It
was a great year. Hostel life was fun. The first three months were tough times
for us juniors who were ragged buy the seniors. I was to be the shadow of a
tall girl called Rema who was to be a coconut tree. I had to follow all her
actions like swinging her arms, bending in the breeze and all that a tree is
supposed to do! Some seniors made us write their notes for them or fetch hot
water for their bath. It was all done in a spirit of camaraderie with no
intention to hurt. When I read in newspapers today, about the ragging that goes
on in Hostels, leading to death and mental breakdowns, ours was very lukewarm.
Something has happened to this ice breaking ritual. It has become a sadistic
activity and college authorities do not take any steps to stop it.
Neerja
was my greatest friend. We vowed never to lose track of each other and I do not
know where she is now. My box camera was very useful. I had told Neerja about
my secret ambition of becoming a film star and she thought I’d make it. On
Sundays I would borrow a friend’s jeans and shorts and colourful tops and
strike ‘filmy’ poses while Neerja clicked. I blew up the pictures and sent them
to S Mukherjee’s Filmalay. We waited with
baited breath for the reply. A few weeks later, our Warden, Sister Dorothy,
called me to her room and threatened to send the letter I received from some
‘film person’ for a screen test, to my father, if I did not stop all that ‘nonsense’.
That’s when I knew our letters were read by the Warden. Grandpa’s gift was too
precious and I did not want to jeoparadise my chances. So I dropped my idea for
the time being. To make up for it, I regaled my hostel mates by imitating my
favourite actresses like Vyjayantimala, Mala Sinha, Nutan and Sadhana. Since I
could speak Hindi, memorizing the dialogues was no problem.
With Neerja
Pics for the screen test!!
Neerja
and I were up to many tricks to get out of the hostel for an evening out. Once,
we cooked up a plan to get an out pass. Just when Sister Dorothy, the Warden
was taking her night rounds, I started moaning loudly. She came in to see what
was wrong. Neerja told her that I had a terrible ache in the right side of my
tummy. The Warden was worried and she gave us an out pass to go to the Doctor.
Neerja was to go with me. We went over to Dr.Shankarambal’s nursing home and
since she was out, got an appointment for the next day. That evening, we walked
up and down South Parade, looking at boys! The Doctor examined me the next day
and found nothing wrong but told me to eat bland food. So, I had to eat just dal and cooked vegetable which was made
especially for me. Neerja would smuggle some food into the room later. We got an
opportunity to go out every fortnight as the Doctor wanted to keep an eye on
me. But nemesis was to come. When I was writing my second paper in the final
exams, I fainted and the hostel visiting doctor was summoned urgently. She fed
me glucose while I finished my exam and later, was rushed to Dr Shankarambal
who had not seen me for over a month. She poked and prodded and found that I
really had to have my appendix out. The day after my exam, I was admitted to
the hospital in Mysore. Dr Jayalakshmi,
operated on me. She was dad’s good friend and I was given royal treatment. She
was to deliver my first born, Arjun, six years later. My grandpa flew down from
Secunderabad to see me. He gifted me a small Philips radio. He loved me and I
loved him. If he were alive, I would have definitely become his junior lawyer.
But God has His own plans for us.
Hostel
life is a good exposure to being accountable to oneself. It is misused by many
who get into self destruct habits like drugs, alcohol and sex. On the other hand,
it is a good opportunity to learn about different cultures and food habits. One
of my hostel mates, became the principal of the college.
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