Shailaza's Blog

Tag: Armed Forces Medical College

  • Mischief managed – Tales of Armed Forces Medical College part- II

    A medical college is a very different universe. It is a place students come as strangers and go back as friends and sometimes even more than friends. In Armed Forces Medical College, Pune, students become brothers (never sisters though!) and share laughs, scares and sometimes even tears.



    The legends of ragging were not the only stories in AFMC. There were many ‘enterprising’ students as well. As Basi Menon recalls, ‘Satwant Singh Lamba was from the E batch. He was a tall guy who joined AFMC in 1966. He was a broad chested man who was quite well known for his white coat, white pant , white shoes. He had also snagged ties from somewhere. He could do anything for some extra drinks or money. He could impersonate everybody. One of the episodes was that he goes to the Officers Institute (club) and posed like an officer. As students the officers institute was out of bounds for us. But he went. He sat there like an officer and had a couple of drinks and lo and behold to his bad luck, one of the teachers who taught us physiology happened to visit the institute for a drink. Satwant Singh Lamba still pretended to be an officer. Next day, this guy goes to meet the teacher in his office. He wishes him good morning and says, ‘I believe you met my twin brother. He was telling me about you.’ The teacher accepted this explanation but after a few weeks he understood everything. Once Satwant Singh Lamba went and inaugurated a school as a major saab. He was taking a walk somewhere and he saw this crowd. These people saw him and since he was always dressed smartly, they made him their chief guest since their chief guest did not come. The event was featured in a vernacular newspaper with his photograph. But he wasn’t good in studies. He left the medical college and he became a medical representative and given his ability to ‘adjust and manoeuvre in all kinds of circumstance’, he did well for himself.’


    The floor and block monitors were very powerful people in the AFMC. For the freshers, they were God himself! As Firdaus Bot, an I batcher says, ‘If you could get the ‘kripa’ of the block monitor, no one could dare to rag you. When we came to AFMC, our block monitor had just one requirement. We had to get up at 6 am and go to his room to massage his feet. If anyone would ask us where we are going, we could take his name and we would be spared.’


    Admiral Sudeep Naidu narrates his experience, ‘Soon, the college was flooded with new ‘murgas’ and the attention span of seniors waned a bit as far as I was considered. My floor monitor was from the senior most batches and lived at the end of the corridor in a room appointed to the manor born. I was the major domo tasked with keeping it clean and most importantly in charge of the mid-sized aquarium he had. This was stocked with many small colourful fish and it was my job to give them feed thrice a day and clear the muck which floats up. This “thrice” a day routine was proving to be a bit of a problem. The feeding schedule matched the exact times when the corridors were crawling with seniors, so I started altering it subtly to suit my requirements. This was instantly frowned upon and I got a warning. Sundays, when the good lord ordained rest, was particularly tough – creeping back into the hostel to feed the damn fish. One Sunday, the senior left for a long weekend to Bombay and I decided that fish were too dumb to recognise the hand that feeds them. The entire days feed was upturned in the bowl and I decamped to savour the sights of Pune. I crept back at seven in the evening and per chance thought, I should check on the feeding orgy the fish would have had. At first glance, everything seemed all right, but something was amiss. A closer scrutiny revealed that one of the prized Siamese fighters was missing. I shook the aquarium, rustled the weeds and checked the shells and one silly looking sunken boat, but there was no Siamese fighter lurking. Right at the end, I saw him or her! Belly bloated and floating at the top – very very dead! I was at my wits end now – the senior was cantankerous, doted on his fish and actually spoke to them. I had to replace it by next morning. I jogged out from the back gate, spent precious funds on an auto and reached the little pet shop at Bata crossing which was just pulling its shutters down. The owner at first refused to sell me a single Siamese insisting that they are always in pairs, until he realised I had only enough money for one! I parted with the princely sum of 10 rupees, came back, and plonked the fish in. The next two days were spent nervously watching for any recognition of the deed, but nothing happened. In fact, I noticed that this new ‘jodi’ did not swim around together and kept apart. Talk of disjointing “Siamese twins!”’


