Till Mid Sep 1993
As I have mentioned, Spandan signals the end of ragging. For me and my fellow baby juniors, this is a good thing and a time we were looking forward to. However, not everyone shares our sentiments. In so many ways, the end of Spandan is a loud punctuation mark between fun and no fun.
As I have mentioned, Spandan signals the end of ragging. For me and my fellow baby juniors, this is a good thing and a time we were looking forward to. However, not everyone shares our sentiments. In so many ways, the end of Spandan is a loud punctuation mark between fun and no fun.
It is necessary to mention that Spandan is merely the climax of a series of smaller College based events going on for the last 3 months-a slow but steady build up that reaches a crescendo in Spandan. The peak of the crescendo is only matched by the deathly silence that falls over the campus immediately after. This silence is known as "Post Spandan Sickness Syndrome".
It all started in July with InterClass, a small scale Intra-College version of Spandan and a practice ground for it , followed by the hostel days: LOHA and Curie Days. Then Spandan fever, so far running in the background with meetings and sponsorship drives takes over and gallops along at a continuously increasing pace for the next 3-4 weeks. Everyone stops studying. (except Final Year, who are facing the exam of their lives). Then, Spandan is over and for the entire campus, University exams are less than 2 months away.
With this background in mind, and the sudden cessation of all activity, I can't help but notice that everyone has gone all serious. Tones are muted, expressions dull and vacant. Books are open but no one is in any mood to read them. Evenings are spent in the post-mortem of Spandan: why the food was bad, why the Fashion Show rocked, how good "Millenium" were, the sometimes boring and sometimes fabulous Cul and L&D and of course, Sports. Players, especially the Basketball ones, drop by and remind us of how good they all were and look at the ceiling with wistful smiles. The entire campus is quiet. There are some tables, chairs, tents and makeshift sports stands still standing, reminders of another festival gone by with nothing to follow for the next 6-7 months. People shuffle to shacks and hang about outside the mess or each other's rooms, knowing that a return to one's own room means an often futile attempt at reading.
Reality occasionally returns when some one drops by to borrow a book or notes or to spread rumours about upcoming exam dates.
Reality occasionally returns when some one drops by to borrow a book or notes or to spread rumours about upcoming exam dates.
The sickness is briefly alleviated by all the Committes going out for post Spandan parties. The bigger Committees have bigger budgets but also more people to feed. Finance-the one pulling all the strings (and tightening the purse in the process) has the most expensive one. They seem to have budgeted well and have their priorites right. Some head off to a beach resort, some to a seedy bar. It's the last hurrah before exams.
Mid Sep-Oct 1993
The other bright spot in all of this is the arrival of a fresh batch of classmates. A few have transferred from another college they were originally in and some are from abroad. These guys are subject to the rules of ragging, but it is definitely toned down a bit and for the most part, finishes early and is much milder. These guys are the entertainment during reading and mugging breaks so the ragging is intermittent and the raggers are thoroughly distracted by very real fears of failing exams.
Anupam and Harpreet-two fresh classmates are from Delhi, so there is something in common there. Harpreet is a Sikh, one of now only 3 in the college. Sandeep Kapoor (Sandy after a US trip) in 1st Clinical Year and Pammi in Internship make up this grand total of 3. Anupam and Harpreet move to Osler House, and their initial days are spent fighting over what time the lights should be switched off.
Vinay who has spent his childhood in various parts of the world and most recently in Bulgaria, is, I think, a misfit. He thinks he is a "rapper dude" who has somehow entered into a Medical school. He speaks with a very mixed American-Indian-Bulgarian-Weird accent, wears his Chicago Bulls cap backwards and his T-shirt hangs loose. This obviously translates to prime ragging material and while I escape the mess unharmed, Vinay entertains alternating groups of seniors with some weird rap dances.
Vinay's father is in the Foreign Service, so that at least partially explains the accent. Even he doesn't quite know what he's doing in Jipmer and he spends many lectures muttering exactly this.
