The Way We Are. By Naghmi Shirin
Yahya and Nauman have given a beautiful description of their lives after graduation. I thought a lot of people would come up with their stories but perhaps the doctors are the hardest working lot and most pressed for time. Though it takes a lot of effort to pick up the pen but once you start writing then you enjoy it.
I had decided to take up paediatrics when i went through rotation of paedes ward in 4th year. Prof Shaukat Raza Khan was the most gentle and dedicated person I have ever seen. Moreover, when I looked at babies and they smiled back at me, I knew that i would enjoy this specialty (though later I found that they cried more than they smiled).
In final professional MBBS, I was awarded the Burton Brown Silver Medal for standing first in clinical medicine. When i was asked to choose my house job by the board of professors, without hesitation I said "paediatrics", though one of the profs had advised me to take up medicine instead..Anyhow, I enjoyed my house job thoroughly and learnt a lot.
Here i found out that most of our class fellows were very ''Shareef "and a great company. Abdul Qayyum, Aqeel Haider, Israr, Amir Qazi were not only very good in their work but were very pleasant. Most of the time we helped each other against the wrath of professors. There used to be a morning conference
Daily, where we had to present any deaths over the last 24 hours.We always dreaded the questions from Prof Sahib. Once a death occurred in nursery and the body was handed over to the wrong family. They left for their village at night. After a few hours, the mistake was realized. Aqeel was on duty in the nursery. He took the address and left for their village. As the address was not complete, he resorted to announcements from their local mosque. After a hectic effort throughout the night, he was back with the body of the baby before morning, much to the applause of everybody. I think only a dedicated soldier like him could do that.
After my post graduation, I was selected as Dist. Paediatrician. There we had the first brush with the how the things are conducted in Pakistan. The DDs, DHOs the MS type of people don’t like people who are better qualified. So we decided at a very early stage to have our own set up. By the grace of God, we had a very good response and we said good-bye to Govt job and have never regretted our decision. I also worked as a consultant to a trust hospital. Since i loved children, so i have always enjoyed my work.
Recently ,my husband who is an orthopaedic surgeon, has started his pain clinic and I help him along because he is often overworked .I am learning pain management techniques and more over we can spend more time together... I think, all of us, where both the spouses are working should take a break and give more time to each other.
Showing posts with label King Edward Medical. Show all posts
Showing posts with label King Edward Medical. Show all posts
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Sunday, September 19, 2010
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?
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?
Sunday, September 12, 2010
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.
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.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Early years at KE- Part 2
Day Scholars and ‘Hostelites’
Speaking about various groups in our class, there were two distinct categories. One were the day scholars and the others were the ‘hostelites’. The day scholars had homes in Lahore. Among my close friends Shahid Bashir, Aamir Ali, Afzal Saeed, Tajummul, Agha Arif, Sohail Kiyani, Kamran Hameed and Nasir Javed, Javed Ajmal were day scholars. And then there were people who lived in the hostels. Among my close friends Qayyum (Multan), Sadiq Zia (Sadiqabad), Talha and Mateen (Islamabad) were in that group. The last two I mentioned, I met for the first time not in King Edward but MAO College hostel. More about this soon.
Ki Jaana Maen Kuon
By this time my readers may wonder, just who is this guy. In one word, I would call myself an ‘anomaly’. My mother and father were from Lahore. My Dada Jan was Post Master General of Lahore soon after partition. He lived in Moochi Darwaze. He build two houses, one in Lytton Road where he lived and the other in Temple Road which he rented. He passed away in 1977 when I was at GC. I was born in Peshawar where my dad was a Naval recruiting officer at that time. I received early schooling in Karachi and at age nine moved to Chittagong in 1968, where my father was Chief Education officer at Marine Academy. After spending three beautiful years there, we were lucky to catch the last flight out before the 1971 war. I then studied at Cathedral School for a year, I moved to Cadet College Petaro in interior Sind. Why not Hasan Abdal? Dad was back in Karachi and Petaro was nearer. I did my Matric from Petaro and topped the Hyderabad Board. I won Nishan-e-Haider Scholarship which paid for me to study anywhere in the country all expenses paid, I chose GC for my F.Sc, because my Dada Jan and Dad studied here. And that is how I ended up in Iqbal Hostel. So, even though I had two ancestral houses in Lahore, yet had to live in a hostel. If you are confused by now, I do not blame you. So was I. I would say to myself Ki Jaana maen koun and I still do. Okay, enough about my background.
