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 fiancée. 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 .