😰 Unexpected consequences of good deeds

From Biswajit Basu:

Here is a story I missed telling earlier but I just remembered a few days back and told Tuki & Deepak:

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*MY LIFE'S MOST EMBARRASSING INCIDENT*

This is a story of perhaps 40 years ago.  I was down from my ship for my exams (can't remember which) and studying at home in Delhi. We had a maid, Paapati, a very hardworking  Tamilian lass who stayed in our servants quarters with her hubby who was a cook in the Ministry of Labour. This lady was pregnant.

Her hubby had taken a complete month's leave in anticipation of her delivery.  But she did not oblige and he had to go back to work.

One morning while I was studying, my mother burst into the room and said that Paapati was getting severe labour pains and her hubby could not be contacted.  So I was to take her immediately to hospital.  So I packed her into an  auto and went to the Emergency Ward at Safdarjang Hospital, which was the nearest.

They were quick and took her away immediately saying that delivery was imminent and asked me to pay her fees.

I went to the cash counter and paid answering questions like my name, age, family details etc. While departing from the counter, 2 fat ladies sidled up to me and asked me how many children I had.  I honestly answered I had one (Piya).  Then one of those fat ladies with a particularly sickly, sweet smile said that since I was getting my second child, "katwa lijiye" (jargon of those times)! implying vasectomy!  Soon a crowd gathered and these two ladies kept exhorting me to be patriotic with promises of transistors, a bicycle etc.

I escaped somehow and rushed back to the cashier and told him that while I had certainly paid for the delivery, the girl was our maid.  The cashier ruffled through his papers and said my papers  had already 'gone' and he would try to correct it and I should come the next day.

I then returned to Emergency to show them the payment challan and met a whole lot of smiling doctors who joyfully  announced I was now the father of a bonny girl!

 

Those were Sanjay Gandhi's days and I was terrified that those two fat ladies would send goons after me to have me vasectomised by force in the same hospital.  So I decided to escape from this predicament and run home and tell Ma and Moon.

 Moon was fortunately an intern in Safdarjang at that time and so I requested her to have the record corrected in the hospital.  But she could never conclusively confirm it had been done.

I also castigated my Mom for sending me off on a sensitive job like that.  But to be honest, what else could she do?

So around 40 years have passed since then and that girl, whose delivery fees I paid, has probably  gone through half her life with my name listed as her father in her Birth Certificate issued by Safdarjang Hospital!

♾️ Doubly related

One of the grand matriarch of our extended family is Arati Ghosh (Mawana-Noida-Bangalore). Her elder son, Partho Ghosh’s wedding is one of the few big family gatherings from my childhood. It was the first time I met many of my distant cousins, most of whom I still haven’t met again. But Arati Maashi stood out from the crowd, and till this day, continues to stay in constant touch. 

I remember even my formidable mom was in awe of her discipline. She always narrated the story of how they were with Maashi for a meal, and she threw out an entire serving dish, just because it slightly touched another dish on the table (thereby becoming ‘aytho/ jhootha/ impure). The incident left such a strong impression on my mother that every time her name came up in a conversation, that story was sure to be told and retold! To her, Arati Maashi was a family role model of ‘bhodrota’ and tradition! She had no trouble accepting that she was scared of her! By the time I grew up to interact with her independently, she was much mellowed down and I remember being in Bangalore during my first job as a trainee in Unilever, and visiting their newly built beautiful house. With Sonjoy-da and Nisha-di being talented architects, who have gone on to become much respected in their careers, the house was truly an airy wonder of light and space. And within it, Atari Maashi’s gracious hospitality is second to none. Last month, my husband Rupesh was able to drop in for a visit during a business trip. What started as plans for a quick visit over breakfast became a full fledged multi-course delicious dinner! And Rupesh got the full ‘jamai’ treatment! 

^{(L-R: Sonjoy Ghosh, Nisha Matthew Ghosh, Rupesh Tripathi, Arati Ghosh)}

During this visit, an interesting point came up - I have always called Sonjuda as my brother but he thought I was his niece. It was my sister Surabhi (Tuki) who reminded us of the double relation. I am both cousin and niece to him since Arati Maashi is related to us by both birth AND by her marriage!! 

And who else can clear up this circular family connection than my Uncle Biswajit Basu, the historian and storyteller of the family! 

Here it is, in his own words: 

(From Biswajit Basu)

I'll explain it to you so it is clear once and for all. Tuki is right.  The cause of the confusion is the double relationship.  Here goes the explanation:

Aratidi's son is Sanju and Aratidi is my jethamoshai's (my father's next elder brother's) daughter.  That makes Aratidi Moon's and my first cousin.  Therefore Sanju is Moon and my nephew.  Therefore, by this relationship Sanju is your cousin.

Now, Jorbagh's Maima's brother, Shyamal Jamaibabu, married Aratidi and Sanju is their son.  That makes Aratidi my Maima too and Sanju then becomes my cousin and also your mama.

