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As I repeated a hundred times earlier, I was yanked at 15 in 1958 from a village without electricity to the posh university city of Vizagh. And was all at sea...metaphorically as well as literally. Indeed the sea there was my best friend in my highs and lows...with my footprints on every grain of its sandy beach from the Light House atop Dolphin's Nose to Lawson's Bay at the other end.
Three months after I was admitted (like a patient) to the physics honors course there, my MD uncle in whose house I was living asked me to apply for the merit-cum-means scholarship at my university. And I walked to the Registrar's Office, an imposing building named after some Cattamanchi Ramalinga Reddy (Google tells me he was the founder of the university, in 1926).
The clerk there issued me a sheaf of papers to be filled in and submitted along with 3 copies each of my father's salary certificate, the first page of my SSLC register for my date of birth, the last page for proof of the marks I got in my school-final, my marks list and pass certificate of my pre-university, proof of my payment of the registration fee at the university and so on and so forth, totaling in all half a dozen certificates.
And he said that all the copies must be attested as True Copies by a Gazetted Officer.
I didn't know what a gazetted officer looked like since I had never seen a government gazette till then or even now. I wrote to Father asking him to send me at once a copy of his salary certificate and asking him, rather impolitely, if he was a gazetted officer. He sent me a copy of his salary certificate duly signed by his DEO saying neither he nor his DEO were gazetted officers, and giving me the lowdown that the Collector-cum-District Magistrate at Vizagh would surely be a gazetted officer. That, I thought, solved my problem since the Collector Office (another British extravaganza) was but a stone's throw from where we lived in Vizagh.
So I bought a couple of dozen foolscap sheets and spent half a day making laborious copies of all the documents required (3 copies each) in long hand and took them with trepidation to the Collector Office.
And discovered his khus-khus-punkha-equipped room.
And was duly prevented from entering it by the mustachioed darwan wearing his brasso-polished dawal who said:
"Sir is busy in a meeting...go to his PA (Personal Assistant) in the office next door"
The PA frowned at me, looked into my papers, and gave them back:
"Get these things typed...not handwritten"
There went all my hard work into the bin and I made a trip to the nearby typing shop (tap-tap-typpetty-tap) with the hand-scrawled name-board:
"Siva Typing Center"
and met the Boss there with my problem. He looked into my papers and asked me to buy and get 20 foolscap sheets and 6 Kores carbon papers ("don't roll them!").
That cost me a whopping Rs 3 that I could ill afford. And I got back to the Boss who passed on my papers to the first typist he found finishing his assignment. And in the afternoon I got my carbon copies intact and took them to the PA to the Collector, who inspected them with a wriggled nose and said:
"Too many mistakes...go to a job typist...not a typing institute"
By then I was vexed enough to forget all about my merit-cum-means scholarship.
Ten days later my Uncle reminded me:
"What happened to your application?"
"I couldn't get a gazetted officer to attest them as true copies"
"Give them to me and I will get it done"
"Are YOU a gazetted officer!!!"
"Not yet...I am only an Assistant Physician now and I will be a gazetted officer in 3 months when I hope to get promoted as a (full) Physician. But I will get them signed by my boss for you".
And he was as good as his word.
Three months after submitting all my documents I made a trip to the Registry with a thumping heart to ask if I am getting that fat scholarship (renewable every year, if I pass) of Rs 50 per month.
The clerk looked at me and into his files and said:
"Sorry boy! Your merit is ok but not your means...your father's salary is Rs 210 while the new upper limit for means is Rs 100. And moreover, you are the wrong caste"
Phut went all my dreams...and my uncle's as well.
I never applied for any such scholarship again for all of 4 years.
But lo and behold, one day when I was in my final year M Sc, I got per registered post a colossal award of Rs 100 per month straight from the Government of India...a pure Merit Scholarship...without my applying at all. And it was not just an empty gesture but there was a check enclosed.
From that day till now, touch wood, I never had to beg, borrow, or steal money...not other goodies though...
Two years into my research fellowship I decided that I was not going to get that coveted doctorate from the prestigious Andhra University at Vizagh before I went gray. And was looking out for jobs. And there was this ad for an Associate Lecturer (Rs 375 starting) from IIT KGP, and I and my colleague PSKM decided to apply (two birds on the same withering tree)...2-tier sleeper tickets were the sweetener.
And once again a bunch of true copies to be attested by a gazetted officer.
By then uncle was a full-fledged physician but I didn't have the courage to go to him...he would scold me for ditching my doctorate program.
But by then I matured and got worldly wise and made a trip to the Collector Office jauntily and pulled the awesome darwan aside and pushed a Rs 10 note into his pocket discreetly and gave him my papers.
I got them back in 2 minutes...
At IIT KGP, the first thing I inquired after joining there was if I am myself a coveted gazetted officer. And was told:
"Not yet...Associate Lecturers (Rs 375 starting) are not gazetted officers...Lecturers (Rs 400 starting) are."
It was 5 good years before I was anointed a gazetted officer...and felt very gazetted...one among 500 at IIT KGP...
