FIRST PROFESSIONAL EXAMS

I arrived early for my Physiology viva. In my hand was Guyton and some notes. I looked around, and I saw anxious faces everywhere. Jovial personalities had turned serious as they studied from highlighted textbooks and notes.
Besides Guytons, there were Ganongs, Best and Taylors and Chatterjis. Some were sitting down on the stairs and the floor; others were standing or pacing anxiously.

Earlier, the written exams come and gone uneventfully for me. I was accustomed to sitting down for three hours and answer essay type questions. It was the Viva that I always dreaded.

When the first student came out after taking the viva, he was mobbed and bombarded with questions. ‘How was it?’; ‘What were they asking?’; ‘How is the External (examiner)?’ ‘Is Prof Nusrat Waqar in good mood?’ Some of us were the ‘message boys’ relaying what was being asked to their respective groups where the ‘knowledgeable ones’ were providing the answers verbatim or looking them up the text books before summarizing the answer for the group. There were some ‘confident ones’ too. They were sitting further away looking at chaotic scene with a relaxed expression.

Agha Arif and Aquil Haider came out after taking the viva and were confident that they had done well. Then my study group friend, Afzal Saeed came out and… he was smiling. ‘How did it go?’ I asked. He told me that the external examiner was very nice. ‘He (external) started the viva pointing to my watch and saying that it was a nice watch. I said thank you. That made me relax and the viva went great after that’.

Soon it was lunchtime and my turn had not come yet. We were told that the viva would resume in about an hour. By now, we had already spent more than four tense hours. We waited and waited, an hour stretched to two and the examiners were not back yet. To this day, I remember the tension of this wait. I know that some of our class fellows are now in academia in Pakistan. If they happen to read this blog, I request them to take steps to change the way visas are conducted, if they have not done already. Perhaps the students can be grouped in a way, that indicate to them the approximate hour of their viva.

Worry, sleep deprivation, exhaustion from sitting, standing and walking had turned my brain into mush by the time my turn came. The external indeed seemed like a nice person. He was smiling. He held out a written exam paper. On the page, there was a diagram of Loop of Henle with arrows indicating what was being excreted and what was being absorbed at various levels. I recognized the writing, it was my own paper! Suddenly, my brain simply switched off. He asked me something about the diagram but I could not understand what he was asking. Noticing my panic- stricken face, he complemented me on how well I had explained the counter current multiplier mechanism in the written and asked me to simply read from my paper. Which I did... like a robot. The sentences coming out of my mouth made no sense to me. What happened subsequently is a blur in my memory, but I know when I came out of that Viva, I was not a confident of passing.

Anatomy viva was much easier, I think because of our experiences with Stage vivas. As I sat down in front of Prof Tuqqaiya, I expected her to start the viva with some bone. Instead, she slipped something flabby in my hand. As I recovered from my shock, I realized that it was a uterus. She asked me about the insertion of the broad ligament. Which luckily, I knew. Soon the viva was over.
As I walked out, and took in a deep breath. O how good it felt! A cool breeze was blowing and I could hear the birds chirping.

HUMAY BHI YAAD HAI-- EXAM PREPERATIONS

Ramzan men Parhai!
Hai Allah Duhai !
By Aamir Ali Chaudhry
This was the Slogan in hostel in those days.
In Hostel "ALL OR NONE LAW" applies as far as studies are concerned.
When the exam date was announced, all of us got very tense. We realized, or were made to realize that we cannot study in such state of mind. Therefore, we (Asim Rehra, Alvi, Nasir Shah, and Ahmed Raza) decided to spend 4/5 days in murree before the start of studies. Alvi declared that his Uncle had a house in Ayubia; he would get the keys from Uncle (in Faisalabad) and would get back in evening. All of us packed our luggage and I accompanied Alvi to Faisalabad to get the keys. It was extremely hot when we were going on GTS but imagination of relaxing in cool breeze of Ayubia was soothing. We went to his Uncles home. I waited outside and he went inside with a smiling face. When he came out, he was no more smiling. Uncle was in angry mood(mode) and he could not gather courage to ask for the house. We had a cup of tea from nearby Khokha. He went in again and came out , then we had Pepsi from the same Khokha. This episode was repeated again and again and our Khokha bill rose higher and higher, until after sunset we abandoned the project of asking for the keys.
We went back to Lahore on some late night bus. The friends were anxiously waiting, outside the hostel with their luggage, ready for Ayubia, .We never told them about our lack of courage and narrated fake story, that the roof of house had fallen in a storm and the house is destroyed etc. etc. .Once their anger subsided (after three years), we told them the whole story.
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Once again a great narration. A good reflection of old golden days. I don't mind sitting the exams again if those days could be brought back. But things don't bundle that way we know.