Now, since my relationship with Aratidi as my first cousin is much closer and more direct than through Shyamal Jamaibabu which is more convoluted, therefore I regard Aratadi as my cousin sister making Sanju my nephew.  That goes for Moon too.  So by this  closer relationship, Sanju is your cousin (but a mama by the more distant relationship)

Who said family branches are always straight! 

Remembering Monisha Choudhury

Remembering Monisha Choudhury on her birthday, January 10.

By Pallavi Choudhury Tripathi

You would have been 69 today. Still can’t believe you are no longer with us. When we were kids, we thought it was very cool that your birthday was on Jan 10 and Baba’s on Jan 11, so the midnight between the two, we could technically wish you both! We actually did set alarms a few times to do exactly that, and you went along even though you were not a late night person. But we still wanted two cakes!! 

Funnily, since we shifted in together to Noida in 2014, we’ve always ended up with 2 cakes for almost every celebration, whether it would be you baking or getting one, or Tuki baking or sending one, in addition to the one I would get to mark the occasion. But you only had one birthday with Baba in Jan 2015, before he left us that September. The double cakes continued. Now, you are both together again, and for the first time in my life there are no more January double cakes to start a new year of birthdays. 

Happy Birthday Ma 🎂 🎂. Miss you everyday.

Some memories from your last birthday:

🔄 6 Decades, 2 Six year old girls and 1 Hula hoop

While going through Mom’s (Monisha Choudhury) old photos, I came across this little gem on her Facebook. 

^{(L-R: Anima Basu, MK Basu, Monisha Choudhury, Pronoti De, Biswajit Basu)}

“With my parents, brother and aunt. Bangalore 1959.

This house was special and beautiful . It had a solid teak round door opening into the balcony on the first floor where we are standing in a curved corner. The grill...partly visible had a silver paint and was quite unique in design. 2/1 Broungton Cross Road just off Mahatama Gandhi road was a house in then a serene suburb. On A bread nut tree across the road where Bush babies..Loris who were spotted rarely!”

Added by Biswajit Basu, May 2021:

“Our address in Bangalore was 2/1, Brunton Cross Road. It was parallel to the Mahatma Gandhi Road and between Brunton Road and Primrose Lane at right angles. There lived an old English couple in a sprawling house in front of ours and the Manekshaws. It had breadfruit, jackfruit and silk-cotton trees. The lovely forested environs is completely built up now and our house is an ad agency office!

The English gentleman treated us as Mr Wilson treats Dennis! 😃. I walked two miles to school from home.”

(There’s a little more about Brunton Cross Road neighbours in this post as recounted by Ma, just three months back)

In Mom’s inimitable style, she could recall every detail in every old photo or memory, and layer stories and stories on them. I wished I could run to her with this photo and ask her about it. The photo did spark off a story of my own. 

February is the best season here, and we spend a lot of time in the garden. One such day was February 24, 2019. We were in the garden and the children were playing with hoops. My younger daughter, Aria, wanted to learn how to hula hoop. But I had never played with it. Then, we discovered that Mom had been an avid hooper in her childhood! She was instantly roped into the hooping madness! 

She talked of hooping with different body parts, and demonstrated with her arm (the only one she could do without having to get up from the chair!) Much hilarity ensued as she tried to teach the technique to the children. 

A sunny February morning spent in fun and games. No, Aria did not get the technique of hooping down at that time. But, the next year brought the Covid 2020 lockdown. Stuck at home, she tried it again late summer. 

In August 2020, she turned 6, just as old as her Dida had been in the 1959 photograph. By October 2020, she had the technique down and was hooping away till she got tired! She even started hooping to songs. And all along, her Dida was there - to cheer her on, and watch her skill rekindle in her granddaughter.  

6 decades, two 6 year old girls and one hula hoop. 

👭Sisters Day out

By Asmita Basu (Toto):

Here is my favourite story of MM (Moon Maashi aka Dr. Monisha Choudhury) for your collection. 

I can’t remember the year exactly, it would have been 2005 or 06, with Diwali a few days away. The Metro had just started. Ma and Baba were visiting me in Delhi. There was excitement in the air as I got ready for work in the morning. ‘Moon’ was taking Ma (Atreyi Basu) out for the day. Of the many delights planned (and related repeatedly… in great detail…), a Metro ride was the main attraction!! I rolled my eyes and said ‘have fun’ before I left. I returned to Netaji Nagar late in the evening to the news of the bomb blasts in Sarojini Nagar. I was greeted by two giggling and slightly hysterical sisters. So this is how their day went—

Before boarding the metro to Darya Gunj, Ma decided to take photos, as was her wont. MM posed obligingly. All this INSIDE the Metro station. I doubt if even Metro promos have such extensive and joyous clicks. Unfortunately, the Metro officials didn’t take this ‘security breach’ too kindly. Ma’s camera was confiscated and they were marched off to the Metro office. Unfazed by her captivity, MM had long chats with the security personnel and everyone else around. They discovered that the halwai that supplied samosas to Lady Hardinge, was also favored by the Metro personnel. Much praise was heaped on the halwai and a consensus reached on the superiority of his samosas. Before letting the geriatric threats go, said samosas were ordered. They were fed, gently rebuked and made to promise that they will never take photos inside Metro stations again. You’d think that the sisters had learnt their lesson. But no. 

