My memories of the hostel days..... 1969 & 1973, revisited.

[madhav kapdi]

 

Sub. : My memories of the hostel days..... 1969 & 1973, revisited.

                    The image below, is a name plate of mine, embedded in the column of my porch around 25 years back, when I was the secretary of the society. Out of 12 members, my immediate 2 members were also from COEP, 5/6 years senior to me from Civil engineering.working with MSEB.

                   
 

                    In the name plate, M.Y. stands for the Madhav Yeshwant, while Yeshwant is the name of my father, but the Madhav is the name of my Grand-father bestowed on me. It is a practice in many families, to keep the name of the eldest Non-surviving member, to the youngster, out of respect and also for remembrance. However, for the year 1971 to 1973, the last 2 years of my engineering namely 3rd & 4th year, i was staying in the hostel with a borrowed name Mohammad Yousuf Kapdia [M.Y.Kapdi] a Gujrathi muslim settled down in Goa, and the origin of my Re-christened name, will be of interest to you.

 

                    Nightmare of higher studies [engineering] for the middle class.

 

                    I was hailing from a lower middle class family, and the engineering education fees, books and also the hostel expenses were beyond our reach. Upto the Inter-science, I followed the higher purchase practice for the books, but for that, you have to keep the book in the intact condition, otherwise the bookstall [from where you have purchased the books] has an option to refuse the Re-purchase.

 

                    But many seniors advised me to purchase the engineering books of my own, since they are the treasures which are very useful for the lifetime in your profession, which is your Bread & Butter. Honestly, for many problems we face in our profession, the solution is very much available in books we have referred to in our college days. You have to simply refer to your college books for the guidelines, but the difficult part is its implementation in the practice.

 

                    On this backdrop, i recall the cheapest book available was of Lacteen a Russian author costing Rs.8.00, while the Heine, Loper & Rosenthal was Rs.30.00, and the set of books on the Extractive Metallurgy by Bassforth was perhaps costing more than Rs.100 / set, and it was not available in the market either. 

 

                    The MST [Making, Shaping & Treating of steel] was costing Rs.400 / 600, and the Rs.400 is a discounted price, which was calling for a lot of Documentation. MST is a Bible for the Metallurgists. The amount may appear trivial now, but it was a big sum 50 years back. In the subsequent paras, I have explained the cost of the chilled Beer bottle in the 70s, and today for the ease of comparison.

 

                    Some Modus-operandi of mischief mongering in the hostel ..... 1969 version. 

 

                    I am a product of a joint family system with the limited financial resources, but with ample emotional backup, but my drawback was, I was schooled in a municipal school with the childrens of police constables, and my guiding principal was area domination, like a police station. I was very aggressive by the constitution, but with highly rugged orderliness at home, there was some amount of discipline in my behaviour, but when I joined the hostel, I had a lot of freedom, which I was exploiting to the hilt. 

 

                    Number of initiatives and mischief modes were introduced and one of them was to put the Tumrel [Toilet mug, the more appropriate word is Tin-Pot.] filled with water, and put it between two half doors of the Toilet. So anybody entering the Toilet used to be drenched and our room during the first year, namely A21, was closest to the toilet, with the staircase in between, and the needle of suspicion used to be in our direction. In the morning hours, due to the natural sunlight, the members were allert, since you can see the presence of Tumrel in the Sunlight, but in the night, they were handicapped in absence of the lights.

 

                    Dr.Abhay Panwalkar & late Shreekant Modak were my room partners in 1969, and we used to go for dinner either too early or too late, after watching the funny faces of the victims fully drenched. with our adventure. We could also hear the sound of the steps of our Bakras, and were keen to know who was being drenched. By and large, the members before going to their room after dinner, used to head towards the toilet for the small job, and we were very keen to watch the faces of our victims by coming into the corridor, after listening to the sound of the Tumrel.