No place to go
Since my family was still in Karachi, I had to look for hostel accommodation. The only ‘accomodation’ I could find was the disaster section of Hall Road Hostel which had been earmarked for demolition. I would spare you the description. After spending only one night in that hellhole of a place I got a tip that there was nice accommodation available in MAO College Hostel. It was there I met Talha and Mateen and we became friends instantly. Talha was light hearted and outgoing. Mateen (may Allah have a place for him in Janat) was gentle, serious and hard working. I still remember our brisk walks from MAO College through Anarkali to KE. Sometimes we took the bus. We paid the bus fare, until I learnt the ‘code’. I would see that MAO college students who boarded the bus with us would simply say ‘MO College’ when the conductor came to collect the fare. The conductor nodded and moved on without charging a fare. However when I tried that the first time it did not work. The conductor made me pay. I then realized that I had made two mistakes. One, I had said ‘MAO College’ instead of ‘MO College’ and second I was carrying my lab coat. Needless to say I corrected my errors and never had to pay the fare anymore.
I have many fond memories with Talha and Mateen. I remember that both of them kept their books very neat and clean. Their Gray’s Antomy had covers and looked brand new. They used fancy book marks. I, on the other hand would use the femur or any other bone I was studying as my bookmark. You do not want to know how my Gray’s Anatomy looked. Mateen always got good good grades and passed all his anatomy ‘stages’ in first attempt. I wish I could say the same for Talha and me!
House at last, but no home.
My comfortable stay at MAO College however soon came to an end. I learnt that one of our ancestral houses was being illegally occupied after the original renters had walked away without paying rent for a year. It was up to me and my younger brother to get that vacated. I would not go in details here but I will tell you this. I told the illegal occupants that we were from ‘MO College’ and they left. Some of you will remember this house in Temple Road. This was the same house on the roof top of which we celebrated the Basant that Shahid, Qayyum and Sadiq Zia remember. Living there was very tough for my brother and me because we did not know or had time to cook or clean.
Girls of King Edward Class of 84
And the competition to get noticed by them.
Sorry for the last few passages. They became rather gloomy. As one poet says ‘wajood e zun se haye tusweer a qaenat me rung’. So here it is, the ‘color’. Besides adding color to blog, I am writing this for the current generation of Kemcolians for whom this may sound totally greek.
Girls at King Edward were a chosen few. After all,they were the top 20 girls from all over Punjab. The ratio of 20 girls to 200 boys was huge disadvantage to the boys. If you were a boy, what were your chances to get noticed by a girl, any girl for that matter? And if you preferred attention from someone you felt attracted to, forget-about-it. True there were some boys with ‘quality attributes’ such as being handsome. Imran Rahid or Imran Nazeer come to mind besides others. Some were tall and smart like Aamir Ali and Saeed Uddin. Others had cars and flashy clothes. Rest of us had to do weird stuff to get noticed. Some sat in the third row, others were loud in the back with trademark sounds that they produced during the physiology lectures. Some had ‘great entries’ like a chant of ‘Ghora Ghora’ from his friends and supporters for Athar Usmani. Sohail Kiyani was of course ‘CR’ and Aamir Ali had several quality attributes all rolled into one.
While some of us gave up trying to get noticed, others tried anything and everything. From colorful gaudy clothes, to strong perfume. One classmate had a toothpick in his mouth and wore sunglasses. No need to name names you know who you are. I too tried a few things myself and determined that I was invisible to the girls. I also tried sitting in the third row and making loud funny comments (At least I thought they were funny). No one looked back. No smile, no giggle. I was already convinced I was invisible to the girls, I now concluded that I was inaudible too.
