Life Back Then

Rajendra Shekhar studied at Mayo College, Ajmer and St. Stephen's College, Delhi. He joined the Indian Police Service in 1957, and rose to become Director, Central Bureau of Investigation, and Director-General Police, Rajasthan. He has written Not a Licence to Kill , Defining Moments', Memories Are Made Of This and पल-कल आज और कल . At present, he occupies himself with Posts on Facebook, and articles in Rashtradoot, a Rajasthan Hindi newspaper. He is also compiling material for his next bilingual book (in English and Hindi). He is happily settled at Jaipur along with his wife Mrs Sheila Shekhar.

I joined St Stephen's College, Delhi, in 1952. Then, it was still an all boys' institution.

After I graduated from St. Stephen's, I joined classes at Delhi University's Arts Faculty. This was co-educational. Miranda House, an all girls' college was almost abutting St. Stephen's College in the Delhi University Campus. Sheila, my future wife, was a Mirandian. After some convoluted wooing, we gelled together and began dreaming of a future in tandem.

Subhash Mathur is a resident of Jaipur after superannuation from Indian Revenue Service in 2007. Presently, Subhash is engaged in social and charitable work in rural areas. Subhash is also Editor of http://www.inourdays.org/, an online portal for preserving work related memories.

In 1969, I had the privilege of driving Morarji Desai, who later became India's Prime Minister, in our beloved family car: the Hillman. In a manner of speaking it was an iconic moment in my life. I have written a detailed account of driving Morarji Desai in the Hillman in My meetings with the Prime Minister when he was out of power

In the 1960s/70s owning a car was prestige itself. As most cars were owned by the rich and powerful they were usually driven by drivers, better own as chauffeurs. Most of the chauffeurs were liveried too, white or navy blue.

Those days employment meant lifetime service with that particular family. They usually became all-rounders and were often dubbed as Man Friday. There was lot of pride in being associated with rich or powerful families. These chauffeurs spent better part of the day and evening with the family. Other family members of Man Friday also got employment with the family as a gardener or a chowkidar or dog caretakers and so on.

Mira Kathuria Purohit had her early education in Presentation Convent, Delhi, MGD, Jaipur and Hindu College, Delhi. She is a Pediatrician, having pursued her medical studies in SMS Medical College, Jaipur. She served in Rajasthan Government devoting her working career to treating children and teaching budding doctors to treat kids. She retired as a Professor, and now leads a retired life in Jaipur.

It was early 1950. We were living in Daryaganj, Old Delhi. There was a knock at the door (there was no doorbell). I ran to see who it was. A saree clad elderly lady stood there. She was carrying a packet. I didn't recognize her, but folded my hands and said ‘Namaste', anyway.

‘I have come to meet Savitri. Is this the correct house?' she asked.

Savitri was my mother. I called her, and she introduced herself.

‘I am Mrs. Joseph 'she said. My daughter Usha lives in London. She is getting married to your brother Bhupendra Hooja.

This was my would-be aunt's mother, and she had brought sweets as shagan!

Bapu Satyanarayana, born 1932 in Bangalore, retired as Chief Engineer, Ministry of Surface Transport. At present, he is the presiding arbitrator of the Dispute Adjudication Board appointed by the National Highway Authority of India. He lives in Mysore, and enjoys writing for various newspapers and magazines on a variety of subjects, including political and civic issues.

My recollection goes back to the time when I was young, during the late 1930s and 1940s, covering the end of the reign of Nalwadi Krishnaraja Wodeyar, who was succeeded by Maharaja Jaya Chamarajendra Wodeyar. Mysore was the capital of the Wodeyar dynasty.