 

                    In normal course, the members after getting drenched, used to finish the job and head towards his room with their head down. In that case we used to hear only one sound but once we heard two sounds, but the footsteps heard were of only one person, and this has developed an anxiety amongst us. All of us came to the corridors, but the victim was none other than a prominent member of our Bombay Gang. I am not disclosing the name of that fucking basterd since he is also a Metallurgist like me, and was my room partner for 3rd year. He is now a director of 3/4 firms, and has a chauffeur driven Mercedes for the last 20 years.

 

                    Somebody informed our rector Mr.Ganesh Rao of our mischief since the victim has a head injury, and went for treatment to the visiting Doctor in our hostel premises. Doctor was working in a Sasoon hospital full time basis, heading the post mortem Department. He immediately informed the rector as per the rules, and the rector after due investigations replaced the Tin-pots with the plastic mugs. The plastic mugs were not in vogue 50 years back, but this peacution was taken as a measure of safety. In addition, we were verbally cautioned also with disciplinary action. 

 

                    Man-Kaur Sehgal Khun Khatla.

 

                    The said Doctor was a Bengali, and I have listened to his cross examination in " Man-Kaur Sehgal Khun Khatla. " hearing of which was taking place, right opposite the railway line, near our college, Man Kaur a Sikh, married to Dr.Capt. Umranikar, an army officer against the wishes of her family, was murdered by her siblings. Tha Advocates pleading the case were Barrister Aggrawal whose stony heritage bungalow was on the left of the JM road, near BOB, and the other Advocate was Mr.Nirgudkar, whose eyes used to be a Red-shot like Drunkard in the court also.

 

                    During one of the cross examinations, he shouted at the Doctor, " You are not a Doctor but a Kasai,"  [He has performed more than 7,000 post mortem operations.] When he coolly replied that, he is an expert in his discipline, and his opinions are sought across India, in case of complex cases.  I once went to him, when he gave me 20 tablets of Intraviofarm, from his zola and was asked to consume 10 tablets per day. I got all right the very next day, without consuming even a single tablet. Fear is the key.

 

                    The change of mischief mode.

 

                    Now we have to change our mischief mode and then we switched over to another mode, of throwing the water from the top, on the members loitering around our Block, and this was harmless mischief. However, Mr.Rafik Shaikh was the victim of our mischief mongering, but I have not thrown the water on him nor did my room partners either, but I always used to be targeted for being the originator of this mode, which I never disputed.

 

                    Attempt to murder, by Agya-Vetal.

 

                    Why go that far, once I was threatened with the murder also so angry the victim was. If he would not have been controlled, then if not murder, I would have been severely injured at least. So angry the victim was that he removed the steel support of our mosquito curtain and bent it, to vent out his anger. He supplemented his action with the outburst " Shat marin, Khun karin. "  Rightly he was called the Agya Vetal, in the hostel. Very nice person, maybe short-tempered like me, but a Gentleman to the core.

 

                    This episode took place in A/12, and here also i have not thrown the water on him. A/12, was the Adda of the Bombay Gang, and Avinash Gorwale [Gokhle] & Deelip Pagay were the room partners. There were 2 Bombay Gangs, one was a Marathi, and the other was called the Buggers, the Non-Marathis. They were also nicknamed as the fucking bastards.

 

                    The entry of Rafeek Shaikh. [RS]

 

                    Rafik was a senior to us [2nd year] and perhaps short tempered also like me. Somebody threw the water on him, and he felt humiliated as to how come a junior makes fun of a senior, and made a discreet inquiry with the somebody down stairs, who told my name and also the room number A/21. In anger he hurriedly climbed the two stairs and barged into our room roaring " Who is Kapdi.? "  

 

                    Fortunately, all of us, including my room partners, were involved in the serious studies. When I replied in affirmative, he headed towards me but by then both my partners stood up in my defence, and Rafik perhaps realized that i was innocent, and stepped back. Moreover, he was not fully drenched either, so obviously, i have not thrown the water also.