Love,
Yahya
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Thanks Nauman taking me back to the days that I still cherish,,,,,,whole life was ahead of us at that time and worries were nonexistent. I also belong to the US group and me Shazib and Naveed used to study mostly in the last 2-3 months. I was one of the lucky ones as was living in my own home with lots of people catering to my all desires and still would be studying only as if I was doing my parents and family a great favour. How unthankful and naive I was! Nice to be in touch with the old friends and I don’t remember going on the Mangla trip and now realize that missed a chance of great outing.
Asaad

I CAUGHT THAT FISH AND NICKED THOSE CAKES AND PASTERIES!
By Aamir Ali
Wow. Pervaiz Iqbal told me about your blog about the Mangla Trip a few hrs ago. I enjoyed this a lot. By the way, I caught that fish and not Dr Mansoor! He drove one of the buses (left hand driven blue Iranian bus).
Naveed Yazdani, Saroosh and myself thoroughly enjoyed the cakes and pasteries which we found on the bus. Yes!... we actually nicked those and went into the other bus.
Well girls I am sorry about that…

My Early days at KE
By Asaad Alamgir
My Early days at KE were really very tense. I did not get admission on open merit at KE but migrated from Quad-i-Azam medical college, Bahawalpur . I had no friends to start with except Bilal Bin Khalid who was the only other Aitchisonian to get admission at KE (he was there on open merit).
When we went for the first lecture in anatomy I really thought that it was a mistake coming to KE as I could not understand a word of what was being said and rest of the class was busy taking notes as if it was their mother language. Felt as if all were speaking and understanding this language and I was the odd foreigner amongst them. Maybe this was because I felt as if I did not belong in this elite group and this type of things could only be grasped by people with superior intelligence. I really started having panicky feeling and tried to talk to my cousins who were doctors and they just laughed away at my condition.
I bought new Grays Anatomy and started going through that ocean of foreign literature, words of which really were alien to me but I persisted and on top of it bought Guyton’s Physiology also, and good thing was that I could understand a little bit of this one at least. It also gave me great feeling that I was now reading big impressive looking books and may someday become a great name in the field of science and medicine.
An announcement was made and the first sub-stage was announced…. Felt as if the death penalty was announced for us. That was the time I started taking refuge behind the cigarette smoke, as thought that this would keep me awake because of the nicotine surge in my neurons. A habit that persisted with me for 30 years and I only gave it up 2 years back!
Did not sleep the night before the sub-stage and had shivers down the spine on facing the examiner, don’t remember the name of DEMONstrator who took the exams. I felt as if I went through a boxing match in which I was the punching bag. I only remember that it was a part of lower limb that was being asked and somehow the exam was over in around 10 minutes or so (though it felt like hours).
After a day or so when result was given I was one of the 30-40 who passed and I could not believe what an achievement I had achieved. It relaxed me and I than started to believe that it was not a alien state and that I may survive here and by the grace of god I did, but had to die before each professional and had rebirth after each exams.
It was great to be at KE and I so cherish my time spent there, the hockey matches we played the small skirmishes we had, the jokes we had together and being exposed to the fairer sex though from a distance. Life passes before your eyes and now my children are going through this phase and I pray that all of you enjoy your children growing up like I am doing and wish the best for all of you and your families as well.

Life in KE Girls Hostel
By Naghmi Shirin


Getting admission in KE was a dream come true. We reached Lahore with high ambitions and great hope. The beauty and grandeur of the building of KEMC won our heart on first sight. The first disappointment was when we saw the girls’ hostel. It was a small building, hardly large enough to accommodate fifty or so girls altogether. [The new blocks were added after two years] Therefore, we were refused accommodation for first few months unless our senior classes moved on.
How we managed, is another story.