We don't really speak that much. He's in his own world and I wish he would shut up.
Anupam drops in to my room sometimes, sometimes out of boredom and sometimes to crib about his early-to-bed roommate. On one of these visits, during a discussion on condoms, it falls on him to teach it's proper use to a mutual classmate. A piece of wood holding up the room curtains is brought down and a condom is purchased and a crash course in condom usage is organized.
Henceforth, Anupam is now known as Condom.
Apart from these minor interruptions, classes are in full swing and exams are near. Every Department is scheduling tests, so that sometimes one can have 2 tests on the same day. These count towards Internal Assessment and are taken seriously. Anatomy, Physiology and Biochem all schedule tests one after the other. Physio goes well and I get through Biochem but Anatomy remains a pain. This time, Ashley fails better than me, which is worrying.
One afternoon, having breached the 75 % mark as per our cupboard table and therefore not in class when I should be, I wake up to find Rahul and some of his classmates in a major gossip session. This time of the day coincides exactly with a NeuroAnatomy test they are supposed to be taking, so they have obviously bunked it. Apparently, the test is difficult and they have not studied, which in itself is not a new thing. The fact that one can actually bunk a test registers in my mind.
October 93
My birthday falls on the 13th. It's my first away from home and I get letters and cards from home and relatives. I spend the day feeling a bit bluesy but some classmates, some of whom I barely know, gather around and we head off to Penguin for a party. I'm happy that I'm doing something other than reading letters and moping around. A big container of salt falls in my soup and the rest of my birthday is spent removing the salt and then drinking still very salty soup.
Rahul's birthday falls on 1st September. Spandan is always scheduled to happen around this time so he is guaranteed a grand party every year.
Otherwise, every day is the same routine. Our batch has mid-semester exams coming up (called Terminals) and so we start reading a bit too. It's just classes followed by alternating reading and gossip sessions. Some manage time well, most are struggling.
Food remains an issue. The Hostel Mess is run exclusively by students and every month someone volunteers to be the "Mess Secretary". The function of the Mess Sec is to ensure that decent food is given daily and that budgets are not exceeded. It's solely his responsibility. The money comes from the Mess Fees which is Rs 500 per month. The Mess Secs are usually people with some seniority so that they have some standing when fending off aggressive people unhappy with food.
One evening, while we are lounging around, Vikrant comes over and tells me that he will be the Mess Sec for November. However, he has nearly a month of Study Leave before his exams and he has just decided that he will go home to Chandigarh for a few days and he wants me- a Baby barely three months into Jipmer-to take care of the Mess Sec's duties.
"Relax. I've taken care of everything", he says with an assurance I do not share.
I am handed a massive bunch of massive keys I must guard at all costs. They are the keys to the store where the rice, dal etc are stored. I have to get up at 6 AM daily and open the store. A mess boy, called "tambi" comes and takes the daily quota of rice (I say 16 lites as Vikrant has instructed, he says 20 litres, I'm too sleepy and I agree. 20 Litres.) Since this happens every day, including Sunday, the rice is getting over fast. I am clueless about where the money is going and the food is getting worse. Things come to a head month-end when I am confronted by Raghav, a Final Year senior who is very upset and is very serious about violence in my immediate future.
The end of the month has a "Grand Special" dinner which every starving students waits for and this month, there is hardly any rice and the food is abysmal.
Vikrant can have his Mess Sec back. One time is enough for me.
One Tuesday Morning in Nov 1993
Anatomy dissection is phenomenally boring. I am standing there in front of my cadaver who is minus arms and legs. Formalin is everywhere. On my table, Mohanty is poring over his book and dissecting like he's doing a PhD. The rest of us are shooting the breeze but there is only so much breeze to shoot.
Vinay, I find, is in the same predicament. Plus, he'd rather be somewhere else.
