And still, it is Poona for me…
But still, it is Poona for me… 
The New Poona Station built by the British early century could be anywhere in England. Cumbria, Cotswold or Chester.
It is a strange characteristic of human behaviour pattern to try and get away from homeland shores to conquer the world, only to redefine the new lands in the look and feel of the homeland. The British were no different to imprint this transference shift on our psyche and hence tinkered with cultural modifications.
Many a name of ancient Indian Cities & Rivers were given anglicised adaptations that made it easier for the English to pronounce and recall strange Indian names. Thus changes took place - Pune to Poona, Kolkata to Calcutta. Tiruvanthapuram to Trivandram and Bengaluru to Bangalore and more…
The ‘sangam’ of two rivers is considered sacred in Indian texts and is considered as punya. ‘Punya’ now, s a difficult word to translate; I cannot site a corresponding English word to convey its exact envisioned meaning. However, it can be taken as a sacred virtue for good karma.
By and by it came to be referred to as Punyanagari. Hence, the name Pune it came to be.....short and sweet.
The Soiree's Garden Tea Party
Under British rule, it was Poona and the seasonal monsoon capital of 'The Bombay Presidency', situated at the coming together of Mula and Mutha rivers.
In the 18th century, it was the capital of Raja Shivaji, the Maratha king who defied the Moghul emperor Aurangzeb.
In 1817, the British gained control of Pune and it became Poona with headquarters of the Government of Bombay Presidency here and established a large military Cantonment. Raj Bhavan, I am told was the government house during the British Raj in India. built in 1866.
The building was impressive and designed by James Trubshawe and is situated in Ganeshkhind, Pune.
The Raj Bhavan ....the former Bombay Monsoon Residency
What I recall of this city early on, is surrounded by colour and drama of childhood memories of the Fifties, then later part of the Sixties and a bit of the Seventies. It was Poona then. The favoured growing reminiscences tilt favour of Poona. Thus it remained Poona for me, despite the historical context.
The 23rd NDA Reunion, 2019 was planned to be in Pune, though for many of 23rders this city will also forever remain fixated as POONA, embedded in the mind and soul of their growing up years. The old boy’s network of 23rd memories and nostalgia came from gruelling reformation together at NDA Khadakvasla, and that says it all.
In the 18th century, it was the capital of Raja Shivaji, the Maratha king who defied the Moghul emperor Aurangzeb.
The building was impressive and designed by James Trubshawe and is situated in Ganeshkhind, Pune.
Cadets of 23rd
NDA was their Alma-Mater. It took in grimy faced, pugnacious teenage boys and contoured their persona for tough-nosed soldiering. These boys were the tough combatants of the 1965 and 1971 wars. Not to forget the Insurgencies of the East.
Their 23rd-course training was cut short by six months from IMA as a necessity that arose from the political faux-pax that led to 1962 debacle on China border. As a matter of precedence, many cadets are co-opted by the fraternal obligations by many illustrious regiments, quite akin to corporate head-hunters. My husband was channelled on towards 'The Brigade of the Guards'. He went on to be a part of a fledgeling new raising, the 7th Guards in 1963. The Battalion within weeks drew the first blood in Nagaland. At the helm of this advance Patrol duty was a young captain who also earned his baptism under fire in a Naga rebel ambush.
However, on flip-side, we were a few 23rd NDA-Spice girls, who had childhood and College connects with Poona.
The Wadia College Alumni in 23rd
These childhood bonds of the early '60s for me go way-way back to a one-horse cantonment town of ‘Dehu Road’, beyond Khirkee, Pimpri and Chinchwad and a prep school at St Mary’s at Poona. Ironic as it may sound, all the guys of 23rd were in training at NDA and our family used to come to Khadakvasla to meet my maternal uncle, Cadet HS Mader of 21st NDA.
It is a small world. 
That is not all, the world does get smaller.
In this case, it was Hepatitis!
Nowrosjee Wadia College
As we enter Wadia
All the same, Pune will always be Poona for some of us. I was the mid-teen college fresher experiencing the look and feel of elections and power of activism in College. Music festivals and Jam-Sessions. Debates and dramatics. MS was in Poona as well, but at the other end of the spectrum, he was the rock-star instructor at NDA, and moreover paint the town red kind of bachelor.
Our path must have crossed, but we never met.
Ladies Hostel Wadia Colleges
He used to come to pick up his girl-friend or perhaps girlfriends, from our hostel, and as irrepressible teens that we were, true to form responded with cat-calls and lucid comments. Perhaps, with unadulterated mischief on our mind, we once deflated the bikes while they waited for their BEG River Dance dates.
I wonder if he was one of them?
Did I not tell you that our world just got smaller.
Kamlings @ Esat Street
West-End Cinema
With so much on mind Poona for us was limited to Wadia College campus, Ladies hostel and Railway station as the central focus, with Main Street, West-end and Empire theatres on the Camp side. This was our retreat to Hollywood, with latest releases. We had no bourgeoisie preferences, we could take any seat any row we could afford. Changez Khan was a wide angle cinemascope production, and we saw it from the very first front row. That was an unforgettable experience, with horses thundering across the screen from extreme left to right and vice-versa, with our necks in sync to the galloping thuds and reverberating background score.