 

                    Incidentally, I was also called the sharp shooter of the hostel. If I throw the water, then the victim has to come to his room and change the clothes itself, so much of the perfection I have achieved. Although I have started this activity, subsequently there were many followers. I used to study the walking speed of the target, and never threw the water but literally poured it right over his head. More precisely, it can be called a head-bath and hence was called a sharp shooter. You need to have a passion for the job you have chosen, to excel in it, and be called a sharp shooter.

 

                    When Rafik cooled down, we told him as to why we switched over to the prevailing practice. We found him one amongst us, and the matter was closed there itself, but then I had an opportunity to interact with RS a little later, which is being narrated in the subsequent paras.

 

                    My informal interaction with Rafeek-Shaikh [RS]

 

                    In Pune, I had many relatives staying in the Saraswat Colony and around, near the Sasoon hospital, and I used to call on them once in a while for dinner, essentially on Sundays.  Amongst all, Shalu-Tai Nadkarni & Ashokbhai Wagle were prominent amongst them, and both were staying nearby. While returning to the hostel, I used to catch Bus number 4, living from Pune station to Swargate and the last bus was at 10.20 PM. 

 

                    I used to get down at Shimla office and then head towards the hostel. There was no regular bus stop as such, and street lights either, and whatever lights were emitting from the Sasoon hospital building near by, were being obstructed by the tall and vintage banyan trees on the road, and for all the practical purposes it was a mysterious bus stop ideal for the shootings of the suspense movies.

 

                    Couple of times I saw Rafik Shaikh [RS] at the bus-stop with two girls but I was not sure if he was RS only, so deem was the lights. Later on I came to know that, both were MBBS students, and one of them was his classmate from the school, to whom he married subsequently. Once, as soon as the bus came, I got into the bus and RS followed and sat beside me and paid for my ticket also, till then I was not sure that he was RS. 

 

                    Metallurgy the choice branch.

 

                    Such Sunday night interaction took place a couple of times later, and in one of our casual banter, I told him that I will be opting for the Metallurgy as a choice branch and he said he also has decided to opt for the Metallurgy. Both of us were to take Metallurgy as a choice branch, because of the teaching style of late Bhat Sir. But in the course of chats, I told him that there are no Indian authors for the Metallurgy books, other than Dr.Khangaonkar Saheb, the HOD VIT Nagpur, and all the authors being of overseas origin, their books are expensive also, and that could be a hindrance.

 

                    Incidentally, Late Dr.Khanganokar Saheb took my interview before publishing my article " Ideal material for Plunger, Cast-Iron OR the Cu-Be. [Metallurgical-perspective] " in Oct.2010 in Alucast, the nodal agency of the Aluminium Die-casters, headed by Mr.Prasoon Firodiya, the MD of Jaya-Hind industries.

 

                    He told me not to bother saying, he will be using the books to be provided by the Muslim library being operated by Mr.Ghadiyali who is also teaching in Fergusson college, but then he also said that, if there is a Muslim student from my batch, opting Metallurgy as a branch then he will not be able to help me. Fortunately, there were no muslim students in my batch. He told me that we will have to meet Mr.Ghadiyali, and I should not disclose my Hindu identity, and fortunately, my ear-lobes were also not pricked, an identification of being a Hindu. 

 

                    Why were my earlobes not pricked.?

 

                    My elders told me that I was very much pampered during my childhood since two of my siblings before me could not survive. In my childhood, when I was taken to our math at Goa, the Swamijee affixed customary hot Mudra on my stomach and I started crying. Ear-lobes pricking was a next ritual but then I stopped crying but my mother and other lady members of our team were still crying hence the pricking ritual was dropped.

 

                    That proved an advantage for me while being interviewed by Mr.Ghadiyali. Rafik also re-christened me as Mohammad Yousuf Kapdia [M.Y.Kapdi] a Gujrathi muslim whose forefathers migrated to Goa for business and finally settled down there only. I am a talkative person, and might slip my tongue, hence RS told me to mind my tongue or else lose the opportunity.