After getting to Daryagunj and spending happy hours shopping and gorging, MM decided to buy firecrackers for Rupesh (who was still a notun jamai, and took Diwali very seriously). So they went back to the Metro station, with a bagful of crackers… or explosives as the Metro prefers to call them. They didn’t make it past the x-ray machine. They beat a hasty retreat before being declared bona fide security threats. It was a sheepish auto ride home. And just as they settled down, the news of the Sarojini Nagar blasts broke!!

Author notes:

- Lady Hardinge Medical College - LHMC - was where she worked for over 35 years till retirement in 2018

- The Sarojini Nagar blasts occurred on 29th October, 2005 (Wikipedia), 2 days before Diwali. 

- Rupesh and I shifted to Gurgaon from Mumbai in the summer of 2005, to be closer to my parents. That was our first Diwali together in the same city. 

- Recent picture of the sisters, brother Biswajit Basu and family. Sep 22, 2020 video meeting in lockdown times. Pic Credit to Prajna Sen (Taddy Maashi) 

😞 REQUEIM FOR MY SISTER

By Biswajit Basu for Monisha Choudhury

Moon you have  relinquished your worldly status and left your friends, relatives, students and colleagues forlorn.  We, you left behind, will miss you sorely and we already realise how much.

Yours was a life of honest, steadfast and straight thinking, of keeping your focus on your objectives, of the grit of steadfast determination.  On the other side, you held the world in compassion in a profession where people tend to lose theirs.  I remember the time when you cried and cried when your patient who had been bitten by a rabid dog and who you had been desperately trying to save died.  I also remember how much you cried when you got your quota of vasectomies and tubectomies that you had to deliver to the government in those horrid Sanjay Gandhi days.  I always marvelled how you could be so prim and proper and headmistressly on one side and still retain a soft heart of pure gold on the other.

Yesterday marked the end of of our 68 year sojourn that we walked this Earth together.  I remember the day you were born and Daddy, Dadu, me and Mama had gone to visit Ma in the maternity ward.  Ma offered me a banana which was on her bedside table which I accepted and demolished it with a gusto which I  exclusively reserve for  eatables.  On the return in the car, Dadu castigated me for accepting that banana which he said was actually meant for you.  So even before you were born, I was stealing things that were yours!

And so we led our happy army childhood in big houses with big compounds and gardens which, incongruously Daddy described as 'genteel poverty'.  I remember you as a 3 year old in London with a big parakeet, as big as you, on your shoulder.  I remember we played catch me if you can in the garden and the catcher was supposed to be dirty (a guinea pig) and when caught he/she was 'guinea-ed'.  Remember our lovely vacations every summer to the hills? Then came the years of separation as we chose the trajectories to our respective careers. 

Then we saw Daddy go first after a five year ordeal with strokes.  Then came Ma's turn and she left after a short illness.  We were now suddenly orphans!

We passed our lives busy with the work in our respective professions. We got married, you to Panna and ne to Tulu.  Panna was a friend and today, a God, and I still ask him for guidance in troubled times.

Even when we were apart we always stayed in contact and sometimes met in distant cities (I remember that lunch in London when we got sozzled on wine and champagne and I prayed that you would reach your hostel back  safely)!

Today you are gone leaving us for a better world.  So be it. But I wish you would have stayed longer.  

So farewell, Moon, you will not be forgotten in this world.  You led a good and productive life.

 But all things, even our Universe, must come to an end  and  goes through different dimensions.  So have you departed our dimension forever to a better one. 

 *Au revoir*.

 That was the essence of our lives  We fought, played and cried together. 

Those were the days, dear Moon,

They have come to an end, but too soon

We'd laugh and play forever and a day

We led the lives we chose

We fought, but never to bruise

Those were the days

Yes, those were the days.

Farewell Moon.  We had a great life!

Jan 2021

🙏 Farewell Ma (Dr Monisha Choudhury)

When I first started this blog, I had no inkling Ma (Dr Monisha Choudhury) would leave us so soon. Her razor sharp recollection, memories of details and linking one situation to another, provided rich commentary to the blog posts here till now. It is impossible to believe she will no longer add her own additions to every story told. 

Rest in peace Ma 🙏😔

On Apr 21, 2021, she tested positive for covid. Starting with mild symptoms, she developed a persistent cough and weakness. Back in Dec 2014, she had fought swine flu with 3 weeks on ventilator and came back with a vengeance! Discharged in the second week of Jan, she immediately planned and executed her grandson Ashwin’s mukhe-bhaat by end of the month! Despite losing her beloved husband to cancer in Sep 2015, she persevered, becoming the President of the Indian Academy of Cytologists and presenting his rare case of cancer to an international audience in Yokohama, within months. With a history of resilience and fighting spirit, we all teetered on the edge of hope, despite her co-morbidities. 

She always said she wanted to work till her dying day, and her wish came true. Retiring from government service in Jan 2018, she immediately joined Sharda University the next month, till the Covid lockdown in 2020. 

At her LHMC Farewell dinner at BBQ Nation, Noida on Feb 10, 2018, with her farewell gift watch. 