    While ragging was a norm, there were some who escaped ragging all together and have no regrets about it. Firdaus Bot, an I batcher thanks his stars that he was a late admission to AFMC. ‘I was the last boy to be admitted in September. By then the ragging fever had subsided. When the warden counted me, there were 100 students. So 99 students had already been allotted triple seater rooms and I was the only one left and I could not be left alone. So, I got a room with a G batcher who was interning as an assistant warden. So, the seniors who wanted to meet me had to take permission and hence no one could rag me, I didn’t miss it because I was from Mumbai so I didn’t agree with this ragging concept.’


    The girls probably had it a bit easier. Probably because each batch had 100 boys and 25 girls. Dr. Jatti Ravindranath recalls, ‘ Our job was to sing and dance in the girls hostel. I used to sing while my classmates used to do the cabaret during the night in front of all the girls. We couldn’t stop laughing because it was so funny. So, our seniors said that since you cannot stop laughing you need to put buckets on your heads and sing. We put plastic buckets over our heads and we would sing while the others would dance. We were told to oil our hair everyday and not wash it. We had to make pigtails with pink ribbons and look as unattractive as possible.’


    Apart from the ragging, the students had a lot of other adventures as well. They were shows that the boys put up especially for girls too.
    Admiral Sudeep Naidu says, ‘Something we looked forward too was the skits we had to put up on the roof of 1 top, facing the girl’s hostel (later U block). Planned over weeks, the arrangements would start late in the evening with electric cables being run to the roof for spotlights (table lamps covered with coloured crepe’ paper), a scratchy cassette player and props, all set up in pitch darkness. Then with a resounding entree’, the skit would start. It was always a sight to watch the girls shut of their lights one by one and to hear the giggles and gasps emanating from across the fence. The skits were always about lost love and aspiring Lotharios with messages being conveyed in prose, poetry and song. The best response was when the Mr. AFMC contest was conducted under lamp light with the 10 skinniest guys of the batch in their briefs, preening and strutting on the roof of 1 Top, accompanied by a raucous MC who behaved as he was at a Sotheby’s auction for prime males. I believe the girls had their own version of this staged in their quadrangle, but we were never privy to these lurid tales from across.’


    The evenings and mornings of Jalsa were all about tales and stories from the good old days. The old and the young were busy recounting their adventures and misadventures with bursts of laughter. When they encountered a long lost friend, it was a heartfelt hug and a friendly slap on the back. Dr. Meeta Singh believes such reunions help bolster strong relationships. ‘When these long lost friends and classmates meet, it is like they time travel to the days where everything was fun and possible. We love organizing these events because we believe AFMC is one big family and like they say, the family that has fun together, is always together!’

                                                      – Concluded

    This article by Shailaza Singh appeared in Rashtradoot Newspaper’s Arbit Section May 8th, 2024.

  • Of Ragging and Other Mischiefs

    Once upon a time, in the land of Army existed a place called AFMC. It was a place full of cadavers, doctors, classes , jokes and a lot of FUN. The Armed Forces Medical College was not just a college, it was a way of life for thousands who have passed through its doors.

    I will make no bones about it- I am what they call an ‘army brat’. For as long as I remember I have been a part of this army life, thanks to my father who retired about a decade ago. I have listened to his adventures, escapades and pranks ever since I could understand them. He is a graduate from AFMC (Armed Forces Medical College), Pune and belongs to the ‘I’ batch (Right from the inception of the college, each batch of students has been given a letter of the alphabet to identify their year and seniority. So ‘A’ was the very first batch in 1966. After the 26 letters were over (that means 26 years), they started off with A1. So, far, 57 batches of doctors have graduated from this college).


    So, when Major Dr. Meeta Singh and her husband Ashok Singh organized the yearly event Jalsa 2024, I was only too happy to attend it because it meant listening and in a way reliving the naughty, spicy and interesting anecdotes of these army doctors.
    When I walked into the Stardom Resort, where Jalsa 2024 was being held, it was like walking back into time and meeting my own childhood. I could see my father’s friends, his classmates, his seniors and juniors, most of whom I knew from years of postings. Some of them had taken to singing on the stage while the others were busy sharing jokes and laughing. Then as was the custom in their college, there were some backbenchers too who were commenting quietly on everything that was going on and having their own party.


