Friday, December 23, 2005

The Porcelain set

The Porcelain Set

There were seventeen of us . All a great motley crowd of potential engineers , staying together . Today , as I think of those times , Bhagyanagar seems to have been an appropriate name for the hostel . For , as it turns out , it did prove to be Destiny’s playground .

The eight room bungalow was chosen by the college so as to accommodate people till the additional college campus hostels were ready . And one of the first guys to get in was of course , Atul Naigaonkar . Son of a banker , he came with all conservative trappings that one could come across – including high powered spectacles , carefully oiled and parted hair , a constant need to just sit , do nothing and perennially with an Instrumental Engineering book in one hand . The great white skin he had was always the subject of much speculation . How could an Indian have such skin ? - was the prominent query on lips of everyone including Gautam Bargale , the country bumpkin from Kolhapur – Bargi to all of us . Not only was Bargi , Naigaonkar’s classmate , but was also his bete noire .
‘I think the Portuguese did these women on the coasts . And left their colours on the children ‘ , Bargi would constantly remind everyone . Naigaonkar would , of course , furiously object to this . But Bargi , a man of few opinions , had a strange and outstanding funny bone which constantly entertained .He also couldn’t do without his full glass of milk in the morning . I remember the day when once Bargi got up late – Hiten Dalal , the Mulund lad ,was always the first to get up - and found his glass of milk missing . There was a furore , and the next day , the rest of the gang went without milk . Bargi drank everyone’s share up .
Life , couldn’t be rushed for Hiten , though one would wonder why he got up so early . He would laze around . Walk on the terrace , adjusting his spectacles , pretending to be scholarly . He didn’t know how to ride a bike nor did he know to clench a fist and punch . Probably his two sisters unwittingly carved his feminine mannerisms . Yet , he was the first amongst us to date a woman . Guess whatever he was made of , it was working , for once .


These three were classmates in the third year . Their senior was Prashant Ghosh . He was a complete muscleman – with his muscles bulging much more than Bargi’s would like his to bulge . Both , though , helped each other with the weights on the terrace . The first hour every morning was always these two huffing and puffing .
In the Electronics stream were Manjit Singh , the only surd in the lot , and Ajay Maheswary , another Banker’s son . Manjit was the surd’s surd . A great pleasure to have around and the anchor of many conversations . He had a measured stroll and unlike a typical Punjabi , was not loud enough – probably his Brigadier Dad had tempered him , or probably we had ! His pal , Ajay Maheshwary – we used to call him Marwari- and I understand now why so . Quite oblivious was I of such distinctions then.
Maheswary came with Colonial leanings – if it can be called that . His Dad headed the Bank of India ‘s Western Region and he was used to big cars , chaffeurs , lunch prepared specially for him - not in a common kitchen and the like . Suited Manjit and him fine that they shared their room . Business , I tell you , he had running in his blood . In fact , in the college annual gathering , I helped him organize the soft drinks counter . We went into the city , bought out 20 crates of Coke from the distributor and sold with a thirty percent margin . Wow ! was all I would say . From thought to finish , it was Maheswary’s idea . It seems to be a ridiculously simple concept now . Someone tells me now , marwaris make the country’s best retailers . I know how .
The quietest of them was Vipul Amin ; Tullu ,as we would call him and for good reason . He was from some corner in Karnataka , apparently where there is no written script for his language Tullu . Very sparse conversationalist . Highly intelligent and non-interferring types . He had the perfect sense of humour and was handy during evening discussions .
Then there was Suhas Dubey . The grassroots champ . Wouldn’t converse in English – Angrezon ka muh me liya tha kya - he would say to all our English banter . He was the man of the masses . Loved by all . He had a funny line for all occasions . The bumpkin of all bumpkins . I remember his corner room full of Samantha Fox and Brooke Shields semi-clad posters . Once , when his father came visiting , we tried explaining him to redo his room , with no results . ‘Could do with some posters of Gods and Goddesses ‘ was all his dad said . Suhas finished his course in four years to everyone’s amazement . His popularity was as big as big can be . Sure , his fans , saw him through !
The only guy in Petroleum engineering , third year was Sanjay Joshi . ‘By the time you finish your engineering , the world would have run out of Petrol ‘ , opined Suhas . A thin , boney scorpion – Sanjay was the most disliked of all . Dunno why . But , think that it was his caustic comments and his perennial attempts at contributing to conversations as a Devil’s Advocate . The only thing he had that none had in the hostel was a Yamaha Rx100 . Good for convenience . Better than the college bus for those of us who piggyrided on it . And Best for his dates .
There were also the first year threesome . All of whom were subject to our errand whims .
Finally , there was me . The fattest of the lot . One hundred and four kilos to be exact . The observer , said Bargi . The walking encyclopaedia , said Manjit . The angrezi aulaad , said Suhas . Pretty much summed me up .