When we moved in the hostel, the first strange thing that came as a pleasant surprise was the word "doctor sahiba" by all the servants. All twelve girls of the first year were allotted a single dorm. The seniors had four seaters, biseaters and cubicles. Since it was a small hostel, at that, time so there was no tradition of much fooling and senior girls were very welcoming. All the fooling that we faced was in the college. As far as I recollect my roommates were, Raheela Ajmal from Gujranwala, Rubina Aslam from Sialkot, Nasreen from Gujrat, Shahida from Rawalpindi, Naheed Sheikh from Sargodha, Iffat Salim from PAF, and Fauzia Shaukat from Rahim Yar Khan, Farida Shafie from Malaysia, Afsanah from Iran and myself from Wah Cantt. I apologize if I have forgotten somebody’s name. The other students from outside Lahore like Seemein Rukh from Wah, Sofia Ismail from PAF, were staying with relatives.

Can you imagine how twelve people of different habits and backgrounds, when forced to live twenty-four hours together would manage? However, those were great times and we not only tolerated but enjoyed each other’s company [there being no other option]. Fauzia was quite particular in prayers; she used to call everybody ‘Chanda ji’ so ended up with being called Chanda ji herself. While most of us complemented ourselves if we managed at least three prayers a day. Some never bothered. Nevertheless, at that time no one was concerned with each other’s religious habits.

When we reached the room after classes, everybody had something to tell and the whole dorm kept laughing. Our dorm was also the common meeting ground of our day scholar friends .It was the place where most of the nicknames originated. [Amir Ali was Radius. Amir Qazi was Ulna there was one Hanger, Kamran Hussain was...,well…, so on so forth]

Our main difficulty was to get time for studies because every week there was a substage or some Physio test. Most of the girls chose rooftop or the gardens for some solitude. Girls’ hostel had some very beautiful gardens and I being used to the lovely garden of my house preferred that.

The other problem was to get proper sleep. Everybody had her own schedule. As a result, one or the other alarm clock was ringing all the time. It was in times like these that we realized, how our mothers took care of our needs, when they would not allow our younger siblings to even walk or talk loudly when we were asleep. I think hostel life really prepares us for the future, where for the first time one learns how to make one’s bed.

The food in the hostel was terrible. We learnt that boys’ hostel had many different mess halls and a variety of menus, but we had to survive with the same monotonous routine. Anarkali was nearby, so we could sometimes flatter our taste buds with burgers and chat but there were no home deliveries at that time. [Our children are lucky] So on weekends we sometimes tried our culinary skills, which were quite poor. There was a small kitchen provided for this purpose, mainly to make tea at odd times apart from the main mess kitchen. Chicken karahi was the easiest and the most popular even then. Hierarchy had to be maintained at all times. So we had to wait until our seniors were finished if they pleased to cook something. Sometimes our day scholar friends would invite us to their homes. I remember Mehr, Iffat, Zahra , Seema Naz and Maryam often invited me on one pretext or another. Thanks to their moms for their loving hospitality.

Preparation of exams in the hostel was an uphill task. But we had the advantage to do group studies. Many of the day scholars came to hostel for the preparation of exams. One of our sweet friends who was also our GR, had the habit of taking a night round at ten o clock and inform us in a very smug tone that she had finished her preparation and was about to go to sleep. We really panicked and started our serious study after her proclamation. First professional was the longest and toughest exam we ever had. Only after that, we realized that we are in a university and respectable citizens of this country.

First Professionals: The Exam Preparation

First Professionals: The Exam Preparation

The news hit us like a ton of bricks. Punjab University had announced the date for the first professional exam. This was not a good news for most of us. Sure, there were a few ‘overachievers’ like Mannan Babar and Aamir Ali and others, who studied regularly and could take the exam tomorrow and pass easily.

However, the rest of us studied for exams like an old car with engine trouble. We lurched forward on all four cylinders for a day or two for the sub-stage and about a week or so for the Stage. The rest of the time, we simply stalled.

Therefore, for most of us the news meant that the party was over. We would have to drastically change our lifestyle for a couple of months, if we had any hopes of passing the professionals. I realize I am applying the term 'us' rather loosely and that some of my readers would be exception to this generalization. Please let me know via your comments if you would like to be excluded from this group I call 'us'.