There is a rumour that a new French restaurant called "Rendezvous" has opened somewhere near the beach area. I have been hearing this for a while and so has Vinay, and when he approaches me with the radical idea of slinking away from Dissection and rendezvousing with Rendezvous, I offer no resistance. There are stories of ambience, steak, garlic bread, great chicken in great sauces and beer to wash it down. We don't really know exactly how to get there but the lure of proper food combined with the surreptitious pleasure of bunking class is too much. So we slink away, in the middle of Dissection with no regard for Attendance or consequences.
It is blazingly hot outside. Just outside the campus main gate, some auto-rickshaws usually park themselves. Today, we see none, but we spot a Cockroach which takes us about 2 km down to the start of JN Street where it dumps us. There are no autos here either. In fact, there are no autos anywhere to be seen.
It turns out that we have decided to go on a food adventure in the middle of an auto strike, we are unfamiliar with the city, still nowhere near Rendezvous, and standing in the middle of traffic slowly getting roasted. We decide to walk in the general direction of where Vikrant had told us it would be and where we would find our salvation.
It's a really long walk. The heat makes it longer. and eventually we find Rendezvous after about 45 minutes.
It's Tuesday. Rendezvous is closed on Tuesdays. There is a big sign on the door.
We do NOT give up. Heading to another joint, open but seedier, we reward ourselves with a cold one. We now know when not to go to Rendezvous. A lesson has been learnt the hard way, but learnt nevertheless.
If it's Tuesday, don't go to Rendezvous.
Victims of the same tragedy, Vinay and I become good friends.
When we get back, Vikrant and Rahul spend many hours and many days rolling on the floor at our expense, never wasting an opportunity to remind us of the "banana-chocolate pancakes" and the superb continental breakfast we had missed but the next day, we made it there.
Diwali, 13th Nov 1993
Diwali has arrived. Rahul has flown home for a couple of days and has promised to bring sweets from Delhi. In the meantime, I am introduced to some Jipmer Diwali traditions.
Anyone who has seen even one Diwali knows that prayers, new clothes and lights aside, there is lot of rocket launching and bombing. The fireworks here start early in the morning all over town and I personally think that this is because Lord Ram arrived here in the morning from Lanka taking the rest of the day to reach Ayodhya. So, morning it is.
Some interesting things happen over the day:
1) The Rocket Wars
Rockets can go pretty far and can also go pretty haywire. In Jipmer, rockets are fired horizontally from the roof of one hostel to the other (Lister to Osler and vice versa). The aim is to just avoid hitting the opposing rocketeer while causing mayhem. It's a distance of about 75 meters and a successful launch is accompanied by "Lister ki bistar par Osler ki sister" (On the bed of Lister lies the sister of Osler) if one is in Lister and vice versa if in Osler. (The effect is somewhat lost in translation). This carries on till one either gets bored, is losing badly and gives up or till someone gets hit. Downstairs, meanwhile, other things are happening
2) The Loo Bombings
It should be noted that each loo door has a very small gap between the door and the floor. This gap is ideal to light a bomb and casually chuck it in. First, it's not a good idea to be in the loo at such times but when the call of nature is strong, it's up to the loo occupier to somehow notice the bomb and react fast enough to put some water over it. Some do, some don't. The success rate is not great because most of the bombs are local made grey sticks called "country bombs", many of which don't go boom at all.
Some normal, harmless rocket launching and bombing also happen sometimes.
Unfortunately, the fun ends eventually, and we get back to reading.
The mugging phase is approaching. Exams are near and everyone is getting psyched out and shitting bricks.
December 1993
Two days before the Terminals are due to start, there is some commotion in the hostel and everyone is headed to Curie House where we find that my ex-crush (called Lady Gaga for this purpose) has decided that she has had enough and wants to go home for good. Her bags are packed, her parents have been informed and she is waiting downstairs surrounded by us who are trying their best to convince her to stay.
It takes a while but she relents.
And then the Terminals arrive. As expected-a complete disaster. One question in Anatomy goes like this:
"Describe the relations of the axillary Artery"
My answer only consists of skin, superficial fascia and fatty tissue. That's it.