Since my family was in Karachi and some of my friends from Cadet College Petaro were at Dow Medical and Sind Medical College I visit these colleges and thought wow these guys are so lucky. My friends there would routinely be having chai samosas with girls in small groups. There were also some established couples. Even in Lahore, I visited my friends at Allama Iqbal. Things were different there as well. For one thing there was no secluded cafeteria like ours. The boys were routinely seen talking to girls on matters beyond the lame asking for notes that we some time resorted to. Incidently Lalarukh, my wife is from Allama Iqbal but we never met during college years.
Coming Up Next
The magazines such as ‘Listen’ and ‘Sheikon ki Sheikian’
The physiology lectures by Nusrat Waqar and Dissection Hall.
The first Professional exams.
Celebration after the first professional results.
Mysteries to me
This will be a constant feature. Besides celebrating and laughing at our past, I do have some ‘selfish motives’ I hope in response to this blog my readers will provide me answers to some questions that to this day are mysteries to me.
One mystery from my previous blog was
1. Who was or were the authors of ‘Batain Humary Ghor se sun loo’
Today I will add the following
2. How did all the girls fit into that tiny room know as ‘Girls Cafeteria’.
3. Was I really invisible to girls?
I realize that the answer to both of these question depend on response from a few, none of which may be reading this blog, but hey, after all these years can you blame me for trying?
Speaking about various groups in our class, there were two distinct categories. One were the day scholars and the others were the ‘hostelites’. The day scholars had homes in Lahore. Among my close friends Shahid Bashir, Aamir Ali, Afzal Saeed, Tajummul, Agha Arif, Sohail Kiyani, Kamran Hameed and Nasir Javed, Javed Ajmal were day scholars. And then there were people who lived in the hostels. Among my close friends Qayyum (Multan), Sadiq Zia (Sadiqabad), Talha and Mateen (Islamabad) were in that group. The last two I mentioned, I met for the first time not in King Edward but MAO College hostel. More about this soon.
Ki Jaana Maen Kuon
By this time my readers may wonder, just who is this guy. In one word, I would call myself an ‘anomaly’. My mother and father were from Lahore. My Dada Jan was Post Master General of Lahore soon after partition. He lived in Moochi Darwaze. He build two houses, one in Lytton Road where he lived and the other in Temple Road which he rented. He passed away in 1977 when I was at GC. I was born in Peshawar where my dad was a Naval recruiting officer at that time. I received early schooling in Karachi and at age nine moved to Chittagong in 1968, where my father was Chief Education officer at Marine Academy. After spending three beautiful years there, we were lucky to catch the last flight out before the 1971 war. I then studied at Cathedral School for a year, I moved to Cadet College Petaro in interior Sind. Why not Hasan Abdal? Dad was back in Karachi and Petaro was nearer. I did my Matric from Petaro and topped the Hyderabad Board. I won Nishan-e-Haider Scholarship which paid for me to study anywhere in the country all expenses paid, I chose GC for my F.Sc, because my Dada Jan and Dad studied here. And that is how I ended up in Iqbal Hostel. So, even though I had two ancestral houses in Lahore, yet had to live in a hostel. If you are confused by now, I do not blame you. So was I. I would say to myself Ki Jaana maen koun and I still do. Okay, enough about my background.
No place to go
Since my family was still in Karachi, I had to look for hostel accommodation. The only ‘accomodation’ I could find was the disaster section of Hall Road Hostel which had been earmarked for demolition. I would spare you the description. After spending only one night in that hellhole of a place I got a tip that there was nice accommodation available in MAO College Hostel. It was there I met Talha and Mateen and we became friends instantly. Talha was light hearted and outgoing. Mateen (may Allah have a place for him in Janat) was gentle, serious and hard working. I still remember our brisk walks from MAO College through Anarkali to KE. Sometimes we took the bus. We paid the bus fare, until I learnt the ‘code’. I would see that MAO college students who boarded the bus with us would simply say ‘MO College’ when the conductor came to collect the fare. The conductor nodded and moved on without charging a fare. However when I tried that the first time it did not work. The conductor made me pay. I then realized that I had made two mistakes. One, I had said ‘MAO College’ instead of ‘MO College’ and second I was carrying my lab coat. Needless to say I corrected my errors and never had to pay the fare anymore.
