I am K.RamChander Roll No 1.186/64 at IIT Madras.
It was July 1966 and time to go back to attend 3rd Year Classes after a long harrowing summer vacation.
In June my Dad decided suddenly to get the car ready, our old reliable automobile the Austin A40 that would not stop running once started and once stopped would never start as the damn battery would go flat overnight. and this meant either cranking it manually or getting people on the street to give it a push start.
The whole family packed into the Austin and off we went not to Bangalore but just to Chenglepet which was about 35 kilometres away. My Dad could not drive but he would put me in the drivers seat and drive me and I was only 18 with no licence and was petrified considering there were so many lives I had to protect.
Hit a level crossing and stupid me went straight upto the gate and pulled the hand brakes. The train went past and the gate opened and no one had taught me an uphill start. The car was rolling back and my Dad was screaming at me. Fortunately behind me was a lorry and the driver saw my predicament and got the cleaner to jump out and place a log under my back wheel to stop the car rolling back and off we went.
The family arrived unannounced at my sisters rental accommodation. she was just appointed to the Chinglepet Hospital as a Resident Doctor along with her good friend Mala Chanda. My sister was furious as she and Mala were renting just one room with another Doctor who was there with his wife. The man was polite and we all spent the night there, sleeping where even we could on what ever.
Early in the morning my Dad disappeared and no one hd a clue what he was upto. He was a terror and no one asked questions. By 11.00am he was back. He had rented a house. After lunch all visitors moved to the rented place on the first floor. The place was strange as on the open terrace was this sweet garden with a swing etc etc and some concrete sofas..To be honest it was a bit eerie. By sunset we had about three visitors. Unknown people we did not know but they seemed to know the lady who owned the place and was living on the ground floor. All of them said they had just dropped in to see how we were..and we thought it was kind of them. Mum cooked some food we all ate and by 9.00pm we were all asleep.
I had the ugliest nightmare that night. Never had dreamt anything like this before. I was awake and tossing and rolling. I heard my younger sisters hush hush voice asking if I was awake. I said yes. She said come over here, I am very scared and I did. She said I had a very bad dream. I said I had a very bad nightmare too. Both of us had dreamt that our father died. I calmed her down and told her to go to sleep. but I was shit scared.
Around 4.00am the lights came on and our father was awake and pacing up and down the corridor. I sat up and asked him, " Acha are you Ok ?" He said no. I am not able to pass Urine. within minutes every one was up. So I had to start the car which was kind to me go to my sisters place and pick all three doctors up and back. After examination it was decided to take him to the hospital straight. It was enlarged Prostate. So a Catheter was inserted to empty the bladder and a urine bag was attached and we were tole to go straight to General Hospital in Madras.
When I returned to the rented apartment, the three strange visitors from the previous night were there abusing the land lady for renting out her haunted house. They were yelling at her saying you know your daughters ghost wont allow any one to sleep there and you have harmed this innocent family who just wanted a holiday. Then they told us that another muslim doctor Dr Ghani had rented them place for himself his wife and sister. They too slept just one night and the sister took ill and died.
One of the ladies pulled me aside as I was the only son and male member and told me. Take very good care of your father as this bad spell can last just one month after which your dad will be OK.
By 9.00am eight of us including my doctor sister and her friend Mala were heading back to Madras. Got to Santhome and dropped my younger sisters off at home and drove straight to GH where he was admitted under the care of my sisters fav professors. Dad was at GH for a month and they would not operate as he had severe hypertension and not suitable for surgery. All I was doing was seeing my dad every day using Pallava Thallava buses both ways.
4th Of July 1966. Classes had started for the third year. My heart was not there as I wanted to be an electrical engineer but was forced to accept Civil Engineering my father who wanted me to build his dream home. Don't ask me why Director Prof Sengupta offered me admission at Durgapur University with full scholarship. My Dad was grumbling about me living in the hostel at Adayar hardly 20 kilometres from home, plus I had no clue where Durgapur was.