LHMC Farewell Department photograph

After an year of lockdown, she got her first vaccine shot and joined Noida Institute of Medical Sciences in March 2021. So happy to be back in the teaching chair, she was taking vivas and correcting answer sheets as an external examiner to LHMC even on the day she was hospitalised!

(Covid Vaccine first day first dose, Mar 01, 2021/ Covishield)

(NIMS, HOD Pathology, Mar 03 2021)

She tested positive for Covid on April 21, 2021; just as the deadly second wave hit India and collapsed the health infrastructure. Despite starting with mild symptoms, she developed a persistent cough. With co-morbidities of diabetes, hypertension and renal impairment; along with past history of ventilator in swine flu, we took no chances and got her admitted at the earliest availability at Yatharth Greater Noida on Sunday April 25th, evening 7-8pm. 

She was in covid ward but was shifted to HDU on Tuesday night due to declining O2. She suffered a collapse on Tuesday early morning 3:30 by O2 falling to 50s but was able to come back to 80s on bipap. From there she rose to maintain 90-92 on bipap but could not go off high flow pressure. 

On Sunday, May 02, 2021, she collapsed in cardiac arrest at 9:33am and could not be revived. 

Within the covid weekend lockdown, her last rites were completed by me at Antim Niwas, Noida; at around 9-9:30am on May 03, 2021. 

Rupesh, my husband, was my rock and the main person doing all the real work assisted by our drivers Niranjan and Brijesh. Surabhi (my sister), her husband and son, flew in on May 02 evening to lend their shoulders. 

Throughout her hospitalisation, we had a network of many doctors who were her and Baba’s (Dr Panna Choudhury) friends and colleagues. They guided us throughout and used their own networks to help. A concerned network of family and other friends also kept regular track of her progress. (On that last fateful call from Dr Vinay at Yatharth HDU, we had Dr Ashok Dutta on line with us. He recently had seen his own son through the illness. One of Baba’s oldest friends, it was in his house that my paternal grandparents stayed when they came to discuss and fix my parents marriage in the 1970s! As recently as just before lockdown, he and Ma had also been colleagues at Sharda Hospital.)

Yet with all our combined efforts, we could not save her. She was scared and alone in the hospital and I tried to reassure her in every call. Her last call came on Saturday afternoon just when we had a major fire in the house. I stood in the neighbouring bank branch driveway and reassured her she was doing well. She was scared, upset that they hadn’t changed her clothes, and wanted to know when she would be discharged. I tried to reassure her, keep her fighting, give her hope. She ended the call on my last words ever to her, I love you. 

I’m so lost, this is the third time I’ve written and rewritten this post. So much happened in such a short time. I’m spinning like a planet without its sun, trying to take it one step at a time. Sleep eludes me. I miss you Ma 😔

(Times of India, Hindustan Times announcement on May 03, 2021)

(Last rites and cremation at Antim Niwas) 🙏

She’s all yours again Baba. May you be our guiding lights, always. 

(Wedding of Dr Panna Choudhury and Dr Monisha Choudhury neé Basu. March 06, 1978)

🚂 Memories from another era

By Monisha Choudhury:

My mother's (Anima Basu nee Dey) father was Basanta Kumar Dey and Grandmom Parimal Dey (nee Mitra), after whom the Parimal cottage in Jorbagh is named. Dadu was a Senior officer in the railways and always travelled first class or had an entire bogey for himself and Dida/ Dimma. 

I faintly remember travelling to Calcutta with him once. We had to keep a notebook and calculate distance with speed and time from one station to another. Another vivid memory was to list the speciality of the city we passed, e.g. it was Meerut ki kanchi, Hathras ka ghee, Aligarh ka tala, Kanpur ka leather chappal, Allahabad ke amrud (guava), Mughal Sarai ka khilona, Durgapur ke wooden khilona lattoo tea set in red, Burdwan ke mihidana. The tea in earthen kullhars became less milky and more flavourful as we travelled into West Bengal from Bihar.

Dada (Biswajit Badu) lived in Jorbagh after Daddy was posted to Jabalpur. He stayed on from 1963 to 66 in Jorbagh with our grandparents. He graduated school from St Columbus and joined DMET Kolkata after that. (Blogger Note: More about DMET days is in this post)

Jorbagh Dadu’s father was Rai Sahib Purna Chandra Rai and he was an Under Secretary in Delhi during British Raj. His wife was Manimala Dasi. I remember Ma telling me she had cancer of the cervix and the whole family had moved to Patna for her radiotherapy. They lived next door to Rajendra Prasad. Ma recalled the great earthquake of the 1930s then and how the stairs they were sitting on and eating peas, had its bottom disappear in front of their eyes while they were suspended in mid air! (Blogger Note: An 8.0 magnitude earthquake devastated Nepal and Bihar in 1934. You can read more about it 

here) 

(Chart credit: Madeleine)

👥 Famous neighbors from the past

Before settling down in Hauz Khas, Delhi; Monisha (Moon) Choudhury had quite a nomadic childhood. Here are some of her famous neighbors. 