Every evening , from the remnants of our afternoon chhapatis , Nandu , our versatile cook, would make a kind of poha . Have never eaten the dish again . So , that must have been one of his ingenious dishes . And a daily ritual followed . Nandu would chop onions , tomatoes and these leftover rotis and make them into a snack . This resulted in some great tea time discussions on women and movies .
On one winter evening , Maheswary , announced the wedding of his sister in Mumbai to another great Banker from an MNC bank . His sister was an MBA finance and so was her fiancĂ©e. A great match , we all said . The wedding was to be in Mumbai with great fanfare as befits a General Managers daughter . Maheswary listed out the invitee list . Sounded like the who’s who of Mumbai . All of us were awe struck . The man relished the attention we showered , which of course was partly due to what we thought was his lineage and where he would go in life . And his sister looked like a model . The subject was discussed daily .

Manjit started collecting the next day . Maheswary’s best pal was expected to do so . We debated the amount . Was a hundred rupees enough ? That would be seventeen hundred . What would one get in that ? Debates lasted one week . Day seven threw us the answer . A rupees two thousand porcelain dinner set . That was twenty five bucks more that the one hundred contribution earlier . We stretched our pockets . Month end was ten days away . And surely pocket monies in those times was much more regulated than now. We had a miserly thousand a month to make do . That needed to feed our laundry bills , food , entertainment and travel .
Manjit chose me to accompany him for the buy . Probably because we were both army brats . Probably , we connected well . Probably , I handled cash better ! I never knew that there was so much science in crockery . Dad and Mom had always isolated me from such buys . The crockery in the house was there and taken for granted . I never knew that there were porcelain , ceramic , glass , melamine and many intermittent variants . We checked lots of sets .Some even had designs , some had cartoons and some were handcrafted . There were twenty pieces in all . Finally , we bought a great set . Two thousand bucks , Nicely packaged , Signed by all . We unpacked it at the hostel , so all could see the real thing . Everyone was fine with it .
We gave it to Maheshwary a day before he left for Mumbai . He was an emotional cancerian . And so was completely floored . And happy . He thanked all . Promised that he’ll be back with great goodies . And he was gone .

Noone could attend his sisters wedding . The college announced a bunch of exams for different classes . Intrumentation guys got external exams . Petroleum guys got practicals . And Electronics guys went off on an education trip .
Maheswari came back in five days . And joined his exams . He got lots of sweets to eat and photographs to see . The guy was handsome and the bride was as beautiful as ever , radiant in a great saree . Said his sister was happily married and gone .They had left by the first flight the previous Monday to Europe for a nice holiday – honeymooning . They liked your gift , he said . Senti mat ban , Suhas shot at Maheswari .