In those days Mysore was not as crowded as now. The whole city had beautiful boulevards, tree lined wide roads and sparkling water bodies. The Kukkarahalli tank was the star attraction. Here, during mornings, youngsters would crowd to learn swimming under guidance from the experts. Read an account of the life around the tank here. http://www.indiaofthepast.org/contribute-memories/read-contributions/life-back-then/53-life-around-kukkarhalli-tank-mysore-in-the-1940s-by-m-p-v-shenoi

Since the majority of the people belonged to the lower income middle class and middle income groups with limited financial resources, everybody walked. Anyhow, most of the places were nearby including the main Devaraja Market for purchase of flowers, fruits and vegetables and other home requirement.

Dr. Pramod Wanchoo, born 1938, studied in Happy School, Alwar and Royal High School, Edinburgh. He got his medical degrees from SMS Medical College, Jaipur. He retired as the Senior Professor and Head of Department Surgery, SMS Medical College, and then shifted to private practice in Jaipur. He retired in 2012, and shifted to Gurgaon to be near his children. Likes to spend time reading and writing, and is active on Facebook.

Dr M S Katre, Chief Medical Officer, Alwar State

Dr Madhav Sadashiv Katre, was Chief Medical Officer, Alwar State, in 1940, when my father joined as Medical Officer, in charge of Alexandra Hospital Alwar. Father had spent seven years as Captain, Indian Medical Service, in NWFP and Singapore. Father and Dr Katre did not get along particularly well. However, Dr Katre did not interfere with father in the running of Alexandra Hospital.

The reason was that Dr Katre and my father were often not together. In particular, Dr Katre went to the Vijay Mandir Palace every evening to meet and check-up on Alwar Maharaja Tej Singhji and his family, and spent a couple of hours there. Further, Dr Katre spent 2-3 months in Mount Abu in the summer with the Maharaja. Still, inevitably, Dr Katre rang up father at 9 pm, every day to enquire "Sab theek hai (Is all Ok)?" And the inevitable answer had to be "Sab theek hai (All is Ok)."

Dr. Pramod Wanchoo, born 1938, studied in Happy School, Alwar and Royal High School, Edinburgh. He got his medical degrees from SMS Medical College, Jaipur. He retired as the Senior Professor and Head of Department Surgery, SMS Medical College, and then shifted to private practice in Jaipur. He retired in 2012, and shifted to Gurgaon to be near his children. Likes to spend time reading and writing, and is active on Facebook..

I lived in Jaipur for 57 years from 1955-2012, when I shifted to Gurgaon, to be nearer my children. During that period I came in contact with a delightful person , Mr. G. L. Mehta of the IAS, first as his doctor, and later, when he started taking a paternal interest in me, as a friend. It helped that we were both Anglophiles. He once told me an interesting story.

He was posted in Udaipur in 1946, when Pandit Jawahar Lal Nehru came there, as Vice President in the Interim government, and Mr. Mehta was asked to accompany him. Mr. Nehru was smoking a cigarette in a contemplative mood in the Sahelion -ki-Bari, and Mr. Mehta went up to Mr. H V R Iyengar ICS, Nehru's Secretary, and asked him if could ask Pandit Nehru to autograph his book, The Discovery of India, which Nehru wrote in Ahmednagar Prison.  Mr. Iyengar said, "Young man, that is a risk , we all have to take. " Mr. Mehta went up to Jawaharlal Nehru and asked him to sign the book. Nehru came out of his contemplative mood, asked if he had read it. When Mr. Mehta nodded, Nehru signed it.

Subhash Mathur is a resident of Jaipur after superannuation from Indian Revenue Service in 2007. Presently, Subhash is engaged in social and charitable work in rural areas. Subhash is also Editor of http://www.inourdays.org/, an online portal for preserving work related memories.

After finishing high school, in July 1965 I joined Rajasthan Arts College, Jaipur for my BA degree.

College days were expected to be exciting.

Freedom from school discipline is something to cherish.

No uniform.

No fixed timings.

No overbearing Principal lurking around the corners.

No homework.

Its joy personified.

But it's never roses all the way.

Within a month of starting College, a notice on the Board informed the Freshers that it was compulsory for them to collect the NCC application form.