By Monisha Choudhury: 

I remember Donald (George Albert) Duke, who was our neighbour living in 18 Polo Road Delhi Cantt, later to become famous as he and Pinaki Chatterjee both from the Navy rowed across the Bay of Bengal. They came to our school FAPS (Frank Anthony Public School) as Chief Guests, sometime in 1968-69.

Donald had a beautiful sister Jane and a younger brat of a brother shooting birds and anything moving with a catapult!

Added by Biswajit Basu:

George took early retirement from the Navy and branched into Maritime and undersea repairs etc. I met him many times in his office in Kurla as he was interested in getting into dredging. He told me his younger brother, migrated to UK long ago and breeds horses.

Blogger Note: In 1969, George Duke and Pinaki Chatterjee rowed from Calcutta (Kolkata) to Port Blair, across the choppy Bay of Bengal. They started on Feb 1 and reached their destination on Mar 2. More about the feat and pictures here

_{(From an article posted in 2019 in the aforementioned link)}

By Monisha Choudhury:

Another famous neighbour of 2/1 Brunton Cross Road in Bangalore, were the Manekshaw sisters. They were the daughters of Air Vice Marshal Jemi Manekshaw, brother of Field Marshal Sam Manekshaw. They were great fans of Pat Boone and Elvis Presley. We had booming music thanks to them....Oh Oh Oh Bernadine!

Added by Biswajit Basu:

Yes, I remember him well looking dapper on his Ducati (I think) motorbike next door in Bangalore. His daughters are Erna & Sherna. Sherna is my age and Erna is younger. They run Basil & Thyme in Sanskruti now. The Defence Ministry was trying to close down the complex. I think the matter is still in court. 

(Blogger note: It seems that the restaurant was relocated to Sunder Nagar a couple of years ago. As of 2021, it is currently closed)

The senior Manekshaws now live in Hauz Khas. I had the unfortunate experience of banging into Uncle Manekshaw's car in 1991. Gentleman that he is, he was very nice and did not even stop. This accident took place near where IIT flyover is (not sure if it was there in 1991).

Blogger Note: Air Vice Marshal Jemi Manekshaw served the Air Force, Medical services along with clocking up over 700 flying hours, including solo. He was awarded the Param Vishisht Seva Medal in 1961. His wife, Bhicoo Manekshaw, is also famous. She was India’s first cordon bleu trained chef and ran the India International Center (IIC) kitchen in the 60s-80s. In 1992, she joined her son-in-law’s restaurant Basil & Thyme.You can read some very interesting anecdotes from her culinary career here. She passed away in 2013.

By Monisha Choudhury: 

Brig (Dr.) Rasamay Ganguly, the famous surgeon and later Dean at AFMC, Pune, was our neighbor in London in the 50s and again in Delhi in the 60s. His elder daughter, Utpala (Polly) is my age. They used to live upstairs at 5 St Charles Sq, London in 1955-57.

We were, once again, neighbors in the 60s, at 22 Polo Road, Delhi. By then, the two younger children - Monomoy and Mala, had been born. I remember Monomoy as a young brat! His granddad, in his white dhoti and bare chest with poita and grey hair, was always running after him! Mala is now a Pathologist in USA.

Blogger Note: In the late 60s, the Basu family lived in 20 Polo Road, Delhi Cantonment. Even numbered houses were on the same side of the road. The Duke family lived in House No. 18 and the Ganguly family lived in House No. 22. They eventually settled down and built the house at R-3, Hauz Khas. 

Lots of famous guys lived in Hauz Khas, writers like Amrita Pritam, Chanchal Sarkar and old famous actors.

(Biswajit Basu) ......and arguably the most famous if them all: Kalpana Joshi (nee Dutta) of the Chittagong Armoury Raid!

Yes, she was a great pal of Daddy and Ma. Ishan, her grandson spent most of his first three years at our house. She gave her house for my wedding,  for Panna’s family to stay. I used to give neurobion injections to PC Joshi ex President of Communist Party. She was mostly in our house and was a great cook. She often gave us loitay shutki fish and puli paish, made with star and half moon shaped puli from Chittagong.

Blogger Note: You can read more about Kalpana Datta here

🚻Toilets, Vitamin C and ghost stories

When I asked my uncle to corroborate my research in this post, about ship toilets; this is how the conversation went. 

By Biswajit Basu:

It's 95% true. Sailing ships normally had their toilets (usually 2) in the foc'sle. If they had them on the bowsprit, it would be very, very dangerous as the amplitude of pitch is the most there and would be more of a roller coaster ride than stately poop. There usually would be 2 toilets in the foc'sle. This would have to cater to a 100 or so seamen. So you can imagine the rush every morning. So if you had to go or if you had diarrhea, you would simply jump on to a timber beam of the bow and let fly.  Everything would collect in the bilges in the bottom of the bow and the smell could easily make a rugged able bodied seaman faint.

However, there usually were a couple of more toilets.  And believe it or not they were actually in the poop.  They consisted of a small room projecting out of the hull near the stern. There were usually 2 of them.  One was attached to the captain's cabin and the other served the mates.  They consisted of only a hole on the floor.