The reluctant Civil Engineer to be me dragged myself to class and I had he biggest shock. It was a very diminished class of just around 20 chaps and mostly from C Batch whom I did not know. Most of the chaps in the D Batch decided to switch to Aero which was being offered for the first time. I had just three close friends Ramanujam, Ramamoorthy and Ranjan Kelly. Nearly half the class was made up of seniors who had failed in the third year and made to repeat the year. I was most depressed feeling out of place doing a course I did not want to and my dad was seriously ill and in Hospital. It was a living nightmare.
I jumped on my bile on Saturday the ninth morning skipping my classes to go see how Dad was. and he tells me the doctor is talking about discharging me soon. It had to be Monday or Tuesday he said. I bunked class on Monday and on Tuesday morning when I reached the hospital My dad said I will be discharged this after noon. so quickly go to the bank cash this cheque and make sure everything is ready for me at home. I looked at the Check and was puzzled he had Written Ramachandra and not RamChander. When I questioned he said I dont know why I wrote that but it is Gods Name anyway., Had me worried. Got off at Kapali Temple and went to the Indian Bank and walked home only to be told my father had passed away when I was on a bus home....There were no Mobile Phones then.
I questioned my dad wen he told me I needed to carry him upstairs and that is exactly what happened. Four or five men had to carry him up the windy staircase.
Once up there we all remember what the lady had told us that if he survives 30 days. Damn there was one more day to go and the Chenglepet Ghost got him eventually
With my Dad gone my mother whispered to me a few days after he funeral that I should forget about IIT as there is no way we could afford the huge hostel mess bills and that I should start looking for a job.. I did not go back to classes for a couple of months and one after noon my neighbour comes running and says there is a phone call from The Registrar of IIT Madras Mr.Sethuraman and he wants you to call him back immediately on this number. I rushed over to my neighbours phone and dialled the number. I remember there was this cold callous voice that told me, every ones father dies sometime. You have missed 30% attendance and if You do not come back and attend classes from Monday I will not let you sit for the final exam for lack of attendance. The whole family was waiting to hear what the call was about so I had to tell every one and then the family took a democratic decision that I should go back and rejoin college.
I had missed not just 30% of the classes I had also missed one test in every subject which meant all m marks in all remaining tests would be counted.
This whole year was a slippery dip, losing my dad, missing 30% classes, being a misfit in the class, ending up as a back bencher with seniors who had failed. Basically I did not belong and I failed in one subject by one mark which again is not true. One of the Profs made sure I failed. That is another story. and when I found out I had failed, I was too ashamed to tell my mother as it would hurt her most, to see her son the ducks of the class at school year after year failing and having to repeat the year.
I had to end my life and had to choose the best and easiest way to die. I remember a Hadley Chase Novel I had read, where the main character decides to end his life. His did this by jumping into the sea and swimming away from the shore and kept swimming on and on until he had no energy to swim any more and was impossible to reach shore to survive. Yes I walked to the Madras beach opposite all Indian Radio Office at night walked upto the water and got my feet wet. I stood there and decided I should swim with my clothes and shoes on as that would tire me out faster.
As I stood there contemplating death by suicide, I remembered my Mother and my sisters especially the three young ones and said tio myself I was being a selfish bastard ending my life as oppised to living in and being there for my family.
I walked back home and gained full control of my life.
Today in 2019, 49 years later and on hindsight I am convinced failing in the third year was the best thing that happened to me in my life. Failures are often stepping stones to success.
The 1970 Civil Engg Batch mates were all very special people.
It was a new beginning and the very same sublect I failed was taught by Mr Gopala Krishnan who asked me after the mid term exams, Ramchander you have scored an S Average so far; I cannot understand how you failed this subject last year. I smiled and told him Sir yu did not teach last year. We had a German who did not know the subject nor could he speak english and I missed 30% of the classes..