Ten days later Sanjay Joshi announced the wedding of his sister in hometown Ratnagiri , somewhere deep in forests of Maharastra . It was an affair . His sister had eloped . His parents were angry . But , now everything was all right and they were being married . It was many kilometers from the nearest town .
This was the most wildest of tales . Gifting time again in ten days !
Something funny happened .
Noone was discussing this wedding . Sanjay would make it a point , over crushed rotis everyday , that the wedding was nearing . Noone was somehow ready to listen . The photographs of the groom ,Akshay , came one day . The guy was okay . Sanjay was a little taller than her sister . She looked like one complete village belle . Akshay was a struggling retailer . For some reason , his shop didn’t seem to do well . He had an old scooter and somehow made ends meet . But , love comes in all shapes and sizes , doesn’t check financials before it strikes . And it came in the form of Sanjay’s sister .
‘ My sister thinks he is the man ‘ said Sanjay , one late night as I sat behind his bike driving down to the theatre . We had to take turns booking tickets for the gang whenever a movie hit town . This one was ‘ QSQT ‘’ , a great hit , everyone had said .
‘ My sister also works at a typewriting institute . But she’s confident that they can build a life together . ‘ continued Sanjay .
‘Jab Miya Bibi raazi , to kya karega Kaazi ? ‘ said me with a pronounced enlightened effect . Suhas would have probably agreed with me .
Later , I discussed this with Bargi . He was also from a town pretty close to Ratnagiri . And he opined in private , not to be quoted , that he knew how things worked in that part of the country and that this marriage would not probably work .
But the strange thing continued . Noone discussed the wedding . And the prospect of footing the bill for another Porcelain set was unnerving to say the least , at this stage of the month . And we all thought that it had to be a porcelain set . And that was another one hundred and twenty five bucks .
Maheswary and Manjit were buzy with practicals . Hiten Dalal , the absent minded bloke , didn’t care whose wedding it was as long it wasn’t his . Prashant went out of town for a ‘pilgrimage’ with a girl of his class . Everyone seemed to miss each other all the time , and a couple of Nandu poha’s didn’t happen .
Two days left for Sanjay to go .
No sign of anyone leading the collection brigade . No porcelain discussions .
One day to go .
‘Guys , lets contribute and buy his sister a gift ‘, said Bargi , finally .
‘Babuwa , budget to hai hin nahin ’, Suhas said matter-of-factly , in his in your face style . Suhas had this dismissive way of handling most matters of whatever importance.
‘I gotto go ,’ said Manjit .
‘Nandu needs to be paid in two days ‘, said Hiten
‘Let’s just get him a card , this time ‘, opined Naigaonkar . Studious , banker’s son , solution provider .
Amin said nothing .
I just observed .
Two hours left .
Sanjay left by bus to Mumbai , from where he would take a bus to Ratnagiri . Finally , there was no card . No gift . No nothing . Sanjay’s sister wedding happened on the last Saturday of December . Both the familes weren’t completely reconciled . But , the wedding happened and the people settled down to accept them . They left for a short trip to Goa with Sanjay’s parents money . And Sanjay came back .

I thought about it for some time . Something didn’t fit . I didn’t know what .

An year back , I met Bargi . He runs a successful Computer parts business in Kolhapur . He’s a dealer for a big PC company . He’s married and has 2 kids . Alls hunky dory with this guy . Nothing can actually ever go wrong with a guy like him . He doesn’t ask much from life anyway .
I asked him over to my house for dinner .
‘Remember old days ‘ said he
‘ Oh yeah , ‘ I said . How’s everyone ?’
‘Most are in Mumbai . Naigaonkar and Amin are in the US ‘ said Bargi .
‘Anyone here ?’ said me
‘Well, Hiten is in Calcutta and Sanjay Joshi is in Ratnagiri .’
‘How’s his sister ? The one that ran away and married ’.
‘Oh , She’s doing wonderfully well . She owns a Computer training institute . They bought half a dozen computers from me . Her husband runs a big retail store in Ratnagiri . He’s moved from Electronics to Garments to Durables and now deals in all of them in one huge three storeyed complex . He’s doing great . They have 2 children and they all seem to be doing fine . ‘
‘Nice to know that all’s well’ .
We had dinner .
And an icecream by the roadside , just for old times sake .

Last week , I bumped into Maheswari in a restaurant in Bangalore . He was working for an Electronics company . We caught up on old times .
Manjit had married and had two sons . ‘Sonofagun doesn’t deserve sons ! ‘ shrieked Maheswari . ‘He has also moved to the US two years back . How the dickens he managed that , I’ll never know ’
I agreed .’ Manjit in the US is like Tintin in Tibet !
We laughed out aloud .
‘ How’s everything back home ? ‘ I asked , just generally .
‘Dad’s retired ‘,he said , ‘And my sister’s wedding is over ‘
‘What !?’ I was surprised . Shocked , actually .
‘ Yeah , that ass divorced her two years back . My sister was sick of him . He wouldn’t let my sister work .He wanted my sister to chuck her career , have kids and babysit . And my sister was just about to get the Western Region to manage . Things went pretty sore . It was quite miserable .’
‘Where’s he now ?’, I asked . Again , just generally .
‘ He’s gone to Singapore now . She’s in Mumbai . Now stays with my parents . ‘
‘That’s sad . ’, said me .

Something inside me churned . Struck by a little irony , perhaps .

5 comments:

Unknown said...

@you dismissed the three first year guys in just one line.

How true is you story

Unknown said...

I agree with Sanjeev

Vijay Chougule

Unknown said...

Naveen, Nice one from you! But you missed hustle and bustle of last year which we spent at College Campus Hostel!

Unknown said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Unknown said...

I wonder what happened to the porcelain set :)
Sometimes all it takes is a familiar smell or a just a passing thought to evoke an old memory, making you feel like you are back in time, in that moment where it was created