Think for a moment of the food.  There was no cooking done as the wooden ship might catch fire.  So the crew ate only biscuits and dry meat with rum.  It is only the later sailing ships that had ovens on gimbals and this was used only in calm weather.  Scurvy was rampant till it was discovered that you could forestall it with vitamin C. Believe it or not, when I was sailing, we were still under the antique Merchant Shipping Act of 1858. Under this Act it was compulsory for everyone to drink lime juice. It was dutifully served at 11am and you could be whipped if you refused to drink it. The Act has been amended since.

(PS...some heavy drinkers would pour some vodka and have it during lunch!)

(Blogger note: The detour to the kitchen was brief, and back to the toilet we went)

Once Daddy and I were visiting Jorbagh Mama's house in Konnagar, near Kolkata.  I was ushered into a huge room with tubs of water.  But there was no toilet!  In the darkness, I saw a hole in the floor.  I went and looked down the hole and I was wondering whether I have to climb down.  Then I saw the pigs one floor below the hole and looking up in anticipation.

All doubts disappeared.

(Blogger note: I cannot believe this is true)

Every word is true.

In the earlier days, even in our army officer's houses, there were usually 3-4 potties with lids and enamel pots suspended from the seat.

These were known as "thunder-boxes".  You did your job, closed the lid and went out.  In our house at T1, Lorry Road in Delhi Cantt this was also the system.  Many of my friends who lived in old houses in Delhi and Bangalore had them.

From Monisha Choudhury:

In Ranikhet, where we went for one month summer vacation every summer, we lived in cottages of the army in the middle of the pine woods. Our toilet was a wooden poop chair with a removable tin pot in the middle with a wooden cover. Every morning the sweeper removed and cleaned them.

I hated them! Specially, I was scared of the dark and the howling hyenas at night. Often, we had forest fires due to the friction amongst the dry pine needle like leaves. There was only a single hotel resturant Moon hotel ....my namesake. I remember going for lunch and early dinner there as we got tired of the bland daily fare of the Army khansamas. I disliked to go for dinner as I did not like the dark and sounds of hyenas. The street lights were lit by firing the lamppost with a long rod every evening which seemed so far away from each other with dark patches in between  and scary shadows of trees and not a soul around! There were so many Ghost stories. One of the Captain who came on a horse in the church. This I experienced a few years ago on our trip to Lansdowne. But that’s another story.

👩‍⚕️ Med School Shenanigans: Dissecting Memories

By Monisha Choudhury:

After passing out of school in 1989, I did one year of pre-med in Deshbandhu College 1970-71. ISCE folks had to wait for 6 months to get into college in July those days with the Higher Secondary folks passing in March 1970. I was briefly in Miranda House doing Zoology Hons from Aug to Oct 1971, before joining the first batch of UCMS in 1971. I was also the first student of UCMS to become a teacher in UCMS!

This is a story about our Anatomy class in our temporary building at Chemistry block Delhi University behind the VCs office and sandwiched by St Stephen's on other side. VP Chest Institute was near Miranda House where we got our University Special bus back home to Haus Khas. 

The story, as far as I remember, goes like this. For our Anatomy class, we had only one full male body and another female cadaver with no organs, gifted by AIIMS. We were told to go ask our Principal to get us more bodies for dissection as many students were complaining to our Demonstrators. Everyone was dissatisfied at not being able to dissect and learn! 

So we trudged to our Principal, who was at VP Chest Institute. We stood outside while Dr AS Paintal, our Principal, stood at the top of the semicircular stairs... a small, fair, sprightly man... who was literally hopping mad! He told us to go to the then PM and ask her for bodies or shoot ourselves and lie down on the tables ourselves! Disillusioned, we returned back to Chemistry block after having some fruit chaat in front of Union Office on the way!

Dr Paintal had already reached there in his official White Ambassador and our sole doctor RP, Dr Suru Bindu got a dressing down for allowing us to leave class. He addressed us then saying we were like his children and to behave and be patient. His daughter Anita was in fact, one year our senior, studying in MAMC.

Blogger Note: They had quite a bone to pick with their Principal! But we are not done with the subject yet. As one story gets told, more memories arise. Let’s follow the Physiology link and dive back into the memory of a dark evening of a darker time. 

Another vivid memory......

It was in December when a rumour went around that the Pakistani aircraft had entered Indian airspace and flown near Tilpat range near Delhi.

That day, ‘B’ batch had their Physiology practicals first. We were in Red Fort waiting for our respective DTC buses and managed to reach our homes.

'A' batch had their practicals after lunch and reached Red Fort after 4pm. By then there was a blackout and all buses had been stopped from Red Fort. Our colleagues had to walk home and many had not reached home even by 11pm, to places like Lajpat Nagar. Frantic calls came to us from their parents and we had no clue either! That night we slept only after we got the news that all our batch mates had reached home safely, even in pitch darkness! Fancy such a situation for single girls in Delhi today. God was with all of us that day!

