Memories of Bhavnagar By :Yogesh Goradia These are some of the memories of my seventy four years of association with Bhavnagar. Although I left Bhanvnagar in 1956 at a tender age of 18, I have visited there often since, perhaps twenty times. Every time it has enriched me with new experiences, new memories, some superimposed on the old ones. However, I must say at the outset that these memories are by their very nature somewhat biographical as well so please forgive me if at times they sound too personal. I also want to point out that Bhavnagar and Gharshala are intertwined and inseparable in my mind as after all Gharshala has been an essential part of who I am. મેં મારા જીવનનું ભાથુ ઘરશાળા માંથી બાંધ્યું છે. એ તો કેમ ભુલાય! I think I was about seven years old when our head master Shree Bhanubhai announced that we were going to have a very distinguished guest on a particular day so we should all dress appropriately and behave ourselves on that occasion. Well, that day came and the guest was, to our surprise, none other than Maharaja Shri Krishnkumarsinhji himself who held a small sammelan with us and told us we should all be proud of living in his rajya. I still remember that his Gujarati was pure gamthi (He was educated in England) but very endearing indeed. It simply demonstrated his love for children and his desire to be with his praja. For me, this was my first indirect association with Bhavnagar and a very memorable one. Two years later, in 1947, my family moved to Bhavnagar for good and all the five children of our family - Manjula, Hansa , Aruna, myself and our kid brother Kirit—enrolled in Gharshala. Then, within three months we moved into Panchvati, a two story bungalow just around the corner from Parimal. It so happened, by sheer coincidence, that Gharshala’s founder Shree Harbhai had lived there for years so it in a way linked me to Gharshala, not by design but by pure luck! Soon, India was to gain independence from the British and we had the first flag hoisting on the 15th of August,1947 in the foreground of the school. If my memory is correct, and this I am not so sure of, the distinguished guest speaker was India’s rashtrakavi, as Gandhiji had named him, Shri Zaverchand Meghani. I still feel so emotional and proud about that day when India, after years of struggle and sacrifices, had freed itself from the shackles of a century and a half of British rule. We could feel Meghani’s “રક્ત ટપકતી સો સો ઝોળી સમરાંગણથી આવે” in the air. Indeed, my maternal side of the family, as countless others across the country, had been ardent admirers and followers of Gandhiji. My nani had burned all her mill-woven sarees and taken up rantio (spinning wheel) to make khadi clothes for the family. This, she continued, long after independence until she was in her nineties! So, independence was not simply a political affair, it had permeated every aspect of our lives. I still remember that fateful evening of January 30, 1948. I was in the sixth standard. My friend Ashok and I were playing at his home when we heard the news on the radio that Gandhiji had been assassinated. I immediately ran over to my house (two minutes away) to inform my mother. We all sat in the living room, glued to All India radio.The whole of India was in deep shock and sorrow. In the early morning hours the radio was playing…vaishnav jan to tene re kahiye.…The next day, Pandit Nehru while paying a tribute to him said ”who do we run to for advice now that our beloved Bapu is no more?”. India had lost the man who was singularly responsible for bringing independence to its masses. His four hundred million people called him Bapu, the world called him the Mahatma.For indeed Gandhi was India.When he spoke, the whole of India listened. He brought down a mighty empire not by using military force but by sheer virtue of moral force.He had carried out the largest social and political experiment known to mankind using nonviolence and civil disobedience. Even though I was not grown up yet to fully understand the impact of his death, this event left me with a lasting impression that a great man had passed away. He was larger than life with so many facets interwoven into a simple but extremely complex personality.In my humble opinion, he was the greatest man ever lived on this planet I joined Gharshala in 1947 when I was nine and left in 1953 upon passing the SSCE. Six years does not sound like a long one but I consider those years as the most significant in my life. All five of us - my siblings and I attended Gharshala and, I am happy to say, we found three of our life partners from Gharshala as well so we have a very special bond with that school. It was a place where I would hang out till it got dark. We would play volleyball, then sit around and chat, chat, chat…nobody wanted to go home! We attended sammelan every morning during which we listened to music, gathered news about the school, aired our grievances and heard special guest speakers. I established, and edited, the first weekly, handwritten, one legal sheet long publication called “The Nagrik” that I would post on the bulletin board in the lobby. I, along with a few other students, drafted the first constitution of the school with the counsel of our principal Shri Maheshbhai. And, it was in Gharshala where I met a beautiful girl named Ranjan who was the co-editor of The Nagrik.In my days, a boy could not stare at a girl without being called a "bad character”, let alone hold her hand. That simply wasn’t allowed! In spite of that, and even though I was only 14 and she was just 12, we developed strong feelings for each other that I carried with me to America. So four years later I came back to marry her in 1960! She has been my sweetheart and life partner ever since. I have travelled extensively through America and have lived here for 68 years now, in many different parts of the country.I have taught in American universities and visited many schools. I can say with confidence that I have never seen a school like Gharshala here in the United States.When I think of Gharshala, I think of its dedicated teachers; its unique education system based upon free thinking; the interaction it provided between teachers and students; and the many activities and classes it offered including dance, drama, painting, music, etc.It was our second home.It was where we formed life-long friendships.It is where our roots are. Now I must mention an incident that has played a very important role in my life. I was just 15 and in my last year of school when our principal