Fill up the form. Get a token.

Go across to the NCC office.

Collect your uniform.

Turn up for Familiarisation on 1^st Sunday of September at the Parade Ground, College campus. 7.30 a.m.

No exceptions.

Selecting one's uniform turned out to be an exercise involving scratching your head vigorously, tears rolling down the countenance and frustration welling up.

The uniform room was a huge rectangular room.  Khaki uniforms were strewn around the room.

Pants, Shirts, Socks, Shoes, Belts.

Many freshers were frantically searching through the pile.

For that perfect fit.

Chandra Sayal is a retired doctor, now living in Derby, England. She worked for over 30 years in the NHS in UK. She was a specialist in Community Medicine and Public Health.

This story was facilitated by Rakshat Hooja, great-grandson of Mata Hooja.

In 1944, my mother, Lajjawati (Mata Hooja), was in Jabbalpore. She was staying with my brother, who was seconded for the army duties during the war. Here, she got the terrible news that Karuna, her 23 year old daughter, had passed away suddenly at Lahore. At the untimely death of her daughter, she was shattered to pieces and could not pull herself together. Karuna was a bright girl, and an extrovert. She had a great future ahead. At such a young age, she had already gained MA, BT and MOL. She was soon to start a new job as a School Inspector in Dera Ghazi Khan District, her ancestral home and was looking forward to this post.

When the war ended, my brother came back to his Civil Service duties as a magistrate and was posted at Ferozepur, 60 miles away from Lahore. My mother was still grieving the loss of her daughter.

Just at that time, All Indian Women's Conference was being held at Lahore with Sucheta Kriplani as its President. My brother suggested that my mother should also attend as a way of her coming out of her grief. At the conference, she met young and intelligent women including Prem Bhatia and Perrin Barucha, the daughter of Col. Barucha, a famous surgeon of Lahore. These women took to my mother straightaway and made her an official delegate for the future conferences.

Subhash Mathur,who studied at St. Xavier’s School, Jaipur, is a resident of Jaipur after superannuation from Indian Revenue Service in 2007. Presently, Subhash is engaged in social and charitable work in rural areas. Subhash is also Editor of http://www.inourdays.org/, an online portal for preserving work related memories.

Many a school student has a to ‘Sir with Love' figure from the school faculty. Unlike the movie, such reverence dawns upon the student much later when he reflects upon his journey in life. For that, he takes off his tinted glasses and Eureka! His world view undergoes a huge paradigm shift.

In this sea change of altered prism, a devilish teacher begins to appear as benign and the one who shaped your Destiny. The hated one becomes the loved one. You suddenly begin to realise that the qualities of a hard task master and a perfectionist have become your cherished values also.

My world view changed somewhat along the ‘To Sir with Love' scenario when I came of age in my profession.

And this is the story of our toughie English Teacher Rev. Father D. Pinto S.J.

Rev. Father D. Pinto, S. J. St. Xavier's School, Jaipur. Mid-1960s.

Amit Shah is a retired publishing executive and owner of Green Comma, a service company for education and social-impact nonprofits. He divides his time between Somerville, MA, and Lovell, Maine, with his wife, Pam, and two cats. His adult sons live in Brooklyn, NY, and Baltimore, MD, respectively.

Amit Shah. In the interregnum between high school and college. Jan-Feb. 1967. Silchar, Assam.

In December 1966, when I was sixteen years old, I took the then final exams for high school graduation in Calcutta (now Kolkata). They were the contemporary equivalent of the 12^th grade examinations. Called Senior Cambridge O Levels, they were usually tests in seven to eight subject areas. There were three streams of students in those days-humanities, science, vocational/general. I was in the humanities group.

We had to wait for three months for the test booklets to be shipped to the UK and then graded. The results posted were in our respective school notice boards in mid- to late-March. After that, there was a scramble to apply for college admissions, with colleges beginning the academic year in mid-July.