 

                    My interview went well, and I got the books but 2 months after the term started since the timings of myself, Rafik Shaikh & Ghadiyali were not matching, to call on the latter. The interview went well since much of the talking was done by Rafik, but in the process, Mr.Ghadiyali had a look at my ear-lobes, and he got the required confirmation of my being a muslim and in the good mood we parted. 

 

                    Rafik took me to Hotel Vaishali opposite Fergusson and we had Masala Dosa and of course he paid for me as well. While in hostel, every week I am supposed to write a letter to home and in one such letter, I informed them that my interview and now i will be getting the books soon, and in a way save Rs.200 [around 2  monthly expenses] a big sum then. 

 

                    The cost of a chilled Beer bottle, 50 years back.

 

                    For your information, the chilled Beer bottle available at Modern high school petrol pump was costing Rs.3.60, and the empty bottle was fetching Rs.1.00 back, so effectively we were spending Rs.2.60 only.+ Chakhana 50 NP to be shared with the room partner Rajan Gera. So the total cost was Rs.2.85 only, per bottle.

 

                    When my son was taking admission for engineering in 2004, I narrated this to him. He then asked me " Why were you taking only one bottle.? " The empty bottle is still fetching Rs.1.00 only while the Beer bottle is costing above Rs.250 onwards. Few days later, I got the books from Rafik and he also got 4th year books from Mr.Ghadiyali.

 

                    Introduction to Rajan Gera, my room partner for the 4th year. [1973]

 

                    I was staying in a D-116, and Rajan Gera from Mechanical was my room partner. He was a very jolly fellow like me and perhaps more mischievous than myself and hence we had a jolly good time. To stay awake at night for studies, we hostelites used to go to Modern cafe or the Irani restaurant right opposite Jangli Maharaj temple, but we were the patrons of the latter.

 

                    We were given to understand that they dip some powder [Afim.?] which used to keep us awake for a longer time, but I never saw 12.00 PM in our clock, and over a period of time both of us become addicted to the Irani Chai. I also understand that they dip a raw egg in the tea kettle, and the egg finally settles at the bottom as an omelette, but i have not seen it.

 

                    The father of Rajan was a film financer Mr.Raichand Gera and they were having a bunglow at Khar 14th lane near telephone exchange, and his father has brought for him a circular bed as you see in the movie " Waqt " with Balraj Sahni & Nirupa Roy as the lead cast. Rajan also requested for the car to save time during the exams, and his father provided him the car also. 

 

                    Handful of the students were having the scooters, and they were falling under the rich category, while some with cycles costing Rs.125 then, were falling under the higher middle class category. With the above index, Rajan was falling under the filthy rich category, but he was not arrogant at all.

 

                    But then once the Irani restaurant was closed and we proceeded to Khandala for Irani chai, where Rajan was spotted by a friend of his father and his car was withdrawn. He volunteered to keep the log book also but his father refused. You should not over pamper your child, and beyond a certain limit, you should put your foot down.

 

                    Shabana Azmi & where the Eagle dared.

 

                    Shabana Azmi was our contemporary studying in Film & Television institute and we have spotted her with a fat girl [i used to call her jadu] many times at Sweet-Home, and a very famous underground restaurant at Lakshmi road " Dwarka pure veg restaurant." The most expensive dish known as Dwarka special was  costing Rs.11 then, and it was our dream to have it with our fathers money, before completing our engineering. That was the era when the Hind-Vijay theater [close to Deccan bus-stand] at Deccan was renovated and the first movie shown was " Where the Eagle dared. "  

 

                    There was a heavy rush for the tickets but then Jadu spotted Rajan [Rajan can also be called as Jadu] and bought the tickets for us. They simply went inside, and bought the tickets. Quite likely they may have a film institute connection. For the services rendered, Rajan purchased the wafers, and one packet he gave to Jadu, but Sukdi [Shabana] refused, which we shared.