Blogger Note: The Indo-Pakistani War was fought between Dec 3-16, 1971. You can read more about it here)

🍾 From Russia with gum and other stories

By Biswajit Basu:

In Russia during the communist days, bartering was the only way to regal survival. It was only 4 Roubles for a bottle of sweet Abrau-Djurso Sampanskoye (champagne) while it cost more than 10 US$ in the Duty Free shop. I was only 21years old then and I stayed in a Russian champagne stupor for 3 months though I would not recommend it.

The Russians had kept the value of the Rouble at an absurdly high rate with respect to the US$ and all European currencies and so also the Indian Rupee. However, somethings were expensive in Russia like chewing gum, cigarettes, waterproofs etc. So instead of using money as the medium of exchange, we simply used x packets of Wrigley's for a hand driven torch generator. Or one plastic  raincoat for a Zenit camera and so on. 

As far as I remember, I had bought many cartons of these white ones. We did not indulge in these exchanges directly.  My steward or my Engine room Serang (Bosun) would report any nice offers being made by the Russian unloaders and then do the exchange next day.

Thus, if money is useless for exchange of goods, exchange will not stop. It will go on by barter! I had lots of stuff like that but they’ve all disappeared over the years. But I still have a prized Russian cap of mink bought with chewing gum! As far as the Russian cap is concerned I made Prithvi wear it this (2020) winter. It is grey like Tyson (husky pet dog) but much softer. Daddy often wore it too in winter.  Now I have a brown mink as well but bought only during my last trip in Siberia.  I always loved Russian Caps after seeing my German Dadu wear them.

Blogger note: Also called Ushanka hat, the cap raises more memories...

From Monisha Choudhury:

Daddy wore one too gifted by our Russian tenants downstairs. One of them used to teach me Russian on Ma’s insistence and the lady’s enthusiasm to teach me! Mr Nikolai from Minsk was our first tenant. He had never seen a ceiling fan before. One day he came to tell us it had fallen down. We were amazed with what we saw ... all the blades had bent down as if he had tried swinging from them!

⚛️ Med School Shenanigans: Dum Maro Dum

From Monisha Choudhury:

The year was 1973, when we shifted from the borrowed Chemistry block behind Vice Chancellor' s office of Delhi University to Safdarjung in our third year of MBBS. 

The place was the First floor lecture theatre at the new building of the Accidents and Emergency wing, borrowed by University College of Medical Sciences from Safdarjung Hospital, New Delhi.

The topic: Hallucinogens

We were covering the Chapter on Hallucinogens by our then temporarily borrowed Professor from Maulana Azad Medical College....later she was my collegue in Lady Hardinge Medical College.

Dr Mehta, had a bee in her bonnet. She decided to teach us with actual examples or samples. She declared she was distributing sealed counted packets of 'The' medicines like Amphetamines and Mandrax for all of us to see and learn.Two demonstrators Jaya Kohli and Jaya Mirchandani I think, were given the task of counting them and after passing them down, collecting them at the end of the class. 

After class, they were duly collected but on counting more than half did not come back. Initially, Dr Mehta calmly requested to return the remaining packets and sent the two to collect them. Very few came back. Now Dr Mehta was getting really angry. 

She requested us to pass and throw them quietly in the coir red mats at the back of the class. But none came. 

Then she declared that this will result in a police case. Asked both the Jayas to lock the doors and man them till all the packets were returned. Nothing happened. 

It was lunchtime by now. We were hungry and though we knew who the probables were, we sat silently for their sake. The guys started screeching “Police Police” mimicking Dr Mehta's voice. 

Then, in desperation, she told us to throw them out of the window and sent both Jayas down to ground floor to collect whatever possible. We all peered to see the poor dears hunt between the bushes. Nothing! 

Fancy the boys parting with the booty! Some in those days were already experimenting. But we were getting exasperated and hungry and with great difficulty the girls got out. The boys were later let out as well without returning their free 'booty'. Dum maro dum for them!

👨‍🎓Shoring up for a life at sea

From Biswajit Basu:

My story about joining Marine Engineering College (DMET) went like this.

I had appeared for 2 entrance exams and interview at St Stephen's. Since I had done my Marine College paper well, I felt confident and that was my first choice. The first result I got was the Indian School of Mines. At that time my Dadu was the DG (Geological Survey of India) and Daddy asked me to consult him.  Dadu was very clear in his advice and told me categorically not to join.  I was very happy as I preferred Marine College. But I waited and waited and there was no telegram. So I told Daddy and he said he was very happy that I join St Stephen's.  So I paid the fees and joined. 

To digress with a story of my ragging, I was at the bus stop coming home and a group of boys called me with the dreaded words: 'Come here fresher'. I knew I would be ragged but not how. The boys were very polite and decent much to my astonishment. They asked me all about school and family and suchlike inane things while I waited for the bombshell. Soon it came. Life is tough, they said and you will often be short of money (Now I expected them to take my busfare). But instead they said "You are short of 1 naya paisa (a coin of those times). Do you see that girl there? Tell her you are short of 1 np for your busfare and request her for it'. Dutifully I did and the girl laughed and turned me down, (she must have guessed what was going on). They did it 3 more times with 3 more girls but the next time, the girl gave me a 5 np coin with which I triumphantly returned. Only to be met with feigned anger. How could I fleece the girl of 4 extra paise? I was forced to return it. Then they let me off. 😊

Anyway, to continue, a few days later, I got the coveted telegram and went to Daddy.  He asked me to get the security deposit etc. back from St Stephen's but they kept putting me off. The last day for paying the Marine College fees was approaching and with great reluctance he agreed to pay. His words to me at that juncture was "You are my only son. Do not ever tell anyone that I agreed to your career at sea".

