Orthopedic Ward

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1976 January 25

Around noon I got a telegram from my HM Father saying in as few words as an English Teacher could squeeze:

"Come immediately to Madras for ankle surgery"

Good that I knew he was the one going under the ether, with history of a recalcitrant oozy right ankle traced deep into the joint,...otherwise as far as the 'wire' went it could be me.

Went to our HoD, HNB with the wire and got leave for 2 weeks, which got extended to six chaotic weeks, week by week...HNB was my God-Father...if it were XXX, I would have been sacked (I didn't admire his Exact Quantum Electrodynamics of Media).

Reaching Madras on the third morning after a hectic journey I was at once ushered into the Stanley Govt Hospital where the reputed orthopedic surgeon Dr TKS was to perform the surgery next day and I would be the lone body guard...my MD sister and her IAS husband were a working couple with tremendous influence in the city by remote control...they were the Prime Movers for this venture turned adventure.

The surgery went off well enough, and after a day in the sterilized Post-Operative Ward (where cats and dogs were officially denied entry with Notices), we were shifted to the General Orthopedic Ward # 5.

The idea behind admission into the General instead of the Special Ward was sound on all counts...it was 'free', including food and medicine, but more importantly there was always a nurse or two, a house surgeon, sundry ward boys, all 24/7.

Father was allotted Bed # 4 which became famous in a couple of days.

The supreme virtue of an orthopedic ward is that there are no emergencies here...no painful groans either (that was before surgery)...and most patients are like IIT KGP students who used to get admitted to the B C Roy Hospital a day before the End-Sem Exams so that they could take the written test in cool privacy...

Well, all the 28 patients were bound leg or foot and immobilized for six to ten weeks...some with a leg up at angle of 45 degrees stretched with a pulley-weight traction mechanism.

See this video without fail...right away:

http://www.220.ro/funny/LAUREL-HARDY/HvNk0em6do/


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All were able-bodied men in the prime of their youth (extending from 20 to 60).

Since there is no pain but plenty of food and leisure, how does one go about spending six weeks in bed till the plaster is removed?

By chatting up one another, singing comic songs, making spiritual love to the nurses who reciprocated famously, teasing ward boys who didn't 'supply' the bed pan if they were annoyed by niggardly tips, smoking anything from beedies to Havanas, sipping spirits occasionally and getting 'punishment' if caught by the House Surgeon...and the works.

The camaraderie and bonhomie were unbelievable.

Father being a strict HM took offense in the beginning, but after getting bored reading the couple of Tennysons he brought with him, became more tolerant and then appreciative and then participative...

After the first week, there was this case of Bed # 18 whose plaster was removed and was asked to get lost in 48 hours during which he was to 'practice' walking which he quite forgot.

He was such a dear soul that the Farewell Party was reminiscent of Phy Dept Farewells to Faculty Members who were the life and soul of the Dept for decades.

Now for why Bed # 4 (Father...no one revealed their given names) became famous:

He would sleep soundly most of the day...and, at night, he would be subject to insomnia and nightmares resulting in frequent shouts of "Thief...Thief..Thief!!!" which was innocuous compared to the less infrequent "Fire, fire, Fire!!!"

There was quite a bit of thoroughly embarrassing commotion during the first week, but then on, everyone would 'miss' Bed # 4's shouts if the Night Sister slyly administered Father a strong soporific tablet so that her sleep was not unduly disturbed...


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Sur(charged)names

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"And then there shall be in the land some who welcome him with love, who lay their hands on his head, and say: Sit down with us to meat, live with us in our house, and share all that we have, for I have known your father"

..........................Multatuli @ Pratik

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If having known just your father bestows so much goodwill, one can only guess what if it were your grandfather or great-grandfather!

Therein lies the secret power of family names or surnames which Bengalis and Andhras keep religiously.

In my 40 years in Bengal I had known only about just as many surnames like Banerjee, Chatterjee, Bose et al.