Since we were no longer going to college, some of us formed small study groups to study. My study group was with Saroosh and Afzal Saeed. Saroosh’s dad had passed away at a young age recently and the whole class felt the pain. When he asked Afzal and me to form a study group, we agreed.

We decided that Afzal Saeed’s house would be our place of study. I was living without my parents at my grandfather’s house on Temple Road. I drove everyday from Temple Road to Model Town Block A to study with Afzal Saeed and Saroosh. Altogether, it was about two hours round trip for me each day but I did not mind. That was two hours less I had to study. Another big attraction was the home cooked meal I got at Afzal Saeed’s house and his mom was a great cook and a gracious host.
To take a break from studies we watched ‘Mind Your Language’ on TV or played Chess or Carom with Afzal’s younger brother Jami.

Sometimes after studying at Afzal’s house, I would go to Saroosh’s house. Understandably, Saroosh was deeply affected by his Dad’s passing away. I did observe a few changes in him. For one, he had greatly increased his smoking to a level where he was chain-smoking. Secondly, Saroosh would play the song ‘Dufli waalay dufli Baja' repeatedly. The song seemed to soothe him. This song is forever etched in my brain along with memories of our preparations for first professional.

On my way home, sometimes I would stop by at Shahid Bashir’s house. Not to study, but to chat. Another attraction at Shahid’s house was of course the home-cooked meal. It was a very big deal for someone such as myself, who was neither at a hostel nor at parent’s home.
Thus, the next two months went painfully slow. My mind felt like a pail of water with hole in the bottom. The more I filled it with knowledge, the more seem to leak out from the bottom. Mercifully, the preparation time was over and it was time to take the exams.

I realize that mine is just on many different stories on how we prepared for the exams. I hope you will share your stories. How did the people in boys and girls hostels prepared for the exams? What about the day scholars?

MANGLA TRIP: YOUR COMMENTS

Dear Nauman
Excellent description. Your memory is great.
I remember few glimpses.
I swam in Mangla lake for about half an hour. ( Swimming in lakes and rivers is still my hobby. Even at this age I cannot resist this temptation. I swam in Ravi, Chenab, Jhehlum, Trimu in high floods and ice cold lakes like Satpara in Skardu).
The most important event which you have not mentioned is that on our way back, the brakes of one of the buses(those Iranian buses)failed. Nobody was ready to sit in that bus. We were only few adventure loving(read fools) who sat in that bus. On our way down our bus almost collided with a car.Then there was long stop at Dina or Jehlum at some workshop. I dont know whetehr other buses waited for us or not.
Regards
Aamir Ali Choudhry
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Nauman I remember that while we Were at Mangla somebody playing GIRL YOU WILL BE A WOMAN SOON AND SOON YOU WILL NEED A MAN on their cassete player, yes cassette player. Dont know who. On the way back I was in the bus that broke down in Dina and we spent a good few hours having jalebies and the like. By the time we got back to Lahore it was nearly midnight. I remember Me Tahir Majeed Aqueel and Agha walking on Mall road at mid night trying to find a way back home.
SHAHID BASHIR
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Nauman, excellent narration. I thoroughly enjoyed. Felt as if it was happening right in front of my eyes. Jazak Ullah.

Lots of love,
Yahya
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Nice walk down the memory lane of about 3 decades. The demonstrator who caught the fish was Dr. Mansoor Qureshi. I conducted the survey after the trip for class megazine LISTEN. Kindly ask if someone has any copy of any of our class megazines which can be scanned and put up as a link. Regards
NAVEED YAZDANI
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Dear nauman mufti, this detailed description of mangla trip was the
best gift for gloomy eid this year. million thanks.
Pervaiz Iqbal
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Nauman, what a memory I have? Can you believe I dont remember this trip at all. although I am sure I was a part of it and my old albums in Pakistan will have some photos also.
ABDUL QAYYUM
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One more thing which I clearly remember of the trip is an extremely sloppy piece of dancing we did (some of us) in the lawns where a rather disappointing lunch was served. I also remember listening to RASPUTIN, TAKE A CHANCE ON ME, SOS during the bus ride.
Regards
Naveed Yazdani
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One of the buses, was driven by Dr.Mansoor, although for a short time.
Dr. Mansoor also caught a tiny fish at Mangla.( Dr.mansoor is currently with me at Services Hospital, Lahore. Ah… the good old memories !
MOHAMMAD AZHAR.
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One more thing which I clearly remember of the trip is an extremely sloppy piece of dancing we did (some of us) in the lawns where a rather disappointing lunch was served. I also remember listening to RASPUTIN, TAKE A CHANCE ON ME, SOS during the bus ride. Regards

NAVEED YAZDANI
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Great work. I think I have many pics of the trip somewhere in my collection. Will try to find them out and post them.
Nauman, please don’t stop. Continue describing other events and memories.

