A Tale Best Forgotten...

My stint at Kapchorwa Hospital in 1970-71 was an experience of a different kind. Kapchorwa is situated in eastern Uganda, about 65 km. from Mbale, the nearest 'big' town. Kapchorwa sits at an altitude of 5,900 ft. above sea level and is akin to what we would call a hill station in India. The hills of Kapchorwa -- even today -- have a certain unspoilt beauty, and the air is crisp and cool. Kapchorwa is close to Mount Elgon that sits on the Uganda-Kenya border. Just outside the town after a sharp bend in the road, one can see the famous Sipi Falls, a majestic sight of three waterfalls that plunge down the mountains at the edge of Mount Elgon National Park. Kapchorwa is also home to the famous Bugisu tribe. 

Back in those days, Kapchorwa was the district headquarters, even though it was a very small place. Our district hospital was also a small one -- with about 60 beds and a single doctor (me). This was small-town Africa in the early 1970s. There was no electricity in the town those days, but the hospital did have a generator (strictly for hospital use only). I was the only expatriate in the town. In contrast, the nearest town, Mbale, had plenty of Asians and other expatriates as well.

I was new to Uganda, and often felt lonely in Kapchorwa, where I was in the midst of complete strangers. I looked forward to my occasional visits to Mbale, where I would go for shopping for groceries and vegetables once a week.

Though occasionally I would have Indian visitors in Kapchorwa. They were welcome indeed. I looked forward to such visits -- it was a rare opportunity for me to interact with people from my own country, and may be converse in Hindi or Punjabi. 

One fine day, a Punjabi friend of mine based in Kampala, came over to stay with me. He was establishing a saw mill in that region and hence, was a frequent visitor. On one of his visits, he had brought along a patient, a sardarji, working for him. That is how we became friends. After that, he would drop in whenever he came to Kapchorwa. 

On one occasion which I remember very vividly for reasons best forgotten, he visited my house with his wife. I was delighted as usual to meet one of my kin. We chatted for a long time over cups of tea. After a while, my friend's wife used the toilet. Then they said goodbye and left. 

Later I discovered, much to my disgust, a nasty piece of turd floating in the pot. I felt nauseated and all the happy feelings of spending a pleasant evening with fellow Indians evaporated. I flushed the toilet several times, but the lump stubbornly, decided to stay put. I was at my wit's end. I was trained to deal with the most complex of medical problems, but nothing like this. I also had no intention of leaving this unpleasant task to my houseboy, lest he wonder what my visitors were like. 

I had tried every trick in the book -- and failed. Left with no option, I employed Plan B. I brought a big stick from the garden and got to work. Over the coming (and very unpleasant) 15 minutes, I broke the lump into several smaller pieces, struggled to keep myself from vomiting and after multiple flushes, I got rid of the damn thing.

I have many pleasant memories of Kapchorwa -- but this one is an ink blot.

"Tororo Or Toronto" - What Is The Difference?

Back in 1970, I was fresh out of medical college and had just arrived in Uganda to work with the Ministry of Health as a doctor. Uganda was called the 'Pearl of Africa’. It was a very beautiful country and everything was so different. The climate was salubrious, even though Uganda is on equator. Uganda is at an elevation of about 3,000 ft. above sea level. It is home to tropical forests and sits on the shores of the great Lake Victoria, the largest freshwater lake in Africa. The people were simple, straightforward and happy-go-lucky. I loved the place and its people.

All these early experiences were novel to me, a young man who had stepped out of India for the very first time. I would write long letters to my folks back home describing the beauty of Uganda and its people. Those were the days when we heavily depended on our age-old postal system. That was the age prior to the advent of cell phones and internet which have transformed communication drastically today. Even the phone was a novelty in India of those days, and trunk calls were extremely rare. Handwritten letters were my only connection to my people back home. Unlike today, I was a very prolific writer of letters to my friends and people at home. 

I was posted to a district hospital in Tororo in eastern Uganda, bordering Kenya. Tororo is famous for a strange rock formation, known as the Tororo Rock, and back in the day, there was a vibrant Indian community in the town. 

