MAA Tujhe Salaam !

MAA Utsav of Mysore Medical College Alumni Association tomorrow: Reminiscences

By Dr. Veena Bharathi

In May 1981, when I attended my very first Para-Clinical subjects’ theory class at MMC (Mysore Medical College), I was feeling a bit left out, reason being that I had just then been granted a transfer to MMC, after my one-and-a-half-year of Pre-Clinical study and three months of surgical postings from JJMMC, Davanagere, where I had secured a medical seat under Government quota.

And lo ! the strange feeling of loneliness disappeared within the next two days, since I could make friends with a couple of students.

Pharmacology was made very interesting by Prof. K.G. Subrahmanya Bhat (who was also heading the Department), for he used to have a mesmerising grip on the Under-Graduate student audience through his unique way of delivering the lecture with substance. However, my new friend Usha and myself used to relax during Dr. Xavier Ignatius’ Pharmacology classes ! Dr. Xavier was in the habit of repeating the phrase ‘as such’ several times during lecturing and by the end of the 45 minutes’ session, I would count and tell Usha “Today, Dr. Xavier uttered ‘as such’ 23 times!” Usha would disagree and by looking at the number of times the “as such” that she would have written, she would whisper “It is exactly 26 times!”

Prof. Bhat was also the Warden of the Gents’ Hostel of MMC during 1981-82. He happened to be the chief guest at “The Gents’ Hostel Day Celebrations” that year. I had played on my mandolin the then popular Hindi song “Yamma yamma…Yeh khubsoorat samaa…”  The student gentlemen(!) at the hostel had merrily danced to the tune and had started screaming “once more, once more!” I had become a bit nervous since I had started wondering “How could I play again without Prof. Bhat’s permission?” Surprisingly, Prof. Bhat had reassuringly told me “Nudisamma, nudisu! Veeneyalladiddarenu, mandolinnne nudisu!” [Lady, go on playing, if not the Veena, the Mandolin itself !]

In our orchestra group, Dr. Shekar Anke Gowda (M.A. Shekar) and Dr. Ganesh Pai used to accompany me as lead guitarists. What is still memorable is, Dr. Shekar would silently practice with me and with the singers of the orchestra group only till the ‘samosas’ and coffee arrived from the canteen ! Our OBG Professor Dr. Rajamma, who used to supervise the practice sessions, would tell us to have the snacks and then continue practicing. Shekar would eat two ‘samosas’ and without drinking the coffee, would most often rush out of the practice session, telling us “Nammamma kaitaa irtaare…!” (My mother will be waiting for me!). Only later on we got to realise that Shekar always used to wait for the delicious ‘samosas’ and the snack was an incentive for him to join the orchestra group !

Says Dr. Shekar (who is the great-grandson of Piteelu Chowdiah and now the Director of the Diabetology Institute, Bengaluru):

“When I joined MMC in 1976 as a Pre-Clinical student, on the very first day, most of my batch-mates had either fainted or developed nausea with tears in the eyes, due to the odour of the strong formalin which was used to preserve the cadavers (dead bodies kept for dissection) in the Department of Anatomy. Since I had heard both the Pre-Clinical and Clinical stories from my father Dr. Anke Gowda (who was a Paediatrician and Superintendent of Cheluvamba Hospital), I was bold enough to sit through the Anatomy dissection on the very first day at MMC!”

I fondly remember the scooter stand within the premises of K.R. Hospital, where I used to park my ‘Luna’ (and then the TVS moped). The MMC Magazine of 1982 cheekily had given a caption for my photo “Luna rati!” (instead of Veena Bharathi !). I also remember the dried-up pond behind the college canteen, beside which Usha and myself would sit for hours together doing combined study, especially in subjects like Community Medicine and Pathology.

And then, how could I forget the way my batch-mate Dr. Sridhar and myself collected anti-tubercular medicines for one Tibetan patient Dorjee and how we all had cried and not eaten food for an entire day, since Dorjee had unfortunately passed away in the Surgical Unit ‘C’ the day we were to hand him over the medicines.

All of us in our Surgical ‘C’ Unit had great admiration for Professor and Surgeon Dr. B.R. Shetty, for Dr. Shetty had a timely sense of humour and his expertise in surgery always fascinated us, the young interns !

As a medical intern, I had started penning down “My experiences as a House Surgeon” for Mysore Monitor, the then Weekly, sister publication of Star of Mysore. Dr. Shindhe, the then Medical Superintendent of K.R. Hospital, had asked me “What would I do in case I was denied my Internship Certificate?”  (as I had exposed the scenario of discrepancy meted out to  poor patients by the K.R. Hospital Blood Bank through my weekly column in Mysore Monitor). I had confidently replied, “Sir, I do believe that pen is any day mightier than the scalpel !” (I did get my Internship Certificate and have happily sailed through two professions — Health Management Consultant and  Journalist/ Author).

In a way, our student days at MMC has been a leveller, the experiences have played the role of a ball bearing as most of us have become ‘somebodies’ in our respective lives. The knowledge that we have imbibed (in the absence of apps, pen drives, virtual class rooms, etc.) through real teachers, real case histories… Hence, it was an ‘everyday reality show’!

The process of learning about the maladies of life and the problem solving mechanism have all irradiated us, the Alumni of MAA. ‘MAA’ is the Anabranch where we keep meeting each other, every year in the second weekend of December, almost like freshers but with pleasant nostalgia!

MAA — Tujhe Salaam!

About the author

Dr. Veena Bharathi, a medical graduate from MMC&RI, holds a Post-Graduate Degree in Health Management and has been a research associate working under IIM Professors.

Dr. Veena Bharathi is the first writer who profiled Neerja Bhanot (the chief-flight purser of the hijacked PAN-AM-Flight, who gave up her own precious life to save many passengers of the flight at Karachi, in September 1986).

She received ‘The National Magnum Award’ for the same write-up. —Ed