The Pay-Out Traitor

It was 9^th July 2005. The Pune sky I saw overcast with the monsoon clouds, sent forth infinite drops of the familiar “Pune Piddle”. I was in my car driving upto this college with my dad from Jabalpur via Bangalore. A year before, I had never imagined that I would end up joining the best medical college in the country, for various reasons. However, as I sat reading The DaVinci Code in a reclining seat I knew I had finally arrived. Then, there was no Bhairoba Nala for me, no complications, there I was with me and my future laid out in front of me.

It was in the “Faccha Term” I came to know that for reasons unknown, the autowallahs weren’t familiar with what AFMC was. So was my dilemma as well. And thus we were given advice by our seniors to ask the autowallahs to take us to Bhairoba Nala Police Chowki. It’s an advice which still endures in its authenticity. I still ask the autowallahs to take me to Bhairoba Nala and from there too, straight ahead (they are confused as to whether to go left or straight, mostly scowling upon being asked to go straight).

The autowallahs have remained ignorant but I have not. In the years that went by I have learnt a great deal about this college, its traditions, culture etc. I have followed them, fought for them, had issues with others regarding them and even disregarded some of them. But now, after four and a half years, I can call myself a Kilroy. I have come to love this place as it has been and as it has changed. I don’t regret a bit about what I have done and not done, I believe it was maktub, meaning it was written.

It was my last month there. I had decided that I won’t be joining the Forces. It wasn't my hatred, it wasn't because of the money but it was simply because I had a different dream. And I had been called a traitor, betrayer…had been questioned am I even a worthy AFMCite? It hurts. After sharing four and a half years of everything with my college, I had been labeled a “gaddaar” by those who are too busy warming their chairs in air conditioned offices. What had I done? I had given so much to this place, taken too but never with the intentions of stealing away and I was subjected to this? Many others like me said – “How does it matter?” On appearances it doesn’t but deep inside it does.

Was I running away from responsibility? Was I stealing? People have their priorities. I like most others joined the college because I wanted to become a good doctor. Joining the Forces was an option that was added on when I joined this college. Can’t people just simply understand the simplicity of this fact?

But I am not angry, I am not repulsed; I am just saddened. After so many years I am still led to believe that I am still a newbie. A fresher who is yet to discover what AFMC is. Like that autowallah who still believes in the landmark of the wretched Bhairoba Nala Chowki and who, after spending so much time in that city is yet to know what AFMC stands for. Does it stand for all this? And to mock it all, they still charged me the fee for the Alumni Fund! Ridiculous! Let them live in their little worlds and be happy. I have paid the fee.