It would take about a week to send or get a letter from India. One day when I got home from work, I discovered to my pleasant surprise that I had got an airmail letter from one of my cousins. Funnily though, when I saw the date stamps, I realized that I got it after a month and a half. I was stumped. Unlike today, the postal service was pretty efficient back then. 

I looked at the stamps closely, and made a startling discovery. The reason for the delay was that the letter, instead of coming straight to Tororo, Uganda, was mistakenly dispatched to Toronto, Canada! Who knew that the names were so similar! When the error was realized in Toronto, it was redirected to the correct address, as second class mail (via sea mail). And that took a long time to reach my new home in Uganda. 

Similarities in the names led to this faux pas. And it also gave me a cause for amusement.

A Tale of the Twin Towns!

How the towns are evolving and taking a particular shape or pattern over the years is a matter of great interest and excitement. It does provide a good background of the history and topography of the place. It also tells us the path “civilisation” has taken so far, whether in the right or wrong direction, and how we could have done still better.

Yamuna Nagar and Jagadhri are two small twin towns located in the north of Haryana on a railway line connecting Punjab in the west to Uttar Pradesh in the east. The towns also abut Uttarakhand and Himachal Pradesh to the north. These twin towns assumed prominence only after 1947, when settlers, mainly Hindus and Sikhs, from West Punjab (now in Pakistan) made the twin towns their abode, to begin their lives all over again, from a nought. My family was one such example.

Back then, the two towns were about 6 miles apart and the intervening part was uninhabited, a jungle, and a journey by tongas was a nightmare after dusk. The present Yamuna Nagar was a very small place about 65 years back at the time of independence. It was called Abdullapur. Soon after Partition a new name, Jamna Nagar was given and as the time passed it took on its present name, Yamuna Nagar. 

The first high school of great repute at that time established by a great philanthropist, Seth Mukand Lal of Radaur, was established here in Yamuna Nagar and named after him, as Mukand Lal National High School. Though the school has undergone several changes with the time, (sadly decay is one of them), and till date, the main building bears the original name of the school with Abdullapur and Jamna Nagar on its face. The school building was a great structure of those early days soon after independence. Realizing the need for a college, the school gave away half of its northern wing to start the college in 1955. These institutions played a great role in imparting education to the children at very nominal fee in the post partition era.

A few months back, I visited the school and I was surprised to see my name on the “honour board” for securing 679 marks, in my matriculation examinations, way back in 1958, along with my more illustrious friends. It was really nostalgic seeing this.

The other two important industries in the town were a paper mill of Thapar Group and a sugar mill which are thriving till now and doing very well. With these major industries already there, an industrial area was developed for other ancillary factories. In fact Yamuna Nagar became a small industrial town of great significance in Haryana after Faridabad.

Jagadhri, located about 6 miles in the northern direction, with the courts and a missionary hospital also had and an industry of brass utensils, which has thrived since the Mughal era. With the passage of time brass has given way to steel. As we observe the progress of Jagadhri has been sluggish in comparison to that of Yamuna Nagar. However, the intervening land between the two towns has undergone a sea change with industry, schools, hospitals and residential colonies. As the development proceeded, the breathing spaces, like parks for greenery and to cater for small children were neglected. Now, it is difficult to discern where one town meets the other one. These have mingled in each other. 

As children soon after independence we saw a narrow gauge railway which used to ply between Jagadhri and Yamuna Nagar to ferry goods to and fro, popularly called chhoti line. It was discontinued after a few years. Interestingly, it finds a mention in the memoirs of the retired Director of CBI, Joginder Singh, who landed in Jagadhri soon after Partition and did have a joy ride in the same train.

The areas surrounding Jagadhri had been a thriving hunting ground for centuries with thick vegetation providing the right habitat for wildlife. It is said that the Mughals and medieval aristocrats used to hunt for Nilgai and wild boar over here, in the jungles of Kalesar. It is also believed that the great Birbal, a courtier in the imperial court of Emperor Akbar belonged to these parts, from a village called Buria, a few kilometres out of Jagadhri!