    My purpose was simple. All I wanted to do was know about the fun they had in their time in AFMC. Acing MBBS is not easy and then these were officers of the Indian army; which is known for its discipline and tough postings. But these people were experts in taking it all in their stride and making as the popular slogan goes in the army, ‘jungle mein mangal’.
    I walked to a group of men who were sitting in a corner and drinking beer. I asked them about their fondest memories of AFMC.

    Basi Menon, an anesthetist from G batch said, ‘I remember in 1969 I got chicken pox in the third year of AFMC, so I was under a lot of scrutiny and observation in the isolation ward. Some of the students even envied me and tried to hug me and get it too so that they wouldn’t have to give any exams but most of them were unsuccessful in getting the disease. One day, this friend of mine came in four days later with mumps. Another fellow classmate and his friend turned up in the ward after crashing his motor cycle while travelling from Mahabaleshwar to Pune. I was the unofficial mechanic for all the motor bikes in the college. All the damaged, broken bikes would come to me. So, even though I had chicken pox, I still had to go and pick up the bike because I was the only one who could repair it. Moreover, it is not like chicken pox is a very serious disease. It is just that people don’t like you because you are all full of pus and pustules. And they are terrified of you when you walk in somewhere. After a lot of whispered discussions in the medical ward, my friend who managed to get the chicken pox at the same time as me (by being very (physically) attached to me) decided I could go. Everyone in the ward knew what was going on but they didn’t say anything. So, I slipped out quietly. That evening, during the rollcall, the officer in charge came to see the four of us in the ward. My bed was occupied by the pillows which were completely covered by the quilt. When he tried to talk to me, the man next to me was the son of the Air Chief and he told the officer, ‘Sir, please don’t disturb him. He is so very exhausted and needs rest.’ The officer was convinced and told him to let him know if there was any problem and walked away. I stole back into the ward the next morning and quietly slipped into my bed.’


    It seems that even in the army, examination scared every one. Basi Menon says, ‘Ashish Mitra of G batch could do anything to avoid sitting for examinations. Poor thing, it was not his fault. He had accidently cleared the entrance examination since he had such a photographic memory. But he wasn’t a doctor material. He would have done really well in journalism or some similar field. He was petrified when the first semester exams were announced. He decided to get a fever by putting onions in his armpit for a day or two. He developed the fever and tried to get admitted into the ward. But most of the officers knew what the game was and saw through him. Later on he dropped out of AFMC and now he is an orthopaedic surgeon in the US.
    Ragging was a well known fact in AFMC. The ‘freshers’ as the first years were called were made to do all sorts of tasks by their seniors; most of them were fun and helped them to bond well with their peers. Admiral Sudeep Naidu recounts, ‘I managed to do everything wrong on my first day in AFMC! Chucked out of the house by a mother, paranoid about late running trains, I arrived 2 days before the last check in date, enjoying the undivided attention of the whole college, bar one portly character who had beaten me to it. I also managed to draw considerable attention to myself by driving up to the hostel office in an army jeep arranged through a friend of a friend by the same paranoid mother. Two suitcases, one trunk, one holdall and my pride and joy – A burgundy red BSA SLR with white sidewall tyres and handles bent down into Lance Armstrong territories.


