It all started with the RCP asking me
for a copy of my original degree certificate for applying for GMC
registration.This was for a year of stint as a sabbatical in the United
Kingdoms.They had asked for a certificate of goodstanding from my medical
college with a current date which did not in the least make any sense because
the last time I had had any contact with my medical college was twelve years
back and I could not figure out the logic of it all but since the requirements
are there in paper ,you do not question it, you make a wild dash across the country and the memory lane ,that
is if you have any memory of the place at all.
I started my journey from Dehradun
taking the early evening bus much against my sister’s advice and reached
Anant Vihar bus stand in the early hours
of the morning half awake.Wanted a taxi home but got pushed into an auto
rickshaw which was all fine but for a sudden urge in the middle of the journey
to sing psalm 21….there I went ‘The Lord’s my shepherd…..’.No I was not scared
or anything,I just had this urge to sing and I did it much to the surprise of
the auto rickshaw driver.By the time I reached my sister’s place in Dwarka,I
was all but asleep.I dashed into the bed barely managing to take my sneaker’s
off.
Next morning two changes of morning
tea still had me deep in the sluberland.By the time the third cup came and I
had sort of woken up to the world,I realised that my purse was missing with all
the cash I had in hand and the debit cards,pan card ,etc.
My sister and brother-in law were at
it cancelling my account .My sister gave me the money I required and everyone
including the travel agent gave me a sound advice about getting into the right
train,etc…and he had no clue about the morning ‘s incident.
The ride in the Rajdhani was
relaxing.I prayed a short prayer asking the lord to give me an interesting
company for the journey and he placed a sweet couple in their eighties.Their
exploits kept me entertained.
Hitting Kolkotta,I headed straight
for the university.Reached the enquiry where
the person asked me to go to a
counter three shops away in the street where a collosal metal gate with an
equally formidable lock greeted me.With a deep fear of anything beaurocratic in
India with it’s corruption and equal dislike of work in any form, deeply etched
in my sub-concious I fluttered around like a head-less chicken.
Half an hour later there was some activity.The clerk had some problem
trying to figure out what form he could give me.
They needed my marksheets which I was
not sure was in my bag,and they also needed the Kolkotta university registration number which again
did not make sense because I had opted for the medical council of India registration
and I did not have the local registration.The signature from the principal of
my college took the cake,I had to travel twelve hours to reach my college.
I needed the degree now and they
added that if I paid the emergency fee I would get it as early as one
month.This again did not make sense st all.I decided to go to the diploma
section and request.An irritable clerk ,declared that he could not produce the
certificate before two to three months and the local registration was a
must…that meant going through another set of beaurocracy and God only knows
where I was heading for.
I went to meet the controller of
examination who handed my case over to someone who had been allocated the
work.The gentleman was kind.He asked me to get the signature and the
recommendation from my principal and he would see what they could do.As I was
leaving,the clerk called out over his shoulder that I should find out from my
medical college if the degree had reached there.
Just to clear the doubt as to why I
had taken so long to come looking for this precious bit of paper.As soon as my
internship was over,I got into my post –graduate course.The degree was not out
then so I made do with the provisional which stated clearly that I had applied
for the degree ,was eligible and would get it in the due course.I went headlong
into my post graduate studies without looking back and never really had the
need for the piece of paper because I had one for my post-grad which I received
during my convocation.It was also the pre-conceived fear of the clerks sipping
tea who had this bad habit of asking for tea money which kept me post-poning
the entire gambut.It was the RCP which had got me going.
I took the train to Bankura,watching
,observing humanity as one can only in India.The slums of Kolkotta disgusts one
and even as I watched out from my window ,I suddenly remembered my sister
screwing up her nose in one of the government hospitals in Delhi and asking
‘Why can’t they keep themselves clean?’That was the thought in my mind.The
sludge,the pigs,the shanty holes ,unwashed babies running around barefeet….this
was nothing to write home about ,it spoke of
human dignity at it’s lowest level.There really was no excuse for the
filth,poverty one can empathise with but filth is something else altogether..As
I looked out ,to my horror I saw a young chap hastily get behind a half broken
tin roof lying against the wall ,to
clear his bowels.The rawness of the whole incident left me shaken….That
was his loo.
My co-passengers were the typical
Bengali bhadralok ,Bengal is famous for.One hour into the journey and they had
taken the official position of my guardian,bargaining with the tea vendor,
making sure that the coconut water fellow gave me the sauce of the coconut
after the juice was over.
On the way I saw stretches of marigold
plantations which was something new from my earlier expeditions.
I reached Bankura at around eight
o’clock in the night and I checked into the only one of the two decent hotels
in the place belonging to a family we used to vaguely know as medical students.
The place was nowhere in my
memory,nothing looked familiar.
The next morning while riding the
rickshaw to the college the zigsaw started fitting in and I even guided the
rickshawala through the short way to the administrative section.
My time in my college was a
breeze.Everyone seemed so cordial and willing to help.
The clerk in the student’s section
had been expecting me.He handed me the character certificate which I had
requested for through a mail I had dropped earlier and much to my delight
the lady took out an old register and
started searching for my name.Three or four huge envelopes lay inside the
register and one of them contained my precious degree certificate.All I had to
do was sign the register and the certificate was in my hand.The relief I felt
was so immense that I was almost emotional.I thanked them profusely and with a
deep gratitude in my heart to the Lord who had been so good to me I booked a
flight to Delhi for the next day and boarded the late night train to Kolkotta.
I reached Kolkotta in the wee hour of
the morning ,hovered around the station till I found some steps where there was
a cross-ventilation.I sat down there and finished reading a book,enjoying the
breeze,feeling happy, in two hours straight before I took a taxi to the airport
knowing that I was still too early.
Here I am in the airport now….found a
plug point for charging my lap-top sitting on the floor writing this up……
I am yet to figure out why I had to
make that journey to the forgotten recesses of my life to experience that
amazing grace….!
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