I have many fond memories with Talha and Mateen. I remember that both of them kept their books very neat and clean. Their Gray’s Antomy had covers and looked brand new. They used fancy book marks. I, on the other hand would use the femur or any other bone I was studying as my bookmark. You do not want to know how my Gray’s Anatomy looked. Mateen always got good good grades and passed all his anatomy ‘stages’ in first attempt. I wish I could say the same for Talha and me!
House at last, but no home.
My comfortable stay at MAO College however soon came to an end. I learnt that one of our ancestral houses was being illegally occupied after the original renters had walked away without paying rent for a year. It was up to me and my younger brother to get that vacated. I would not go in details here but I will tell you this. I told the illegal occupants that we were from ‘MO College’ and they left. Some of you will remember this house in Temple Road. This was the same house on the roof top of which we celebrated the Basant that Shahid, Qayyum and Sadiq Zia remember. Living there was very tough for my brother and me because we did not know or had time to cook or clean.
Girls of King Edward Class of 84
And the competition to get noticed by them.
Sorry for the last few passages. They became rather gloomy. As one poet says ‘wajood e zun se haye tusweer a qaenat me rung’. So here it is, the ‘color’. Besides adding color to blog, I am writing this for the current generation of Kemcolians for whom this may sound totally greek.
Girls at King Edward were a chosen few. After all,they were the top 20 girls from all over Punjab. The ratio of 20 girls to 200 boys was huge disadvantage to the boys. If you were a boy, what were your chances to get noticed by a girl, any girl for that matter? And if you preferred attention from someone you felt attracted to, forget-about-it. True there were some boys with ‘quality attributes’ such as being handsome. Imran Rahid or Imran Nazeer come to mind besides others. Some were tall and smart like Aamir Ali and Saeed Uddin. Others had cars and flashy clothes. Rest of us had to do weird stuff to get noticed. Some sat in the third row, others were loud in the back with trademark sounds that they produced during the physiology lectures. Some had ‘great entries’ like a chant of ‘Ghora Ghora’ from his friends and supporters for Athar Usmani. Sohail Kiyani was of course ‘CR’ and Aamir Ali had several quality attributes all rolled into one.
While some of us gave up trying to get noticed, others tried anything and everything. From colorful gaudy clothes, to strong perfume. One classmate had a toothpick in his mouth and wore sunglasses. No need to name names you know who you are. I too tried a few things myself and determined that I was invisible to the girls. I also tried sitting in the third row and making loud funny comments (At least I thought they were funny). No one looked back. No smile, no giggle. I was already convinced I was invisible to the girls, I now concluded that I was inaudible too.
Since my family was in Karachi and some of my friends from Cadet College Petaro were at Dow Medical and Sind Medical College I visit these colleges and thought wow these guys are so lucky. My friends there would routinely be having chai samosas with girls in small groups. There were also some established couples. Even in Lahore, I visited my friends at Allama Iqbal. Things were different there as well. For one thing there was no secluded cafeteria like ours. The boys were routinely seen talking to girls on matters beyond the lame asking for notes that we some time resorted to. Incidently Lalarukh, my wife is from Allama Iqbal but we never met during college years.
Coming Up Next
The magazines such as ‘Listen’ and ‘Sheikon ki Sheikian’
The physiology lectures by Nusrat Waqar and Dissection Hall.
The first Professional exams.
Celebration after the first professional results.
Mysteries to me
This will be a constant feature. Besides celebrating and laughing at our past, I do have some ‘selfish motives’ I hope in response to this blog my readers will provide me answers to some questions that to this day are mysteries to me.
One mystery from my previous blog was
1. Who was or were the authors of ‘Batain Humary Ghor se sun loo’
Today I will add the following
2. How did all the girls fit into that tiny room know as ‘Girls Cafeteria’.
3. Was I really invisible to girls?
I realize that the answer to both of these question depend on response from a few, none of which may be reading this blog, but hey, after all these years can you blame me for trying?
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