The Anatomy practical consists of five separate stations-Osteology, Surface Anatomy, Gross Anatomy, Histology and Embryology, and is held in the Dissection Hall and the Histology Lab next door.
It's all going reasonably well till I reach Embryology and am handed three coloured plates.
The first plate has a round circle. The second has the circle surrounded by wriggly shapes. The third has a different looking circle but the wriggly shapes have disappeared.
I have no idea what this is so I make an educated guess about the process of fertilization. I am then given a sad shake of the head and told to go.
No one else seems to know what the hell that was.
Physiology and Biochemistry are tacked reasonably well.
We break for vacation.
I am going home.
I have lost ten kilos in four months but I have gained so much more.
I have settled in. I can't wait to get back.
Mid Sep-Oct 1993
The other bright spot in all of this is the arrival of a fresh batch of classmates. A few have transferred from another college they were originally in and some are from abroad. These guys are subject to the rules of ragging, but it is definitely toned down a bit and for the most part, finishes early and is much milder. These guys are the entertainment during reading and mugging breaks so the ragging is intermittent and the raggers are thoroughly distracted by very real fears of failing exams.
Anupam and Harpreet-two fresh classmates are from Delhi, so there is something in common there. Harpreet is a Sikh, one of now only 3 in the college. Sandeep Kapoor (Sandy after a US trip) in 1st Clinical Year and Pammi in Internship make up this grand total of 3. Anupam and Harpreet move to Osler House, and their initial days are spent fighting over what time the lights should be switched off.
Vinay who has spent his childhood in various parts of the world and most recently in Bulgaria, is, I think, a misfit. He thinks he is a "rapper dude" who has somehow entered into a Medical school. He speaks with a very mixed American-Indian-Bulgarian-Weird accent, wears his Chicago Bulls cap backwards and his T-shirt hangs loose. This obviously translates to prime ragging material and while I escape the mess unharmed, Vinay entertains alternating groups of seniors with some weird rap dances.
Vinay's father is in the Foreign Service, so that at least partially explains the accent. Even he doesn't quite know what he's doing in Jipmer and he spends many lectures muttering exactly this.
We don't really speak that much. He's in his own world and I wish he would shut up.
Anupam drops in to my room sometimes, sometimes out of boredom and sometimes to crib about his early-to-bed roommate. On one of these visits, during a discussion on condoms, it falls on him to teach it's proper use to a mutual classmate. A piece of wood holding up the room curtains is brought down and a condom is purchased and a crash course in condom usage is organized.
Henceforth, Anupam is now known as Condom.
Apart from these minor interruptions, classes are in full swing and exams are near. Every Department is scheduling tests, so that sometimes one can have 2 tests on the same day. These count towards Internal Assessment and are taken seriously. Anatomy, Physiology and Biochem all schedule tests one after the other. Physio goes well and I get through Biochem but Anatomy remains a pain. This time, Ashley fails better than me, which is worrying.
One afternoon, having breached the 75 % mark as per our cupboard table and therefore not in class when I should be, I wake up to find Rahul and some of his classmates in a major gossip session. This time of the day coincides exactly with a NeuroAnatomy test they are supposed to be taking, so they have obviously bunked it. Apparently, the test is difficult and they have not studied, which in itself is not a new thing. The fact that one can actually bunk a test registers in my mind.
October 93
My birthday falls on the 13th. It's my first away from home and I get letters and cards from home and relatives. I spend the day feeling a bit bluesy but some classmates, some of whom I barely know, gather around and we head off to Penguin for a party. I'm happy that I'm doing something other than reading letters and moping around. A big container of salt falls in my soup and the rest of my birthday is spent removing the salt and then drinking still very salty soup.
Rahul's birthday falls on 1st September. Spandan is always scheduled to happen around this time so he is guaranteed a grand party every year.
Otherwise, every day is the same routine. Our batch has mid-semester exams coming up (called Terminals) and so we start reading a bit too. It's just classes followed by alternating reading and gossip sessions. Some manage time well, most are struggling.