 

                    Rajan was well aware of my financial condition, and expressed his desire to help me, but my parents cautioned me not to take any monetary help, even if somebody is willing to help voluntarily. This preaching helped me a lot in my tough times later. Pls mark my words. The man never gets tired of the hard work, but of the humiliation imparted to him.

 

                    Room number D-116, my abode for 4th year engineering.

 

                    My room D-116, was the last room on the first floor of the D block, and for the final year, that was the most ideal room since nobody used to take the pains to walk right upto the last room unless he has some work with us, and that was the most sought after room of the final year students. I could get it because of Rajan, and Rajan could because of his ranking, and he opted for me as a partner and I will always remain grateful to him. Mischief mongering was curtailed to great extent, because of my ATKT in Maths & Hydraulics.

 

                    Upto 3rd year, we stayed on the top floor, since we wanted to have the fun of throwing water, which was my favourite time pass during hostel days. Our final exams used to be in April / May and it was very hot on the top floor. In addition, there was a big banyan tree right in front of our room and the D-116, was the room with the shortest distance between Boys and the Girls hostel. 

 

                    We couldn't see the girls with the naked eyes, but with the binoculars only, but everybody was afraid if they complained to the rector. In the first year, some of us were caught for Directing the mirror, in the classes of the primary school across the A block. It Was a job of the Bombay Gangs, who used to make this arrangement from other rooms.

 

                    Khurchi [chair] cricket, and its limitations.

 

                    While playing cricket, the hook shot can take the ball right upto the Girls hostel, and they [Girls] used to do the fielding as well, but one day we got the message from the rector to change the location of our stumps and that's it. 

 

                    There was no scope for hitting the ball on the leg or the off side either since the Tennis club fencing and our D block itself was the obstruction. For the scoring, you have to hit a sure shot Aerial shot, otherwise you can be caught with the fielders standing right behind the baller, and the " C " block. Not much of the running was involved for the scoring, since the scoring was as under,

 

                    When the ball hits the Ground floor of the C Block, you get one run, and the first floor 2 runs, and the 2nd floor 4 runs, and the slanting roof is a sixer, and if the ball crosses over the building, then you get 8 runs and are declared out. On the other side of the C Block, our Mess staff used to play cricket and they never used to return the ball, hence hitting behind the C Block was discouraged.

 

                    Inbuilt process of hitting only the aerial shots, can be called as the rehearsal for the IPL T-20 matches, to follow decades later.

 

                    The sudden arrival of Mr.Ghadiyali, a Good Samaritan, but a Devil then........

 

                    So ones when i was standing in the corridor right opposite my room, i saw a Green coloured Lambretta right in front of C block and and a person with the checkered shirt and the skull cap entered the C block and his hulia was like Mr.Ghadiyali, and i missed my heart beat. Little later, he came out and headed towards our D block and parked his scooter in front of our staircase, and I immediately realized what was lying ahead of me now.

 

                    I immediately went inside the room and found Rajan was engrossed in his studies and told him " Mr.Ghadiyali is coming for the books. Plz manage."  and wrapped a towel and headed towards the Toilet. Mr.Ghadiyali climbed the steps and was heading towards my room, and in route we met. 

 

                    He didnt recognize me with the bare chest and towel wrapped, and asked me where Mr.Kapdi was staying and I directed him to the last room and rushed to the toilet. I did not know how much time i will have to spend there and it was a punishment also since there was no way i could be knowing if Mr.Ghadiyali has left.

 

                    As it is i was a constipation patient and was also known as a century batsman hence i always used to use the last toilet so that nobody disturbs me. In A block, somebody wrote " Kapdi 420 Ahe." in the toilet reserved for me. Once my father stayed with me, and he also went to the last toilet and read a literature about me. 

 

                    But then I told him that I am being a century batsman, my hostel colleagues were exercising their freedom of expression. After all the constipation is a hereditary and I was only carrying forward his legacy. Fortunately, I came in contact with a good Homeopathic Doctor in 1998, and he treated me for the next 3/4 months and since then I am totally free from constipation now. All the problems in your life can also be called opportunities, if you think so.