    I got down from the jeep, surveyed the motley crowd standing at the warden’s office and asked where I should report. A guy with cut-off jeans and a banian with more ventilation than originally intended, sauntered up to me and speaking clipped English asked me who I was. I introduced myself with pride and by the time I was finished, he was well versed with my ancestry. By this time, I noticed that he also had a hairstyle reminiscent of the then ‘angry young man’ and had the mannerisms, down to the sulky look and baritone drawl. I enquired as to who, he was, and was informed that he was a waiter in something called B Mess. My impression of the college straight away zoomed! Waiters speaking English and looking like Amitabh Bachhan! I had also arrived from Hyderabad wearing what I thought was the epitome of fashion – brown trousers with flares at the bottom – bell-bottoms! (Apparently, the new fashion of narrow trousers had not yet reached Hyderabad) Not only was I was soon rushing to the tailor near the cycle shop for alterations, but also, sitting with a blade ripping of back pocket labels like Playboy, Newman, and Dragon etc, from my trousers.
    I met another fresher who had already been initiated into all the nuances of behaving as a penguin and was soon educating me. In fact he was teaching me what “third button” was, when some seniors saw us and presuming that a fresher was ragging another fresher, subjected him to a lot of sit-ups and push-ups ! We were then duly marched off to 4Top, where we had been granted an audience with a character who was casually doing pull –ups while hanging from the top floor balcony – on the outside! I politely declined when he offered to teach me how to overcome the fear of heights and instead took the option of going in for the zero cut. This character also insisted that I retain one side of what he called “fungus” on the upper lip and this strange look acted as an incentive for other seniors to have me front roll and visit exotic hill stations in each room. Thankfully, after a round of Shimla, Mt Abu and Darjeeling we reached the at the warden’s office and I was allotted 5 Top 4. The dean had briefed the various sports options available to the new candidates and I was soon on the track, racing against a P batcher for a place in the relay team. The sports guys looked out for us freshers and there was a dictum that the sports field was exempt from any type of ragging.’

                                                          ..To be continued

    This article by Shailaza Singh appeared in Rashtradoot Newspaper’s Arbit Section on May 7, 2024

  • Goofy Leaves from A General’s Diary

    As told to Shailaza Singh

    Armed Forces Medical College

    Most people believe that life in the Armed Forces Medical College is all about studies, discipline and responsibility. Though it is all that but it is also about fun, bonding and crazy memories of a life time. Maj. General Ashok Kumar Singh, an ‘I’ batch alumnus reminisces about his days and experiences in AFMC.

    I had always idolized my grand father Brigadier Thakur Khem Singh, OBI who served as the Commander of Jaipur State Forces . Hence, my dream was to join the army and follow his footsteps. I was ecstatic when I found that I had cleared the entrance exam of AFMC (Armed Forces Medical College).

    On reaching Pune and not Poona

    After I came to know about my result, I impatiently waited for my call letter. My father was even more impatient than me and insisted that I visit the GPO everyday. The postmaster at the GPO got so used to my inquiring about my call letter that he used to see me from a distance and shout out ‘tharo letter kooni aayo Bhanwar sa.’ (Sir, we haven’t received your letter). Finally, the letter came. I met Karni (Lt. Gen. Dr. Kunwar Karni Singh (Retd.)) my classmate from St. Xavier’s School on the train and we soon reached Pune. But I refused to get down because according to me AFMC was in Poona and not Pune. Karni had to really convince me that this AFMC was in Pune and not Poona!

    First Few Days

    The first shocker was the our heads were practically shaved off. For some time, we became the cynosure of all eyes. Where ever we would go in Pune, every body would point to us and say, ‘Dekho naye ganje aa gaye!’ (Look the new baldies have come!). But soon we got used to it!

    Prawn Trap

    When we joined AFMC, Bhim (Wing Commander Bhim Singh Rathore (Retd.)) who was a batch senior to me told everyone that  Karni Singh and I  were university level basket ball players. In those days, the court in AFMC was red in colour and we were five people (Dr. Khalid Moidu, Karni, Bhim, me and Late Dr. Ravinder Sharma) became one of the best teams of AFMC. Moidu was a batch senior to me. We went to buy a basketball to Main Street on Moidu’s bike. He then took me to lunch to Kimling restaurant where he ordered prawns and rice as a special treat. At that time, I was a mere boy from Rajasthan who had never tasted prawns in his entire life. I didn’t like the smell of prawns and just ate rice with some chutney. Moidu got so cheesed off with me that he refused to give me a ride and asked me to run the entire distance of four kilometres from Kimling to AFMC  while he rode on his bike.

    ‘I’ Batch

    My batch, ‘I’ batch was a sports team. Brigadier Mahadevan who was the dean at that time wanted sportsmen in his team because he believed that anyone who is a sportsman will always be honest and courageous person. So, our batch had the maximum number of sportsmen and top notch players from all games, whether cricket or football or basket ball. 