It was July 1966 and time to go back to attend 3rd Year Classes after a long harrowing summer vacation.
In June my Dad decided suddenly to get the car ready, our old reliable automobile the Austin A40 that would not stop running once started and once stopped would never start as the damn battery would go flat overnight. and this meant either cranking it manually or getting people on the street to give it a push start.
The whole family packed into the Austin and off we went not to Bangalore but just to Chenglepet which was about 35 kilometres away. My Dad could not drive but he would put me in the drivers seat and drive me and I was only 18 with no licence and was petrified considering there were so many lives I had to protect.
Hit a level crossing and stupid me went straight upto the gate and pulled the hand brakes. The train went past and the gate opened and no one had taught me an uphill start. The car was rolling back and my Dad was screaming at me. Fortunately behind me was a lorry and the driver saw my predicament and got the cleaner to jump out and place a log under my back wheel to stop the car rolling back and off we went.
The family arrived unannounced at my sisters rental accommodation. she was just appointed to the Chinglepet Hospital as a Resident Doctor along with her good friend Mala Chanda. My sister was furious as she and Mala were renting just one room with another Doctor who was there with his wife. The man was polite and we all spent the night there, sleeping where even we could on what ever.
Early in the morning my Dad disappeared and no one hd a clue what he was upto. He was a terror and no one asked questions. By 11.00am he was back. He had rented a house. After lunch all visitors moved to the rented place on the first floor. The place was strange as on the open terrace was this sweet garden with a swing etc etc and some concrete sofas..To be honest it was a bit eerie. By sunset we had about three visitors. Unknown people we did not know but they seemed to know the lady who owned the place and was living on the ground floor. All of them said they had just dropped in to see how we were..and we thought it was kind of them. Mum cooked some food we all ate and by 9.00pm we were all asleep.
I had the ugliest nightmare that night. Never had dreamt anything like this before. I was awake and tossing and rolling. I heard my younger sisters hush hush voice asking if I was awake. I said yes. She said come over here, I am very scared and I did. She said I had a very bad dream. I said I had a very bad nightmare too. Both of us had dreamt that our father died. I calmed her down and told her to go to sleep. but I was shit scared.
Around 4.00am the lights came on and our father was awake and pacing up and down the corridor. I sat up and asked him, " Acha are you Ok ?" He said no. I am not able to pass Urine. within minutes every one was up. So I had to start the car which was kind to me go to my sisters place and pick all three doctors up and back. After examination it was decided to take him to the hospital straight. It was enlarged Prostate. So a Catheter was inserted to empty the bladder and a urine bag was attached and we were tole to go straight to General Hospital in Madras.
When I returned to the rented apartment, the three strange visitors from the previous night were there abusing the land lady for renting out her haunted house. They were yelling at her saying you know your daughters ghost wont allow any one to sleep there and you have harmed this innocent family who just wanted a holiday. Then they told us that another muslim doctor Dr Ghani had rented them place for himself his wife and sister. They too slept just one night and the sister took ill and died.
One of the ladies pulled me aside as I was the only son and male member and told me. Take very good care of your father as this bad spell can last just one month after which your dad will be OK.
By 9.00am eight of us including my doctor sister and her friend Mala were heading back to Madras. Got to Santhome and dropped my younger sisters off at home and drove straight to GH where he was admitted under the care of my sisters fav professors. Dad was at GH for a month and they would not operate as he had severe hypertension and not suitable for surgery. All I was doing was seeing my dad every day using Pallava Thallava buses both ways.
4th Of July 1966. Classes had started for the third year. My heart was not there as I wanted to be an electrical engineer but was forced to accept Civil Engineering my father who wanted me to build his dream home. Don't ask me why Director Prof Sengupta offered me admission at Durgapur University with full scholarship. My Dad was grumbling about me living in the hostel at Adayar hardly 20 kilometres from home, plus I had no clue where Durgapur was.
