An infectious smile and simplicity make my friend, Saurav Seth, stand out in a crowd. Seth is a highly acclaimed Chemical Engineer for his operational expertise on Fluidized Catalytic Cracking (FCC) Unit. Recently, we had invited him to Guwahati Refinery to share his expertise with our Guwahati Refinery Engineers.
So in the evening, six old friends Saurav Seth, Lalan Paul, Basav Teli, Saurav Gupta, Vikash Badan and I, met after a long time over a small get-together. After joining Indian Oil, all of us underwent training together along-with a group of diverse Chemical Engineers at different locations. Years have rolled by and some of them have left Indian Oil; but the bond of friendship with most of them has remained impervious. The evening with friends brought back memories of our carefree time of togetherness in Baroda and Dehradun.
Kharag was a fascinating character in our batch. He did his B.Tech from IIT, Kharagpur and that’s how he earned his name Kharag Singh. Another friend was terribly fond of eggs and his insatiable craving for eggs earned him the coveted title of “Andaman (eggman)”. There were few more such immensely talented engineers and they all were suitably bestowed upon with such befitting titles.
Alkapuri in Baroda was one of our favourite hunting grounds and like wolves, we used to hunt in a pack. That evening, I was about to walk down to the Officers’ chummery after dropping down from the last bus to the Refinery Township from the City. Suddenly, I could spot my friends Ranjeet Prasad and Saurav Gupta sitting on the railing of the dimly lit bus stop.
“Where are you going at this hour ?”
“Off to Bombay. We are going to buy Chess Board for Gupta”
In those days, Saurav Gupta was obsessive with Chess and wanted to buy a particular type of Chessboard found only in one shop in Mumbai. As per Saurav, a small scene of a Bollywood blockbuster was also shot in that shop. His high expectation about the sports shop owned by Kiran More in Baroda was watered down by the dismal quality . So, there, they were waiting to board the last bus returning to the City to catch the night train to Mumbai.
“Halt the bus till I come back from my room. I am going with you to Bombay”. The decision was made immediately and I started running to my room to pick up some cash and toiletry kit.
“What about your Rail ticket?” Saurav was concerned.
“We will manage” I shouted back while running.
So, we three could board the second class non AC compartment at the nick of time for an overnight train journey from Baroda to Mumbai. I happened to be in the bathroom while the TT came for the rounds. The night passed off peacefully without any more arrival of the TT as I shared the berth with Ranjeet. Next day morning, the first person, who came to greet me at the Victoria Terminal Platform, was a Railway ticket checker. The Indian Oil card somehow helped me to avoid further ordeal. I paid the fine.
Roaming around Mumbai, we soon got tired by the evening. By then, Saurav had bought four or five sets of chessboard for playing different boards at different time of the day! We had a late night train back to Baroda and required some rest to freshen up after a heavy lunch. There was an AC movie hall near the restaurant playing an awful Hindi movie. “Jaani Dushmani” was perfect for us for an evening siesta.
Memories of that wonderful trip to Mumbai from Baroda without a train ticket still lingers. Whenever, we three meet, invariably, we remember those days. Till Ranjeet left Digboi, his was the closest family to us. The thought of sumptuous sweets and food, his mother used to prepare, still tinker my taste buds.
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Once a very senior HR officer from Head Quarter came to visit the trainees at Baroda to personally oversee the training program, we were undergoing. Over a training session, he enquired whether we were comfortable with our stay and food.
“Treat me as your own brother and don’t hesitate to share your concerns even if it is personal”
We told him we were comfortable and had no such issues. But like a gracious Santa, he kept on declaring his intention to resolve any issues we had, if any !
“ I have an issue” Kharag raised his hand. “ Sir, I am unable to find a girl friend here in Baroda.”
While the entire class broke into an uncontrolled frenzy of laughter and our “good Santa” expressed his inability to help, Kharag maintained his composure with a grim face. His stoical face meant business!
During the Durga Puja Holidays, some of us in Dehradun decided for a trip to Shimla and Manali. Initially, I hesitated to join as I preferred to do the pending project job of designing an azetropic distillation column for separation of Ethanol. Ranjeet finally convinced me that project could wait, but not such a trip. We reached Shimla late and went straight to the Mall Road without confirming any Hotel for the night stay. The October weather was fabulous in Shimla and the Mall was electrifying with many young people strolling in the road.
Suddenly at some corner, our Kharag could see a poster of a movie titled “ Kama”. The weather was cold and Kharag decided it was a must see in the late evening show. So, Kharag, Andaman (Eggman) and another friend (I am unable recollect) left their luggage with us to go straight to the movie.
The hotel, we zeroed upon, was a cheap one. We had to carry our luggage atop the hillock as the entrance lane was too narrow for our Tata Sumo. Huffing and puffing, I kept on cursing Kharag and his troupe for leaving us with their luggage to carry.
At hotel, I called Nikhil Gandhi ( Working at Shell Global now) to my room to perfect a plan I hatched to teach Kharag a lesson. When Kharag and his gang returned to Hotel, over dinner, I informed I was not going to Manali with the group.
In the evening, after Kharag left us, I told, we befriended with a group of girls from Chandigarh University at the Mall. I was invited by the one with the blue jacket to join them in their car to Manali next morning and I readily accepted the offer. Nikhil enthusiastically proclaimed to be the witness to my new hobnobbing. I required to pinch Nikhil a few times to remind him not to overact to raise suspicion of the prank we were playing.
Kharag and Anda were crestfallen. Kharag cursed his fate for deciding on the movie which yielded nothing! Tragedy is contagious and a pall of gloom was also perceptible in the face of Andaman as both of them starting exchanging words for deciding on such a bad investment in the movie.
After food, Kharag pleaded to take him with me in the car with the University girls. It was just not fair for me being already engaged to someone. He reminded me how I kept others waiting for hours in the only PCO at IIP, Dehradun Hostel while chatting with my fiancée.
“Don’t you remember her face ...You idiot.”
Next day morning, it was time to move to Manali. Kharag was happy not because I was accompanying him with other IOCL friends, but because I wasn’t in the other car to Manali with the girl wearing that blue jacket
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We were merrily playing Antakshri on the way to Manali when a Policeman sporting a star in his uniform asked us to stop. The car , we were travelling, had a nameplate of some Ahmed , a minister from Uttarakhand. The Policeman demanded to see the taxi permit which our driver failed to produce.
“All of you get down. You will no more travel in this car” he ordered.
Immediately our negotiation specialist Santosh got down to have a discussion with the Policeman. But the Police remained unmoved by all the emotional torture of Santosh.
To prove that the car, we were driving was not a taxi but a personal car of the Minister, someone went a step further. “ Minister Saab ka beta bhi ayah hein hamare saath” (Minister’s son is also with us).
The medicine seemed to work instantly as voice of the Policeman mellowed down.
“Kaha hain Minister Saab ka Beta ?” (Where is the Minister’s son?)
So Abhinandan Jain, who was a little away from the scene, was pointed out as the Minister’s son.
With all humility, the Policeman asked Abhinandan “ Aapka Subhnaam ?” ( What’s your good name ?”
“ Abhinandan Jain” Pat came the answer.
“ Ahmed ka beta Jain.... B..C....M....C ###88&&” . Now he was a raging inferno.
In the ensuing melee, someone pushed a hundred rupee note inside his pocket and all of a sudden, the policeman’s anger melted down like an ice-cream.
Finally that evening, we reached Manali.
You can contact Kamaljit at kamaljitmedhi1975@gmail.com