    Beat the game

    Moidu had told me to deny playing football because he wanted us to concentrate on building a basketball team. I was a fresher and I could not refuse anything that he said. So, when some people from the football team asked me to come for trials, I purposely didn’t play well so that they don’t select me. But after five months in the college when the ragging was over, we first years played a football match against the same people, we defeated them 6-0. I cannot forget the look on their faces when they discovered that I was a good football player too.

    High on Bikes

    When we were in the third term, on April 1st, we decided to play a prank on everyone. So, we picked up the bikes of all students and placed them on different floors. We parked bikes in front of student’s rooms, on the top of the water tank, on the terrace and everywhere we could think of. Imagine we were so crazy at the time that we could pick up the bikes and carry them up the stairs to different floors without making a noise! We parked a student’s bike on the third floor in front of his room. That student was quite unperturbed when he saw his bike in front of his room. He got on it, started it and drove to the bathroom to brush his teeth! We laughed our guts out!

    Cock-a-doodle doo

    At one time I was a block monitor. I was quite strict. I would check all the floors and in case any new student faced any ragging, they would tell the person that I had called them. One day, Pawan Kapoor (Air Marshal (Dr.) Pawan Kapoor (Retd.)) who was from M batch was going up the stairs and a senior was coming down. The senior asked him the whereabouts of Pawan Kapoor. So Pawan told him that ‘Pawan Kapoor’ was in his room. The senior later on got to know that he had been tricked by a junior. Then he promptly ragged him by asking him to pose like a ‘murga’ or a ‘medical chair’.

    I was in the ninth term and I had assigned Pawan Kapoor the duty to wake me up without uttering a word. He couldn’t come into the room. So, he used to climb on the glass pane above the door and pretend to be a cock and say ‘cock a doodle doo’ to wake me up.

    Bromance

    I had instructed another junior named Chandola to sing a specific romantic song the moment he saw me anywhere. So, regardless of who he was talking to, the moment he saw me he would sing ‘lag ja gale’ and other people would wonder if he had lost his mind.

    Why Singh?

    There was a senior B.K. Singh who used my name tag A.K. Singh to rag people. When people complained about the ragging, to the authorities, no one could not find any A.K. Singh in the that batch!

    After college, girls used to go on cycle and we boys used to walk. Karni used to whistle in a particular way. But whenever he whistled, the girls used to tell me to shut up because they thought I was whistling! And the fact that I was a good basketball and football player also helped!

    English Vinglish

    We had a warden named Mr. Purohit. He was also from Rajasthan and his English was crying out loud for improvement but he insisted on speaking English no matter what! So, he used to say things like ‘my car is understanding the tree’. Normally during lectures, the girls used to sit in the front and the boys sat at the back. The seats at the back were higher than the seats in the front as it happens with most classrooms in the medical college.  One day, the boys decided to sit in the front. Naturally, the girls went and sat at the back. That day, Mr. Purohit came and saw the change. In his customary English, he said, ‘Hey! You the boys and girls! How come the skirts have gone up and the pants have come down?’ We didn’t know whether to laugh or hide our faces!

    In AFMC, the boys to girls ratio was quite skewed. However, the girls were quite sporting and shared a camaraderie with everyone. In those days, our banter was quite harmless and every one loved cracking jokes on each other.

    All about greenery

    We learnt to fire guns in AFMC. During the firing practice, we were required to shut one eye while firing. Generally, after about firing 15 rounds, the eyes get tired. So, we were instructed to open our eyes and look at the greenery (hariyali) after every 15 rounds. Once, at a firing session, when we were told to stare at the greenery, I turned around and saw some of girls from our class sitting and talking. So, the instructor asked me, ‘Number 45, kya kar rahe ho?’ (What are you doing?) I promptly replied, ‘ Sir, hariyali dekh rahe hain! (Looking at the greenery sir!). After the firing was over, the instructor asked me to hold my gun above my head and keep running around the field so that I could see my fill of hariyali!