The reluctant Civil Engineer to be me dragged myself to class and I had he biggest shock. It was a very diminished class of just around 20 chaps and mostly from C Batch whom I did not know. Most of the chaps in the D Batch decided to switch to Aero which was being offered for the first time. I had just three close friends Ramanujam, Ramamoorthy and Ranjan Kelly. Nearly half the class was made up of seniors who had failed in the third year and made to repeat the year. I was most depressed feeling out of place doing a course I did not want to and my dad was seriously ill and in Hospital. It was a living nightmare.
I jumped on my bile on Saturday the ninth morning skipping my classes to go see how Dad was. and he tells me the doctor is talking about discharging me soon. It had to be Monday or Tuesday he said. I bunked class on Monday and on Tuesday morning when I reached the hospital My dad said I will be discharged this after noon. so quickly go to the bank cash this cheque and make sure everything is ready for me at home. I looked at the Check and was puzzled he had Written Ramachandra and not RamChander. When I questioned he said I dont know why I wrote that but it is Gods Name anyway., Had me worried. Got off at Kapali Temple and went to the Indian Bank and walked home only to be told my father had passed away when I was on a bus home....There were no Mobile Phones then.
I questioned my dad wen he told me I needed to carry him upstairs and that is exactly what happened. Four or five men had to carry him up the windy staircase.
Once up there we all remember what the lady had told us that if he survives 30 days. Damn there was one more day to go and the Chenglepet Ghost got him eventually
With my Dad gone my mother whispered to me a few days after he funeral that I should forget about IIT as there is no way we could afford the huge hostel mess bills and that I should start looking for a job.. I did not go back to classes for a couple of months and one after noon my neighbour comes running and says there is a phone call from The Registrar of IIT Madras Mr.Sethuraman and he wants you to call him back immediately on this number. I rushed over to my neighbours phone and dialled the number. I remember there was this cold callous voice that told me, every ones father dies sometime. You have missed 30% attendance and if You do not come back and attend classes from Monday I will not let you sit for the final exam for lack of attendance. The whole family was waiting to hear what the call was about so I had to tell every one and then the family took a democratic decision that I should go back and rejoin college.
I had missed not just 30% of the classes I had also missed one test in every subject which meant all m marks in all remaining tests would be counted.
This whole year was a slippery dip, losing my dad, missing 30% classes, being a misfit in the class, ending up as a back bencher with seniors who had failed. Basically I did not belong and I failed in one subject by one mark which again is not true. One of the Profs made sure I failed. That is another story. and when I found out I had failed, I was too ashamed to tell my mother as it would hurt her most, to see her son the ducks of the class at school year after year failing and having to repeat the year.
I had to end my life and had to choose the best and easiest way to die. I remember a Hadley Chase Novel I had read, where the main character decides to end his life. His did this by jumping into the sea and swimming away from the shore and kept swimming on and on until he had no energy to swim any more and was impossible to reach shore to survive. Yes I walked to the Madras beach opposite all Indian Radio Office at night walked upto the water and got my feet wet. I stood there and decided I should swim with my clothes and shoes on as that would tire me out faster.
As I stood there contemplating death by suicide, I remembered my Mother and my sisters especially the three young ones and said tio myself I was being a selfish bastard ending my life as oppised to living in and being there for my family.
I walked back home and gained full control of my life.
Today in 2019, 49 years later and on hindsight I am convinced failing in the third year was the best thing that happened to me in my life. Failures are often stepping stones to success.
The 1970 Civil Engg Batch mates were all very special people.
It was a new beginning and the very same sublect I failed was taught by Mr Gopala Krishnan who asked me after the mid term exams, Ramchander you have scored an S Average so far; I cannot understand how you failed this subject last year. I smiled and told him Sir yu did not teach last year. We had a German who did not know the subject nor could he speak english and I missed 30% of the classes..