Food remains an issue. The Hostel Mess is run exclusively by students and every month someone volunteers to be the "Mess Secretary". The function of the Mess Sec is to ensure that decent food is given daily and that budgets are not exceeded. It's solely his responsibility. The money comes from the Mess Fees which is Rs 500 per month. The Mess Secs are usually people with some seniority so that they have some standing when fending off aggressive people unhappy with food.
One evening, while we are lounging around, Vikrant comes over and tells me that he will be the Mess Sec for November. However, he has nearly a month of Study Leave before his exams and he has just decided that he will go home to Chandigarh for a few days and he wants me- a Baby barely three months into Jipmer-to take care of the Mess Sec's duties.
"Relax. I've taken care of everything", he says with an assurance I do not share.
I am handed a massive bunch of massive keys I must guard at all costs. They are the keys to the store where the rice, dal etc are stored. I have to get up at 6 AM daily and open the store. A mess boy, called "tambi" comes and takes the daily quota of rice (I say 16 lites as Vikrant has instructed, he says 20 litres, I'm too sleepy and I agree. 20 Litres.) Since this happens every day, including Sunday, the rice is getting over fast. I am clueless about where the money is going and the food is getting worse. Things come to a head month-end when I am confronted by Raghav, a Final Year senior who is very upset and is very serious about violence in my immediate future.
The end of the month has a "Grand Special" dinner which every starving students waits for and this month, there is hardly any rice and the food is abysmal.
Vikrant can have his Mess Sec back. One time is enough for me.
Apart from the mess, which closes about 9 PM, the only other on-campus food place is a small shop called "Little Chef". This is down the road from the hostels and has some nice noodles and Coke floats.
One of our weekly highlights is walking down to Little Chef on a Saturday and while away time chatting, eating and Coke-floating.
I also find that there is a rather nice looking girl I think I like but have not found the courage to say that to her. On one of our Saturday walks, I disclose this to my fellow Coke-floater only to find that he has equally strong feelings and he has actually initiated the issue with the lady in question.
I also find that there is a rather nice looking girl I think I like but have not found the courage to say that to her. On one of our Saturday walks, I disclose this to my fellow Coke-floater only to find that he has equally strong feelings and he has actually initiated the issue with the lady in question.
And that, over a Coke-Float where the Ice Cream melted into the Coke and my noodles remained uneaten, was that.
One Tuesday Morning in Nov 1993
Anatomy dissection is phenomenally boring. I am standing there in front of my cadaver who is minus arms and legs. Formalin is everywhere. On my table, Mohanty is poring over his book and dissecting like he's doing a PhD. The rest of us are shooting the breeze but there is only so much breeze to shoot.
Vinay, I find, is in the same predicament. Plus, he'd rather be somewhere else.
There is a rumour that a new French restaurant called "Rendezvous" has opened somewhere near the beach area. I have been hearing this for a while and so has Vinay, and when he approaches me with the radical idea of slinking away from Dissection and rendezvousing with Rendezvous, I offer no resistance. There are stories of ambience, steak, garlic bread, great chicken in great sauces and beer to wash it down. We don't really know exactly how to get there but the lure of proper food combined with the surreptitious pleasure of bunking class is too much. So we slink away, in the middle of Dissection with no regard for Attendance or consequences.
It is blazingly hot outside. Just outside the campus main gate, some auto-rickshaws usually park themselves. Today, we see none, but we spot a Cockroach which takes us about 2 km down to the start of JN Street where it dumps us. There are no autos here either. In fact, there are no autos anywhere to be seen.
It turns out that we have decided to go on a food adventure in the middle of an auto strike, we are unfamiliar with the city, still nowhere near Rendezvous, and standing in the middle of traffic slowly getting roasted. We decide to walk in the general direction of where Vikrant had told us it would be and where we would find our salvation.
It's a really long walk. The heat makes it longer. and eventually we find Rendezvous after about 45 minutes.