 

                    Exit from the toilet.

 

                    I was afraid if Mr.Ghadiyali knocks the door, then I can not remain silent for a longer time. I was not even able to come out and check if Mr.Ghadiyali had gone or not. Mr.Ghadiyali cooly waiting for me in the corridor, was also not ruled out. For the similar anxiety, I was caught by Mr.Ganesh Rao Sir in 1st year, and spared with the warning. 

 

                    After around 1.30 hrs, I lost my patience, and made a decision to come out and face the consequences.  I came out and fortunately he was not waiting for me in the corridor of the Toilet, but I could not muster the courage to go to my room, but took a left turn and slid down from the window, of the 1st floor, to the ground.

 

                    Sliding is safer than jumping, since the effective height is reduced by 6/7 feets [due to the stretching of your hands, in addition to your height.] In the first year, we climbed down from the water tank of the A block to the ground floor through the drainage pipe, so sliding down from the first floor was a cake walk.

 

                    I was worried about the grip of my towel while sliding, but then my towel remained loyal to me. That was an era when only 4 blocks were alloted to Degrees, while the rest were with the Diploma, and in between there was a  wall with a door duly locked. Now I understand, all the blocks have been transferred to the Degree and a massive multi storey hostel has been constructed for the girl students, and A & B blocks have been converted into the girls hostel.

 

                    Little bit of the students mess nomenclature in 1969.

 

                    Thereafter I entered the C block and borrowed the shirt pants and kept my towel as a deposit. I then entered the mess through the kitchen  service area, and from there I was looking  towards the A Club for Rajan & skull cap of Mr.Ghadiyali. After some time, I mustered the courage and went to the A club and I was informed that Rajan came with a guest and had already left. That means, Rajan has  managed Mr.Ghadiyali and that relieved me. Aftreall, Sindhis are good at Buttering.

 

                    Rajan was GS of the A club and A club was meant for the elites, with feast on Sundays and two changes [Mini feast] a week. Another elite club was F club with one feast and a change, and both were the Non-Veg. clubs. I was a member of D club which was strictly Veg. meant for the Gujjus, but some handful of the members were used to borrowing the Non-Veg from the neighbouring E club. where Mr.Mahesh Pusalkar, my room partner for the 2nd year, was a GS. 

 

                    Many Gujjus were not happy with us, but we used to take a seat adjoining the E club which was addressing their reservations to the extent. That apart, nobody was willing to take the Panga with the Bombay Gang which was the most organized Gang in the hostel.

 

                    After lunch, i headed to the room and found Rajan was sleeping and i also went for the afternoon sista. When I got up Rajan told me that Ghadiyali did  come to collect the books, but then Rajan took the responsibility and was also willing to pay the deposit which he refused. I have not paid nor has Rafik Shaikh paid the Deposit. He refused to take the deposit, since that was not permitted by the trustees but kept a message for me to call on him, otherwise he would make a Police complaint. 

 

                    Dutifully I called on him later, but by then he had sobered down and told me that what he is doing is social work but many times he is on the receiving side, but the trustees never recovered the money from him but were trying to keep him in a good spirits, for the continuation of the services being rendered, for the community.

 

                    Moral of the story. 

 

                    01] Because of Rafik Shaikh, I got the books without paying any deposit.

                    02] Somebody made a chugli against me in the first year, hence i had an interaction with RS, which got converted into a friendship later.

 

                    Little bit of pep-talk.

 

                    Running 74, my recreation is my memories,.and there is no substitute for the memories of your youth, if you were a hostelite.

 

                    I have penned down some of them and those who were the hostelites, stayed in the Block A & D can connect with the events better, and enjoy. The memories are like the ants in their hideout [called as Varul in Marathi] One comes out, then it is the floodgates wide open. I have throttled them, and what I have written is a Tip of the Ice-burg, which I hope you will enjoy.