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Clearing the
Intermediate examination was, in fact, clearing the stage of higher secondary
education. My higher education truly started as I stepped into the III and IV
years of the college. I chose Political Science, Geography and English
Literature for the graduate course of two years, both having examinations
conducted by the Agra University to which the College was affiliated at that
point in time. Much earlier, it was affiliated to Calcutta University,
Allahabad University, etc. Later, of course the college was tagged on to Vikram
University in Ujjain before it was brought under Gwalior’s own University.
Before I speak
further on my years in the college, insignificant though they were, I might as well
write down a few lines about the College building. For a place like Gwalior,
then wallowing in the backwaters of the country, it was something to be proud
of. While the building in which we studied was built during 1879-1891 the
College was established in 1846 and was known as Lashkar Madarsa - Lashkar
being the name of the town. It was renamed as Victoria College in 1887. Although
located in Gwalior. later it was ironically renamed, not after a Scindia but
after Maharani Laxmi Bai of Jhansi who was denied assistance by the Scindias to
fight the British during the 1857 Mutiny or the First War of Independence,
whatever one may like to call it. Finding her situation hopeless she decided to
end her life at Gwalior where she was camping. The College (MLB College for
short) is currently known as Maharani Laxmi Bai College of Excellence.
Built in the
then prevailing Indo- Saracenic style, the structure is constructed of
sandstone procured from what was then known as Rajputana. Even the workers were
brought from there and Gujarat. The trellises on the porch and on the storey
above are typical of Rajasthan. Its rooms have 25 to 35 feet high ceilings to
keep them cool during the hot summers of Gwalior. I remember the tall doors, of
teak and frosted glass, on which were writ large two alphabets: VC for Victoria
College
What was most interesting was the stairway for
going up to the first floor. The first flight of it would commence from two
sides as one entered the building from the porch after going across a wide
verandah that went round the building. The first flight would end at a wall and
the second flight moved along it up to the second landing and then two flights
from the two sides would climb and converge on a landing that was suspended in
the air, From there two flights took off rising in two opposite directions – one
for the Union Hall and the other for the classes. It was somewhat like the
stairways of palaces of royalty, shorn of all their embellishments, seen in the
Hollywood films of the 1950s.
The building used to look so balanced with
its two wings and the clock tower in the middle seemingly piercing the sky.
That balance has been destroyed by installation of a statue of Maharani Laxmi
Bai very close to its porch - as if naming the College after her was not
enough. We Indians are too fond of statues. For decades the College used to
dominate the skyline of the town and the hourly chimes of the clock used to be
heard right inside the bazaars a mile or so away. My mother used to work by
that chime and her blood pressure would rise if she happened to be unable to
complete her targeted chores by the time the clock struck one in the afternoon.
Built on many
acres of land, it had a sand stone compound wall all around it which was
brought down by some mad cap who replaced it with very pedestrian-looking
hideous compound walls. It had extensive grounds for cricket, football and
hockey, spaces for badminton and tennis courts, a gymnasium and some massive
trees.
When I joined
the College I somehow felt proud as not only my father was a teacher here, all
my elder siblings had gone through its portals – some had passed out and the
rest were still working through their respective courses. The College was so
much with us, so well entwined with our lives that we were happy to be there as
indeed, I remembered, I used to be happy to be there with my father years ago
in the evenings during my childhood.
For graduate
courses some of the professors used to be top class and some others were better
than ordinary. Our Political Science professor who used to take classes on
Political Thought was a Ph. D. from the London School of Economics where he
happened to have been taught by none other than Harold Laski. The Head of the
Department of Geography, Prof MA Qureshy, a very close friend of my father, was
also exceptional.
The faculty
would be very helpful and go out of their way to assist the students to come to
grips with the subject. I remember one
of the Political Science lecturers was so committed that he invited a visiting
professor from the US and requested him to take four lectures on the US
Constitution when we were in III year. His name was Schleicher and was perhaps
in the faculty of Oregon University. He had come to India on the invitation of
Indian Council of World Affairs at New Delhi of which our lecturer too was a
member.
As I entered the
BA classes I lost a few friends and acquired some new ones. Among the new ones
were mostly sons of Maratha feudal all of whom barring one have passed on. The
only one remaining and whose father was a government servant, Udaisingh Ingle
is still around. So are others like Ramesh Tiwari, DVS Kapil. While Kapil now
spends six months every year in the US with his two sons I should like to
dilate a bit on Tiwari.
Ramesh Tiwari
was senior to me in the College but I just do not remember how I got to know
him. He was doing his B.Sc. Having scraped through, he switched to Geography
for post graduation and obtained a good Second Div. That wouldn’t have taken
him anywhere but for his prowess, despite his bulk, in Cricket, Hockey and Football
which fetched him a placement in Bishop Cotton School, an old and reputed
public school in Simla. He chucked that job for personal reasons and joined
Yadvendra Public School in Patiala. For a boy from a family of modest resources
he was pretty enterprising. Throwing the Patiala job he moved to Nairobi to
teach in one of the public schools there. While teaching there, he somehow
insinuated himself into Reading University in UK and started working on his
Ph.D. With a doctorate in his bag, he got appointed in the University of
Manitoba at Winnipeg. Before leaving for Winnipeg he came to our place at
Bhopal in 1965 from where he called me asking me to go over to meet him. I was
in Raipur that was 24 hours away by train. That’s when he revealed his plans to
get married to an English girl who is still with him.
He has been a
friend for around sixty years, but if one were to ask me, I wouldn’t know how
he infiltrated into our household and of all the people, became pally with my
mother who was generally known as Hitler among my friends. He came to know very
well everyone of my family – all my brothers two of whom are no more.
I passed my
bachelor’s examination with a high second division and opted for Masters in
Political Science in clearing which, too, I did very well. In those days first
divisions were very hard to come by. Only two of my siblings obtained them –
one in Zoology and the other, my sister, in Geography. My eldest brother topped
the University but missed I Class. I too suffered the same fate.
*Photo from internet
*Photo from internet
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