It's Tuesday. Rendezvous is closed on Tuesdays. There is a big sign on the door.
We do NOT give up. Heading to another joint, open but seedier, we reward ourselves with a cold one. We now know when not to go to Rendezvous. A lesson has been learnt the hard way, but learnt nevertheless.
If it's Tuesday, don't go to Rendezvous.
Victims of the same tragedy, Vinay and I become good friends.
When we get back, Vikrant and Rahul spend many hours and many days rolling on the floor at our expense, never wasting an opportunity to remind us of the "banana-chocolate pancakes" and the superb continental breakfast we had missed but the next day, we made it there.
Diwali, 13th Nov 1993
Diwali has arrived. Rahul has flown home for a couple of days and has promised to bring sweets from Delhi. In the meantime, I am introduced to some Jipmer Diwali traditions.
Anyone who has seen even one Diwali knows that prayers, new clothes and lights aside, there is lot of rocket launching and bombing. The fireworks here start early in the morning all over town and I personally think that this is because Lord Ram arrived here in the morning from Lanka taking the rest of the day to reach Ayodhya. So, morning it is.
Some interesting things happen over the day:
1) The Rocket Wars
Rockets can go pretty far and can also go pretty haywire. In Jipmer, rockets are fired horizontally from the roof of one hostel to the other (Lister to Osler and vice versa). The aim is to just avoid hitting the opposing rocketeer while causing mayhem. It's a distance of about 75 meters and a successful launch is accompanied by "Lister ki bistar par Osler ki sister" (On the bed of Lister lies the sister of Osler) if one is in Lister and vice versa if in Osler. (The effect is somewhat lost in translation). This carries on till one either gets bored, is losing badly and gives up or till someone gets hit. Downstairs, meanwhile, other things are happening
2) The Loo Bombings
It should be noted that each loo door has a very small gap between the door and the floor. This gap is ideal to light a bomb and casually chuck it in. First, it's not a good idea to be in the loo at such times but when the call of nature is strong, it's up to the loo occupier to somehow notice the bomb and react fast enough to put some water over it. Some do, some don't. The success rate is not great because most of the bombs are local made grey sticks called "country bombs", many of which don't go boom at all.
Some normal, harmless rocket launching and bombing also happen sometimes.
Unfortunately, the fun ends eventually, and we get back to reading.
The mugging phase is approaching. Exams are near and everyone is getting psyched out and shitting bricks.
December 1993
Two days before the Terminals are due to start, there is some commotion in the hostel and everyone is headed to Curie House where we find that my ex-crush (called Lady Gaga for this purpose) has decided that she has had enough and wants to go home for good. Her bags are packed, her parents have been informed and she is waiting downstairs surrounded by us who are trying their best to convince her to stay.
It takes a while but she relents.
And then the Terminals arrive. As expected-a complete disaster. One question in Anatomy goes like this:
"Describe the relations of the axillary Artery"
My answer only consists of skin, superficial fascia and fatty tissue. That's it.
The Anatomy practical consists of five separate stations-Osteology, Surface Anatomy, Gross Anatomy, Histology and Embryology, and is held in the Dissection Hall and the Histology Lab next door.
It's all going reasonably well till I reach Embryology and am handed three coloured plates.
The first plate has a round circle. The second has the circle surrounded by wriggly shapes. The third has a different looking circle but the wriggly shapes have disappeared.
I have no idea what this is so I make an educated guess about the process of fertilization. I am then given a sad shake of the head and told to go.
No one else seems to know what the hell that was.
Physiology and Biochemistry are tacked reasonably well.
We break for vacation.
I am going home.
I have lost ten kilos in four months but I have gained so much more.
I have settled in. I can't wait to get back.
Remember seeing you at the delhi railway station ...the transformation.
ReplyDelete...Phani was taught by me! Condom was and is still condom as he had purchased few condoms(for some mysterious reason) and was discussing it with u guys.
ReplyDelete