So I joined and came to know I was 5th on the merit list and sailed through the joining interview and medical.

Then, after I reached the hostel, started the second round of ragging and it was terrible because it was very physical. Running round the football field, sit ups, sitting on an imaginary chair and suchlike innovations and hair chopped to a crewcut. Jujuda could not help at all though it was mainly his batchmates who were ragging me. This continued for a whole year. I am thankful now for it because it prepared me for the very tough life at sea to come.

(Biswajit Basu entered DMET on August 3, 1966 and graduated in August 1970). This is a copy of a similar DMET letter from 1970:

More on Delhi University by Monisha Choudhury:

I never knew Dada joined Maths Hons in Stephens in 1966. Most of you will not know I did my Premedical in Deshbhandu College from 1970-71. Joined Zoology Hons in Miranda House from July to October 1971 and then to UCMS on 24th Oct 1971. I would have joined Dayal Singh but disliked it as I was ragged by the boys when I went to give my forms. All they asked me was a treat with some bottles of coke again costing fifty paise. They asked for five rupees ...and I deftly scooted without giving them a penny!

⛴ Scandinavian Sojourn

From Monisha Choudhury:

From my earliest sea voyages, I remember Gibralter and seeing people so close to us on land. I had the same experience in August 1993 when I took an overnight trip by Viking lines from Stockholm to Helsinki through 1000 archipelago.  The Finland blue cross flag was flying at the entrance of the gorge into Helsinki at almost an arm's length! Amazing it was.

(Pictures from Archipelago Sea, Wikipedia)

We arrived at the port in the morning after an overnight voyage. There were so many Conference Halls at the port! There were people in stalls selling their wares including freashly baked homemade Danish scones, fish, veggies etc. The city can be walked around in a day. I went to the post office and sent one postcard to Tina/Tuki/Baba and another to Nowgong (in-laws) as was my usual practice while travelling abroad alone. The high street there was full of famous dress designers. I returned by same ship. It was like a floating city with shops, pubs, pool etc.  I hardly slept in my shared bunker where the ladies were busy setting their hair in rollers for the night to look perfect on awakening!

(Picture from Viking Line)

⚓️ The First Voyage Back Home

Companion post to My First Sea Voyage

It was in the year 1957, that the Basu family travelled back home to India after two years in UK. The trip was seemingly not as memorable as their earlier voyage. Yet, it too offers some snippets of history. 

The return trip was from Liverpool to Bombay on the SS Circassia, Anchor Lines. 

In 1957, Monisha Choudhury was four years old. She vaguely remembers a washbasin in the cabin, perhaps like this B-deck stateroom?

“I remember the ship rolling and pitching and me puking in the wash basin in every room. Fish were slithering on the deck where chairs and tables were chained to the floor. We could see the water level above our round port windows.”

She also remembers it being extremely cold on the deck.

Biswajit Basu, age 9 years old at that time, recollects:

“The trip back on the Circassia was literally nothing to write home about.  The ship was more luxurious than the Batory... 

(Blogger note: And indeed the Circassia was a very luxurious ship!)

...but the voyage was so unexciting that I cannot even remember where and if we stopped to refuel. My guess is Cape Town but Indians would not be free to go ashore in view of their abominable policy of apartheid.  We once stopped at Port Elizabeth to drop a sick sailor in 1970 from the Jalavijaya. He was picked up by a launch.  It was a slanging match of vilest proportions for the period we took to drop the sailor.  The white S. African community were a nasty lot.  I wonder how they ever imagined that could survive in the new world.  It was the brilliance of Nelson Mandela from going the India way with Partition.  He had the charisma to hold the country together.”

(Picture credits to this website.)

🏡 The Home Imperative

 From Monisha Choudhury

(Companion post to Voyage of Misery)

It was in 1975. I was an Intern. All my classmates were preparing for USMLE to go to USA after giving their exams in Lahore, crossing Attari border by train or giving exams in Colombo. I remember you (Biswajit Basu) promised to pay Rs 4000/- for my USA flight, if I went. 

But with both parents admitted in Safdarjung Hospital, I stalled everything. I remember Daddy coming home in an Auto from his clinic in Sarojini Nagar and the auto hit a stationary cement mixer in the dark somewhere on ring road near Kidwai Nagar. I was in Pediatric emergency when my friends desperately located me to tell me Daddy was in Casualty with a blunt head injury. It was a nightmare after that. I called all the senior doctors in SJH. Fortunately he did not need intervention. Somehow after that he had a downhill course and suffered a life-threatening stroke in 1984.

L-R: Monisha Basu, Lt. Col. MK Basu, Anima Basu, Biswajit Basu