True to campus trends, the senior boys of Wadia plagued us, the new freshers on the campus. But once out in town they were our Sir Galahad's and would pick up bloodied noses. Those were the days of the ongoing college rivalry. In those days Wadia was the happening cosmopolitan place and Fergusson the other end of the spectrum, and never the twain could meet.
The Wadia Mini-Reunion with the Boys
Bund Gardens was our affordable and hip Foodie retreat on the Koregaon axis. A very special college haunt on the bank of the rivers Mula & Mutha was a little Food shack run by an adorable Goan couple whom we fondly called Aunty Martha & Uncle Gomez. 
Uncle never served us Beer or 'Feni' even if we implored, though he did place Mangola in front of us with a dark look. But Aunty Martha's Prawn Balchao and Pork Vindaloo were another story. They were the best I have had so far. 
.
The Bund Gardens were financed by the businessman and philanthropist Sir Jamsetjee Jeejeebhoy around mid-1850.
So, it is back to the present and 23rd NDA Reunion @ Poona, from 23rd to 25th Feb 2019.
With a little bit of forward thinking, I comfortably appended a prefix and suffix dates to create a niche for ‘Me’ time and my own meet-ups to resurrect bonds with childhood classmates and friends or as French would say ‘ressusciter des liens’. The ‘TOP & TAIL’ was mine to plan.
We were Kindergarten buddies
From the moment of landing at Lohegaon, it was my day plus. It was my ‘top’ end of the deal to spend with my childhood friend, Shikha. There is nothing like meeting a childhood friend after almost half a century. Those were in the late ’50s and we were a band of bratty little people-The Liliputian’s of Cantonments, all kids of men in ‘Olive Green’, with unswerving tribal loyalties to each other.
I don't know but would imagine that these attachments for each other ran deep and true, for this was truly who we were before we grew up and before the time and age began to change us.
Their 23rd-course training was cut short by six months from IMA as a necessity that arose from the political faux-pax that led to 1962 debacle on China border. As a matter of precedence, many cadets are co-opted by the fraternal obligations by many illustrious regiments, quite akin to corporate head-hunters. My husband was channelled on towards 'The Brigade of the Guards'. He went on to be a part of a fledgeling new raising, the 7th Guards in 1963. The Battalion within weeks drew the first blood in Nagaland. At the helm of this advance Patrol duty was a young captain who also earned his baptism under fire in a Naga rebel ambush.
However, on flip-side, we were a few 23rd NDA-Spice girls, who had childhood and College connects with Poona.
It is a small world.
That is not all, the world does get smaller.
Nowrosjee Wadia College
 |
| As we enter Wadia |
Our path must have crossed, but we never met.
I wonder if he was one of them?
 |
| West-End Cinema |
 |
The Wadia Mini-Reunion with the Boys
Bund Gardens was our affordable and hip Foodie retreat on the Koregaon axis. A very special college haunt on the bank of the rivers Mula & Mutha was a little Food shack run by an adorable Goan couple whom we fondly called Aunty Martha & Uncle Gomez.
With a little bit of forward thinking, I comfortably appended a prefix and suffix dates to create a niche for ‘Me’ time and my own meet-ups to resurrect bonds with childhood classmates and friends or as French would say ‘ressusciter des liens’. The ‘TOP & TAIL’ was mine to plan.
From the moment of landing at Lohegaon, it was my day plus. It was my ‘top’ end of the deal to spend with my childhood friend, Shikha. There is nothing like meeting a childhood friend after almost half a century. Those were in the late ’50s and we were a band of bratty little people-The Liliputian’s of Cantonments, all kids of men in ‘Olive Green’, with unswerving tribal loyalties to each other.
Once I attended a lecture with Dr Molly Cloutermine, Human Development and Family Studies Yale Professor in 2002, according to her studies she surmised that these childhood connections imprint an extraordinary impact and have a significant role in the development process as lifelong support networks are easily made in kindergarten and they promote early learning.
The moot point is, as to what happens when we meet again after decades….
Sometimes it is magic!
23rd NDA Reunion as per schedule, clocked in at Mid-day 23rd Feb 2019. The troupers came trooping in. Mostly in twos and some in ones over the afternoon. The Aviators. The Gunners. The Mechies and the Techies. The Shippies and the Submariners. They came across pan India from far and near. They came by air; they came by rail and by road for the annual 23rd jamboree.
By a flick of a wand, I saw the persona of these crabby old guys, all septuagenarians, change. It was a ‘wow’ factor. They had in snap become youthful, shoulders squared, tummy tuck visible and beaming boyish smile with an aura of somewhat devil may care attitude, you could say.
The hotel being a boutique hotel was small, thus we had taken over 90% of their occupancy, spread up and down five floors. Tongue in cheek we ribbed with a chuckle …as per the standards of living guys. Ours was the 5th floor.
Accordingly, The evening began with sedate propriety but then by the minute, the decibel levels rose in the confined space of the party place amidst whoops and roars at the Welcome Dinner. The spirit buoyancy, pun unintended, appropriately set the mood for coming days of the Reunion and momentous it was for this mixed bag of the gleeful geriatric veteran
The hotel being a boutique hotel was small, thus we had taken over 90% of their occupancy, spread up and down five floors. Tongue in cheek we ribbed with a chuckle …as per the standards of living guys. Ours was the 5th floor.
The hard work of Partho and Team Poona paid a dividend as it was the rambunctious start to the old soldiers' reunion.
Comments
Post a Comment