**********************************************************************************************************
As I repeated a hundred times earlier, I was yanked at 15 in 1958 from a village without electricity to the posh university city of Vizagh. And was all at sea...metaphorically as well as literally. Indeed the sea there was my best friend in my highs and lows...with my footprints on every grain of its sandy beach from the Light House atop Dolphin's Nose to Lawson's Bay at the other end.
Three months after I was admitted (like a patient) to the physics honors course there, my MD uncle in whose house I was living asked me to apply for the merit-cum-means scholarship at my university. And I walked to the Registrar's Office, an imposing building named after some Cattamanchi Ramalinga Reddy (Google tells me he was the founder of the university, in 1926).
The clerk there issued me a sheaf of papers to be filled in and submitted along with 3 copies each of my father's salary certificate, the first page of my SSLC register for my date of birth, the last page for proof of the marks I got in my school-final, my marks list and pass certificate of my pre-university, proof of my payment of the registration fee at the university and so on and so forth, totaling in all half a dozen certificates.
And he said that all the copies must be attested as True Copies by a Gazetted Officer.
I didn't know what a gazetted officer looked like since I had never seen a government gazette till then or even now. I wrote to Father asking him to send me at once a copy of his salary certificate and asking him, rather impolitely, if he was a gazetted officer. He sent me a copy of his salary certificate duly signed by his DEO saying neither he nor his DEO were gazetted officers, and giving me the lowdown that the Collector-cum-District Magistrate at Vizagh would surely be a gazetted officer. That, I thought, solved my problem since the Collector Office (another British extravaganza) was but a stone's throw from where we lived in Vizagh.
So I bought a couple of dozen foolscap sheets and spent half a day making laborious copies of all the documents required (3 copies each) in long hand and took them with trepidation to the Collector Office.
And discovered his khus-khus-punkha-equipped room.
And was duly prevented from entering it by the mustachioed darwan wearing his brasso-polished dawal who said:
"Sir is busy in a meeting...go to his PA (Personal Assistant) in the office next door"
The PA frowned at me, looked into my papers, and gave them back:
"Get these things typed...not handwritten"
There went all my hard work into the bin and I made a trip to the nearby typing shop (tap-tap-typpetty-tap) with the hand-scrawled name-board:
"Siva Typing Center"
and met the Boss there with my problem. He looked into my papers and asked me to buy and get 20 foolscap sheets and 6 Kores carbon papers ("don't roll them!").
That cost me a whopping Rs 3 that I could ill afford. And I got back to the Boss who passed on my papers to the first typist he found finishing his assignment. And in the afternoon I got my carbon copies intact and took them to the PA to the Collector, who inspected them with a wriggled nose and said:
"Too many mistakes...go to a job typist...not a typing institute"
By then I was vexed enough to forget all about my merit-cum-means scholarship.
Ten days later my Uncle reminded me:
"What happened to your application?"
"I couldn't get a gazetted officer to attest them as true copies"
"Give them to me and I will get it done"
"Are YOU a gazetted officer!!!"
"Not yet...I am only an Assistant Physician now and I will be a gazetted officer in 3 months when I hope to get promoted as a (full) Physician. But I will get them signed by my boss for you".
And he was as good as his word.
Three months after submitting all my documents I made a trip to the Registry with a thumping heart to ask if I am getting that fat scholarship (renewable every year, if I pass) of Rs 50 per month.
The clerk looked at me and into his files and said:
"Sorry boy! Your merit is ok but not your means...your father's salary is Rs 210 while the new upper limit for means is Rs 100. And moreover, you are the wrong caste"
Phut went all my dreams...and my uncle's as well.
I never applied for any such scholarship again for all of 4 years.
But lo and behold, one day when I was in my final year M Sc, I got per registered post a colossal award of Rs 100 per month straight from the Government of India...a pure Merit Scholarship...without my applying at all. And it was not just an empty gesture but there was a check enclosed.
From that day till now, touch wood, I never had to beg, borrow, or steal money...not other goodies though...
Two years into my research fellowship I decided that I was not going to get that coveted doctorate from the prestigious Andhra University at Vizagh before I went gray. And was looking out for jobs. And there was this ad for an Associate Lecturer (Rs 375 starting) from IIT KGP, and I and my colleague PSKM decided to apply (two birds on the same withering tree)...2-tier sleeper tickets were the sweetener.
And once again a bunch of true copies to be attested by a gazetted officer.
By then uncle was a full-fledged physician but I didn't have the courage to go to him...he would scold me for ditching my doctorate program.
But by then I matured and got worldly wise and made a trip to the Collector Office jauntily and pulled the awesome darwan aside and pushed a Rs 10 note into his pocket discreetly and gave him my papers.
I got them back in 2 minutes...
At IIT KGP, the first thing I inquired after joining there was if I am myself a coveted gazetted officer. And was told:
"Not yet...Associate Lecturers (Rs 375 starting) are not gazetted officers...Lecturers (Rs 400 starting) are."
It was 5 good years before I was anointed a gazetted officer...and felt very gazetted...one among 500 at IIT KGP...
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Lucky you !
ReplyDeleteI joined BHU as Lecturer in 1964 and retired as Professor in 2003 but I never became a Gazetted Officer. Nor even the HoD / Dean / Director, IT, BHU. We all had to go to NCC Office in the campus, for attestations by a Gazetted Officer !!!