    Rotten eggs

    There was a beautiful student named Purnima Chatterjee who was friendly with everyone except the boys of our batch. So, we all had a grudge against her. We decided to teach her a lesson. We collected a lot of rotten eggs. The girls’ hostel was bang opposite the boys’ hostel. So, we stood in the balcony and threw eggs into her balcony which was always open. Since we were great basket ball players, most of the eggs landed into her room. One of them even landed on her bed!

    Rocket Singh

    Once on Diwali, we decided to burst crackers. One of the rockets was misfired and landed into a girls’ room! Thankfully nothing serious happened but an inquiry team was set up. The inquiry team was headed by Bhim (Wing Commander Bhim Singh Rathore (Retd.)) , who was the general secretary at the time and was himself firing the rockets! So, the inquiry team obviously couldn’t find out who fired the rocket!

    Adam teasing

    My mother had made a shirt from me out of one of her odnis (stole). The shirt was quite a good one and whenever I used to wear it my room and stand in my balcony, the girls had a field time whistling and passing comments!

    One for all and all for one

     Once, I had a skirmish with a student from another batch which became a full blown fight. Thirty students from first year came and stood outside my room and shouted at me to come out. My room mate was a body builder who was known for his strength. So, I egged him and said that if I get beaten despite having a friend like him, what was the point? So my room mate came charging outside and told every one to back off. Meanwhile, all my friends also came. Soon, the mob left. Had it not been for my friends, I would have been beaten black and blue!

    Irani Final

    In my ninth term, we were playing football finals in Law College in Pune. They were a lot of Irani students. On a different occasion, when we had played against them and started winning, they had turned rowdy. So, this time we were prepared and we had taken the army jawans with us. Every one was armed with rods and chains in case of any eventuality. So, when our team started winning, the spectators started pelting us with stones because the locals were a huge favourite. One of the stones injured our officer, Brigadier Dutta, who started bleeding. When we saw this, we were enraged. It became a free for all fight. I saw an official from host college and urged him to do something. He attacked me and I hit back. Some one in the audience took a picture and it was published in Pune Herald the next day. As a result, I was suspended from the games. The Iranis had seen the photo in the newspaper and every day four or five of them used to come in an Ambassador car and inquire about me and my friends. I decided that I had to study and pass out of AFMC with my batch else I would be left behind and the Iranis would beat me to pulp. So, I kept a low profile and studied hard. When we passed out, we were so apprehensive of those guys turning up at Pune railway station or bus stand that we caught a taxi and went to Mumbai. From there we boarded a train to Rajasthan.

    Heady Cocktail

    We were doing internship in Base Hospital, Delhi. During the internship, you are still considered a part of the medical college. So, we were called for playing basketball finals to Pune. As officers, we were given first class tickets. We won the cup and then poured all kinds of alcohol we had into it and drank up that cocktail. I had totally passed out. It was Karni who helped to dress me up the next day since we both had to catch a train from Mumbai for Delhi. Between both of us, we had only ten rupees. So, we each had a cup of tea and peanuts during the entire journey. By the time, we reached Delhi, we were famished. Luckily, Karni always kept some money with him in the room. He went to his room and got the money and we finally ate proper food after an entire day of peanuts!

    Bird Watching

    We used to go in a three-ton truck to play matches. One of my seniors called Luthra had this habit of taking away my glasses. He then used to ask me to describe the girl walking on the road. I couldn’t see without my glasses but I used to describe the girl in all her finery and glory. Then he used to give back my spectacles and show me the girl he had asked me to describe. Obviously, the girl was very different because I couldn’t see her! So, I used to fib that I was describing another girl!

    Mistaken identity

    One day another classmate of mine Chinni who looked like a Punjabi but was actually from Tamil Nadu decided to rag a first-year student who was from Tamil Nadu. So, he asked him to say something in Tamil. The first year student thought Chinni did not understand Tamil so he used all the cuss words in the language. To his utter shock, Chinni replied in Tamil! To punish him, Chinni asked him to count all the seeds in a guava and report back to him asap! The poor chap kept counting the seeds for the entire day!

    As told to Shailaza Singh

    This article was recently published in Rashtradoot’s Arbit Section

    Published on 26 November 2021
    Published on 27 November 2021