PLAB - III

So, the preparations had begun for the exams and we were slowly getting the hang of it.  Lots of studies and group discussions were done at both the Hostel and at our house, 22 Coral Merchant Street, Mannadi, and Chennai 600001.  Most of the time we were trying to remain focussed.  Albeit for few evenings, we were not tempted to close early, our books and waft into down town watching few movies, which was our chore until then!

Occasional alcoholic frenzy was not missed either.  Deepavali of 1993 came and with that few movies too.  “Kizhakku Seemaiyile” with Raman’s music was everywhere and needless to say I was still longing for IR.

Ilayaraja had become a Maestro by this time.  He became the first Asian to compose a Symphony that was recorded at the Royal Philharmonic symphony orchestra.  “Valli” from Rajinikanth came after his symphony and the music was superb, though the movie was a dud.  “Ennulle ennulle” was literally snow balling every one with its wonderful tune and orchestration.  My faith in IR never waivered during this time and has not yet and I am glad that I live in an era, where IR is living!

Deepavali of 1993 became an emotional roller coaster for me, as it was the last one I could ever celebrate in India for some time.  The “Thanni” kutcheri or concert prior to deepavali was once again staged in Stanley Mens Hostel, with mine and my brother’s mates.  Sheer bliss, fun, and frolic followed the evening.

Lots of water flown under the bridge before the Gaaana songs was belted out in full throttle by the attendees.  Party, as usual continued late into the night and needless to say were the wonderful moments, etched on my memory prior to our departure in March 1994.  Well, I haven’t been to India to celebrate Deepavali since then and its 18 years.  Amma had cooked an elaborate Deepavali dinner for the chaps on Deepavali day and nearly 20 of us were there and most of us were still hung over!!  Appa was as watchful, as he was normally with very little musings.  I think, I must have partied very hard and therefore picked up a lower respiratory tract infection, which lasted and ruined nearly the whole of December 1993 and my PLAB preparations.

And, it was the New Year day of 1994, when I ventured out for a fresh air and needless to say I was well behind the schedule.  The group studies started once again in January and continued over the next two months.  We also had few mock sessions with our seniors, who had come back to help us out in the preparation and we were looked upon as Gods and God sent!! 

Appa had by this time sorted out the sponsorship letter for me from UK, from a famous gentleman called Mr Shankara Murthy, who was in charge of BBC Tamilosai.  Appa had also directed us to meet a Travel agent in Mount road near Quadei Millet College, where we were explained about the different means of travelling to London and the flights and classes.

Meanwhile, we arrived at the British Deputy High Commission, Chennai, on an auspicious day for our visas, with all the relevant papers and managed to procure the VISAS to visit London, by the same evening.  Our excitement meter was literally spiralling out of control and was becoming very difficult to keep an eye on the measurements.

My name was entered as Surendravarman Doraiswamy in the application form, by myself (!) and I was called as Dr Doraiswamy.  I had not realised, Doraiswamy, was my surname until then.  Our Indian Passports in 90’s never bothered to enter our names appropriately and so I became Dr Doraiswamy at the embassy, and later at the GMC too.  And having said that, now, I have changed my name as Dr Surendra Doraiswamy Varman to confuse every one, including myself at times.  I am Dr Varman once again after few years and I am sure that was the predicament with most of us hailing from Tamil Nadu and possibly Southern India, where we never seemed to have a proper surname!!

The hall tickets, Sponsorship letter, the VISAS, all have arrived and was the turn of the best possible way to travel albeit also the least expensive method of travelling to London.“  Aeroflot” the Russian airliner came to our rescue, however we had to fly from Delhi and not Chennai.  We managed to squeeze the ticket for Rs 25,000 each for a return journey from Delhi and therefore, planned to reach Delhi from Chennai or then Madras on Train.  

Tamil Nadu express was our saviour and had booked first class non AC tickets to transport ourselves to Delhi, which would be two nights journey!  Hari had come up with a plan to hole up in the MP’s quarters in New Delhi for the day at one of his Baava’s friend, before we could embark on the flight.  I am yet unclear about my parent’s role here and I haven’t asked Amma till this date, how she had managed to get those big amounts I was billing them.  I didn't want to upset myself and that very well could be the motive.

It was all getting bit surreal for me during this time and I was getting panic spells and anxious episodes too.  The episodes got only worse after the unexpected demise of our classmate “Santha Ram,” a fun loving batch mate of ours who possibly might have had a Sudden Cardiac Arrest and succumbed, during the month of January 1994.  This event had upset all of us and possibly a bit more of Ganesh, as he was a loyal room mate of Santha Ram, during our college days.

Well, I then realised that life was not going to be the same for all of us ever again!!!

- To be continued