Chaudhari Chacha

 "Idhar nahi karne ka, log dar jayega!" Chaudhari Chacha admonished me and my friend for letting our desires run wild outside the hospital OPD. Onlookers gave us disgusting looks. Some stood transfixed, cursing our audacious ways. Others giggled, and threw intermittent glances from the IPD above. With quite a few, it was, "Mera number kab aayega?" look. But none's intestines had the musculature to shoo us away, except the self appointed  moral police of the medical college, Chaudhari Chacha! 

"Chacha, viva hai. Practice karne dona. Halka lagega!" I requested him with folded hands. 

"Idhar nahi, patient log darneka! Common room mein jao. Chalo, bhago!" Common room was common to girls applying lips to their pouts, some others gossiping about the new lecturer in campus, few enjoying their unrestricted afternoon seistas and many bustling out of this overtly feminine room. 

With no respite from Chacha, we picked up the objects of our fondling but not without pointing out a humerus at chacha, "Shamko wapis aayenge. Idhar hi khopdi ke bones ratta marenge." Before his kopdi went on a swirl, we ran carrying the bone set into unknown territories. 

Chaudhari Chacha was the elite watchman of my Homoeopathic college. From when he was here, he himself couldn't define. When probbed a lot, he revealed, "Bade Goel sahab ne mujhe rakha tha!" (A timeless principal and now a star in the galaxy.) Appointed by the senior Dr. Goel, chacha roamed the campus with the air of a brigadier. From the classrooms to the hospital, his range enveloped the campus in a protective gaze. Students, teachers, doctors and regular patients, all called him Chacha. Till date, I don't know what his real name was. Forget humans, the cadavers too admired his patrolling. When a body used to arrive at the gate(meant for dissection), he used to announce excitedly to the new batch, "Fresh maal aaya hai. Ache se padhai karo!"

On occasions, he clicked photos with the rowdy boys and befriended them to walk straight. During college fests, he sneaked in the auditorium and cheered with child like glee. In the evenings, he made it a point to congratulate the performers personally. Stained teeth, frizzy hair and a bubbly enthusiasm, not a single student could dislike Chacha or get offended by his, "Bhag jao idhar se."

With his bambaiya hindi, he seemed to be the hearthrob of bihari film industry. Loud music would be heard from his cabin, with a meditative  Chacha, nodding in amusement. His verdict on the mood of the examiner would be like a loghorn during the foggy examination weather. 

"Aaj Sonal mam bahot bhadkela hai. Heart karke jao. Sabko heart hi puch rahe hai." Or sometimes, "Nanabhai ko patana easy nahi hai. Unke sath trek pe jao. Physio mein full marks."

Where he got such wisdom from, don't know. But the akashwani never failed. 

Few days back, got to know now he is retired. I can now go and complete my bone set study in peace. No one will shove off an adult sitting on the marble verandah talking to skeletons. But it will be no fun. Absolute grumpiness to visit college and not find Chacha around. 

When I read of molestation cases by watchmen, I wonder which planet had Chacha arrived from. Maybe they don't make such security guards anymore. Security guards, a term far evolved than watchman. Yet, Chacha not only watched but also provided that security and safety, without being shady or gawky. 

Don't cry, for Chacha would say, "Idhar nahi karne ka, log dar jayega!"