TALHA RAZA
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Yes ,it was a great trip enjoyed by all of us.I remember the tasty sandwiches brought by Raheela jaffer which she kept feeding us during the whole journey.{perhaps she thought hostillites needed a change in their menu] Iffat Salim was naughty as usual and kept us smiling .Weather was woderful and some great songs were being played.I wonder, how happy and carefree were those days!
NAGHMI SHIRIN

The Mangla Trip

The four buses were outside the canteen ready to leave. It was our first major outing as a class. Excitement was in the air. One of the buses was designated the ‘girls’ bus’, since all the girls were going to sit in the same bus. However, there would room for a few boys on that bus. I do not know who were the ‘lucky’ (read influential) boys who sat in that bus. There were some demonstrators chaperoning the trip presumably to keep things ‘civil’. Naturally, they will sit in the girls’ bus. In addition, the class reps ‘had to be there too’. My friends and I, tried to be together in the same non-girls’ bus.

Our bus was crowded, as were the others but our spirits were high. We sang Punjabi tappeys until our voices became hoarse. Some of us like Qayyum, Sadiq Zia and Pervaiz knew the tappeys well while others like me knew some words here and there but that did not stop us from joining the chorus. I would hear the words and sing with half a second delay. With most voices keeping the rhythm, it did not matter much. The idea was to sing and have fun.

On the way, we made too many unscheduled stops therefore; we reached Mangla a bit late. We were all very hungry. We had hot soft drinks and cold chicken. We would have preferred hot chicken and cold soft drinks but we were so hungry that we would have eaten a cardboard. At least it was real food and we were thankful.

After lunch, we went to see the hydroelectric power station and then strolled around the lake. One of the demonstrators had brought a fishing rod and I saw him catch a fish. Apparently so did some of the girls, as one of them responded to a questionnaire after the trip that the most memorable moment of the trip was that sight.

I was enjoying the view of the lake when I heard a thud. I looked around Kamran Hussain jumping up and trying to be in the photo for which Aamir Ali and Aamir Ali Choudhry were posing. It was a tall order to say the least, considering the height differential between Aamir Ali and Kamran Hussain. That moment is wonderfully captured in a photo presented in this blog. Yes, it is Kamran Hussain’s hand that prevents you from seeing part of my face, but that is okay; At least he managed to dangle on Aamir’s shoulder long enough for the snap.

While others were busy taking photos, I decided to take my shoes off and walk over the stones to dip my feet in the Mangla Lake. I spotted a group of girls just standing and staring at the lake. In a rare bold move, I suggested to them to take their shoes and dip their feet in water too. They politely declined, saying ‘We prefer to just look at the lake. Thanks’. To this, I made a comment to no one in particular, that ‘Dakhney aur mehsoos karney mein farq hoota hai’.
No response.
I decided to move away from the spot thinking to myself, ‘Nauman, this talking to the girls thing is so overrated’. It was then I saw that they were taking their shoes off and dipping their feet in water.
Okay, a delayed response perhaps, or maybe they wanted to do that all along, and I was simply in their way.

The sun was about to set and it was time to leave. Reluctantly, we packed ourselves back in the buses. For some reason, it seemed a lot more crowded. Luckily, I found a window seat and soon, I dozed off. When I opened my eyes again, I saw familiar tall structure of Minar-i-Pakistan, standing proud and tall in the night lights of Lahore.


• The Mangla Trip took place on September 20, 1979, according to Naveed Yazdani.
• The photos presented with this blog were shamelessly copied from Aamir Ali Choudhry’s Facebook page. I hope he will forgive me for not asking first.
• This is my recollections of the trip. I do not claim accuracy.
• Please contribute your recollections about the trip for the rest of us.