I was walking along Southampton Row heading for the hostel when I saw a face I knew. I had seen the face before but couldn’t figure out precisely where. Like a croupier’s dice, it was revolving in my head till it found a slot.
While I was trying to get a seat in GMC (Grant Medical College) in June 1946, I visited the place daily and climbed the circular stairs in the administrative building to see the list of successful candidates on the first floor, outside the principal’s office.
Along the stairs, there were photos of GMC sports teams and this man featured in a few of them. I had never met the man, but had heard in the mess in GMC that he had travelled to Britain for his FRCS and had already bagged his Primary. When I came face to face with him, I wanted to seek his help and accosted him. “Excuse me, but are you by any chance Mr Joshipura?”
He was obviously flattered that despite his highly anglicised image, including a bowler hat and the ubiquitous umbrella, I had recognised him and he replied. “Indeed I am.”
I introduced myself, poured out my sorrows and added. “I was told in GMC before I left that there are many Casualty Officers’ posts available here but don’t know how to about go about getting one.”
“Let us go back to the College and I will show you how to apply; the Royal College of Surgeons is just round the corner in Lincoln’s Inn Fields.” He replied. As I entered the College, I was overawed and felt that I was entering a shrine. Dr Joshipura led me to the library on the first floor. Pointing to the rack where the journals were lying, he whispered.
“Pick up the latest BMJ and go to the last few pages where all junior hospital jobs are advertised.”
He was obviously referring to the British Medical Journal and added.
“Apply for all casualty jobs because they are easy to get since the ‘natives’ are not interested in them and they are mandatory for Fellowship. Write the application in your handwriting, giving your name, age, when and where you obtained your MBBS; mention that you are seeking a casualty job because you are here to obtain your FRCS.”
He continued. “I will be back soon and then we will go into a secretarial bureau in Holborn to get your application and testimonials cyclostyled. There is a post-office nearby from where we can post them.”
He returned after an hour. I had identified 22 casualty jobs and we posted applications to all the hospitals looking for a Casualty Officer. At the end of a productive afternoon, Dr Joshipura said to me. ”We now keep our fingers crossed and wait.” As I was deciphering his idiomatic phrase, he added. “Let’s go back to the College. The oral Primary examination is being held there right now and the results will be announced soon. Dr Baichwal, a friend, is appearing and I promised to be with him when the results are announced.” Then looking directly at me he continued. “You must know him because he was Khwaja’s houseman.”
“Yes, I know him; we worked together as house-surgeons,” I replied.
In the College hall, I met Dr Baichwal in a crowd of anxious looking candidates. Naturally he was too worried to greet me till his number was called by an official carrying a mason who whispered something in his ear. A strong punch in the air with his fist, and we knew that he had passed. He now greeted me ‘properly’ and invited me to join them in the celebration. My first night in London was thus stress-free and I enjoyed the meal at Salad-Bowl.
As for my applications for a job, I waited for a response from the hospitals I had applied. And to my pleasure, they started arriving from the third day onwards.
Maidenhead Hospital wanted to interview me at midday the next day. I showed it to Dr Baichwal when he came to take me out to see the sights of London, as promised on the evening, when we celebrated together. “I am on leave now for a week and we can paint the city red,” he had told me. After seeing the letter from Maidenhead, he said: “It’s a lovely place by River Thames, half an hour from Paddington by a surface train and I can take you there.”
The next day, he came late and we reached Maidenhead Hospital at half past twelve. I ran all the way to the hospital and was greeted by the porter at the hospital entrance. ”You are late laddie, but I think they are waiting for you,” he said.
He took me to Mrs Godfrey, the Hospital Secretary’s office. She was a kind looking middle aged lady. As I was standing inside her office, apologising for being late, she put me at ease by offering me a seat. She introduced the two gentlemen.
“On my right is Mr Arden and on my left is Mr Herschell, our orthopaedic surgeons, in charge of Casualty.”
They asked me a few questions of general nature and did not ask for the original certificates and testimonials which I had brought with me. They sent me out to wait with the other two candidates. A few minutes later, Mrs Godfrey came out and said. “Will Dr. Kod…… step in my office?” A wink from Dr Baichwal conveyed what it meant. I was offered the job and asked when I could start. It was on the tip of my tongue to say, ”right now,” when Mr. Arden explained. “The incumbent CO left suddenly, so can you start next Monday?”
“Fine.” I said. Then Mrs Godfrey said. “You can collect your travel expenses now as you pass the Finance Office or they can be added to your first month’s salary.”
I wasn’t taking any chances and collected it on my way out!