But in AP there are thousands upon thousands, quite a few of them rare enough to track the forebears (for better or worse) of their bearers...almost like a DNA test for lineage, for the cognoscenti.

In my treasure hunt for suitable grooms for my half a dozen sisters I became a Pundit of AP Brahmin surnames and their gotras.

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In June 1977, I was visiting a prospective family at Anna Nagar, Madras at the invitation of the father of a groom for a sister of mine. This Andhra family had settled down for generations in Tamilnadu and so lost the custom of keeping their surnames.

The benign father of the groom welcomed me in and we were going through the 'intro' formalities. It was one of those routine things...as is well known, in these arranged marriages, so many other factors like horoscopes, photos and the dirty word starting with D matter a lot.

The Father, a chaste Brahmin HM Retiree said his name was PLS and it was obvious that none of the three letters revealed the suppressed surname.

I gently nudged and asked him what his surname was; and he replied casually:

"Munagala"

And I casually asked:

"Do you know the famous Munagala Venkataramayya, the renowned History Professor at Madras who renounced family life and became a disciple of Ramana Maharshi and wrote the definitive 500 Page Talks?"

All at once, PLS jumped up from his chair, embraced me, and in a choking voice replied:

"He is my grandfather!!!"

The marriage was celebrated within a month and is an astounding success (this B-i-L of mine wrote the wonderful Foreword to our second Ishani booklet a year ago).

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In the mid-1990s a young Andhra couple with a cute infant joined IIT KGP and were living in the FTA Qrs a stone's throw from our B-140 (of Reco Mela - 2).

They called on us as the husband knew my Project Student TRR at USC, LA.

The young wife was a bit reserved, since it was her husband's call and not hers. When asked her name she replied Ms L. But in my well-known curiosity for names and surnames, I asked her what her surname nee was.

And she casually replied:

"Neelamraju"

And I pursued:

"Do you know Sri Neelamraju Venkataseshaiah, the well-known Editor of Andhra Prabha, and a famous Devotee of Sri Kanchi Shankaracharya?"

Her face lit up like a thousand-watt bulb and she joyously replied:

"He is my grandfather!!!"

We then became fast family friends and got to know that her brother was our student of B Sc (Hons) at KGP during my youth (which persists thanx to this crazy blog).

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A couple of days back my son had to make a trip to the user-friendly Axis Bank at Greenlands here and I tagged along (as a pen-supplier). He was traveling to the GOC (right now he is in the sky) and had to request his Bankers to relax the per-diem upper limit for cash transactions online (dollar selling at 45 Rupees). The Front office dame directed us to Ms M 'there' and we found a vacant 'server' chair at a table on the other side of which were two vacant 'client' chairs, waiting for Ms M whose name plate displayed loudly:

M. Kasinadhuni.

My son took one chair and I was standing behind him lost in thought. Kasinadhuni Nageswara Rao was the idol of our childhood, with our Telugu text books having lessons on him:

A contemporary of Mahatma Gandhi, Freedom Fighter jailed in Salt Satyagraha, inventor of the ever-green Amrutanjan, Founder of the magazines Andhra Patrika, Bharati, philanthropist, and winner of the beloved titles Deshoddharaka, Kalaprapurna and Viswadaata, a legend in his lifetime.

In a few moments a bright-eyed young lady came in and took her chair and asked my son his business; and pushed a white paper asking him to write up an Application keeping the figures blank.

And he promptly borrowed my pen and got down to the long-forgotten handwriting.

And she then looked at me quizzically and I pointed to my son and she pointed to the empty chair. I said thanks, gave her one of my famous winning smiles and asked her if Nageswara Rao is related to her; not the other way, diplomatically {;-}.

And in a few moments of rejoicing, this great-granddaughter of KN gave my son like what is Biblicaly speaking:

"Other seeds fell on good soil and produced grain, some a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty"

.........................Mathew 13.8

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