Undoubtedly, this area is dripping with juices of history, only if we care to enjoy that sweet taste of heritage!

One interesting incidence happened in 1989, when I was working in the Christian Hospital. One of the newly qualified doctor from CMC, Ludhiana, Dr. Lovina Bhatti, was posted to our hospital in Jagadhri (she is now married with two children and working in UK as an eye surgeon).  She boarded a train in Ludhiana, headed for Jagadhri and got down at the station and took a rickshaw to go to her destination. Little did she realise that Jagadhri railway station is located in Yamuna Nagar and town called Jagadhri is far away. She wondered why it took so long for her to reach her destination. With a great laugh she narrated the whole story of her arrival in Jagadhri.

No Love Greater Than The Love Of Eating!

While in Mumbai, we thought of enjoying or indulging in some exotic food, and decided to go to the Britannia and Company, an Parsi-Iranian restaurant, located near New Custom House in the Ballard Estate area of South Mumbai. 

Founded in 1923, the restaurant has maintained its popularity over the decades. Though Britannia is not a very posh or sophisticated one, their clientele is quite modern and "up-to-date". The rush was quite unprecedented. Inside all the tables were fully occupied with a lot of noise, that excited conversation and friendly banter, as is the usual practice in such places. 

The manager noted our names and asked us to wait outside for the turn. On asking how long  it will take to get a table, we are told it could take upto one hour. As we were waiting outside, hungry people were scrutinising the menu card and trying to decide on what to eat when they got their tables inside, without  wasting any further time. The good thing was that the clients - tourists, office-goers and college-crowd, were waiting very patiently and were being called in as and when the tables were being vacated by the satiated customers. 

Despite being told that the waiting time would be an hour, we were able to gain entry in 25-30 minutes. 

The menu card is very specific and emphatic in certain instructions, like, "We do not serve beef or beef products; chicken and mutton served boneless; order once placed cannot be cancelled; take away parcels available; all bank holidays open, ten minutes to serve; credit/ debit / food coupons not accepted. Mode of payment; strictly cash INR."

An instruction worth mentioning was "please vacate your seat after receiving the bill and customers are requested to pay their bill to the waiter and please understand that others are waiting". 

It was quite evident and understandable that Britannia's intention is to improve the services and security of the clients. 

Another interesting instruction said "Any individual or article will be checked on suspicion." 

This instruction reminded me of the terrorist attacks on the German Bakery in Pune and the 26/11 attacks on  Cafe Leopold, including the Taj Mahal Hotel and the Trident Hotel in 2008. The sole reason for an attack being the heavy rush of the clients due to the popularity of these eating joints, hence an extra care and caution has to be kept in mind.

The restaurant is being efficiently managed by two octogenarian Parsi brothers - the Kohinoor brothers (again as Google told me). One of the brothers, Boman Kohinoor, kept moving around the tables talking to their patrons, ensuring that they were all well-served and returned back happy. 

All said and done, the food served is Parsi and Iranian. Our order was for chicken berry pulao, vegetarian  Dhansak, salli chicken, fresh lime soda, raspberry soda and caramel custard. In a few moments we were told that the kitchens had run out of vegetarian  Dhansak, so we opted for mutton berry pulao instead. 

The berry pulao served in Britannia is a variant of the popular Iranian dish - zereshk polow.

Our order was attended to within a reasonable time as promised. It was delicious no doubt. It is understood that the berries, known as Irani zeereshk berries, are purplish-red in colour and are especially imported from Iran. At home, I check out Google, which told me that the berries are barberries - a species called berberis vulgaris. The berries have unique medicinal properties to ward off certain diseases. 

The berry pulaos were especially delicious, not excessively oily or spicy, with unique blend sourness and sweetness that comes from the berries. We enjoyed the pulaos with raspberry soda - a very traditional Parsi drink, which is usually had on special occasions.

Indeed, the wait at Britannia was worthwhile, and justified its motto, "there is no love greater than the love of eating".