and the viva is very average. I hope I'll pass.

Path 2 arrives and it is my best viva ever. The slides are perfect, the specimen viva is on the Heart where I explain Rheumatic Heart Disease in all it's gory detail, including the genesis of Aschoff bodies and the viva is superb. I've never answered a better viva before or since.

And then, just to balance things, Micro 2 arrives. This is the last set of vivas and pracs and all I want is they somehow get over and I can just go home. The major part of Micro pracs is the parasite identification. We are given some shit (literally) which I spread onto a slide and then look everywhere for the eggs that are supposed to be there. But, I can't find any. Not a single egg. We were promised that this shit would be literally full of them but I just can't see them. When the examiner comes around, there's another dirty look and a sigh. He moves the slides around, does something else and some eggs pop into view. I'm sure I'll fail this one.

When the exams end, I feel nothing. I had imagined waves of relief washing over me or some such thing, but I am numb. I just hope I'll pass everything.