Maheshbhai approached me with a proposal that I should enter an essay contest that was being sponsored by a United States education agency.It was a nationwide competition of selected high school candidates.The best essay winner would get to spend six months in the United States at a certain high school.Although it was an exciting opportunity, the problem for me was(1) I did not have a good command over English to be able to write an essay (2) the subject matter of the essay would only be announced on the day and time of the contest so there was no way to prepare for this.An elderly friend suggested that I read Nehru’s The Discovery of India since he thought the subject would have something to do with India. When the time came, Maheshbhai opened the envelope he had received by mail. The subject was “The structure and functioning of the United Nations”. I sat there for half an hour, totally blanked out staring at the envelope.Then confessed to Maheshbhai: even though I had heard about the United Nations, I just had no idea what it was so I would have to give up. To console me, he said he himself didn’t know much about the subject either! So it all ended in a big disappointment for me at the time which, given my nature, it was hard for me to accept.You see, from childhood, my mother had ingrained in me to never fail, and if I ever failed, use that failure as the first step to success. So I turned that disappointment into a positive force and just three years later, at a tender age of 18, I landed on the shore of New York! (How this happened is a long story that I will skip for now). One other positive outcome that I must mention was that I learned a lot about Pandit Nehru while preparing for the contest. In the succeeding years I read all his books. I have admired him as one of the greatest thinkers, philosophers, historians and the statesmen India and the world has ever produced.To this day, he forms an essential part of my outlook on life which has guided me through the years.To the younger generation I strongly recommend that you read Chapter 7 of his Autobiography titled “My philosophy of life”. Soon after I moved to Bhavnagar, there was a huge influx of Sindhis who were fleeing from the newly created Pakistan as a result of the partition. Being a patriot that I was, I enrolled into the Youth Brigade and was assigned a night duty to stand guard at one of the camp sites in the outskirts of Bhavnagar. To be honest, I was as scared as the refugees, being only 9 years old, thin, lean and so diminutive. But I managed to serve the required three months and received a certificate of Deshsevak!. Unlike many refugees, the Sindhis were hard working, industrious and blended into our society like sugar in milk. One of their remarkable traits was every member of their family worked to earn whatever they could, they never, ever would beg. They quickly integrated into our Gujarati society and culture. Even my sister Hansaben had a Sindhi friend named Shivaram whom we all liked so very much. At a tender age of 11, it was my responsibility to go to the bazaar almost every day and buy the daily necessities. As such, I routinely visited the Shak market, Dana bazar, Vora bazar, and many specialty shops up and down the main drag and in the small, narrow alleys. I suppose one of the most distinguished landmarks in Bhavnagar is the theatre in the main chawk of the bazaar.In my days it was called Natraj, then a few years later its name changed to Rupam. I used to hang out there with my friends, eating panipuri, patis, dahiwada from a vendor, then enjoying a cold drink from J.B. Mangharam. There I would sometimes run into our principal Maheshbhai who was sure to buy me a pan that he himself enjoyed chewing. Inevitably, we would chat about the school as though we were classmates.Those moments are so deeply etched into my mind,my eyes are swelling up with tears even as I am writing this since he is no more.Then there was that Liludi bhelwalo who would make the tastiest bhel in the world out on the sidewalk in front of his tiny shop off the road from Kalanala to the bazaar as the horrible exhaust fumes of the diesel engines of the passing cars, trucks and busses added a distinct, unmatched flavour to it! We were so carefree, nothing mattered. One of the historical places I remember is the Barton Library.At an early age of 12, I got interested in our Gujarati literature (My mother, with only 4th standard education, was an avid reader of Gujarati literature). Not having enough money to buy books, my main source for books was that library.I would ride my bike a couple times a week to the library, a stretch of about 4 km, and borrow 4/5 books.The authors I remember off the top of my head were V.S. Khandekar, Kaka Kalelkar, Dhumketu, Zaverchand Meghani, Umashankar Joshi, Kalapi, Kanaiyalal Munshi, R.V. Desai, Rabindranath Tagore, Jawaharlal Nehru, Gandhiji, Mahadev Desai, Maithilisharan Gupta, Vivekananda.These readings laid the foundation upon which I have built and lived my life. They taught me about human relationships, character building and broadened my awareness of the world around me.Later on, attending college at the Sir P.P. Institute I got interested in English literature and read Shakespeare, Shelly, Byron, Wordsworth, Longfellow, Keats, Jane Austin,Guy de Mopassant, Albert Shweitzer, Tolstoy, Albert Einstein and many others. In fact, I was so consumed with reading that I skipped most classes, spending entire days up on the terrace where the college library was.As a result, I received a rebuke from Principal Sandil who called me in his office threatening to withhold permission to appear in the Prelim.The only thing that kept me in his grace was that I was first class first in the first year (I had skipped classes that year as well!) so I promised him I would increase the college rating in the Inter Science Board exam too. Indeed, I broke the record achieving Distinction First in the Gujarat University which later earned compliments from Prof Sandil , “I knew you would not let me down.” (This story continues adding a twist to my coming to America). Thus, this beautiful library has contributed so much to my life. Years later on a visit, I literally wept when I saw its dilapidated condition.The entire library had not a single soul inside! It stood alone and neglected like a ghost.The book shelves and magazine racks were empty. The beautiful cabinets full of books were collecting dust with cobwebs all over.It was like a beautiful woman whose saree had been pulled off and torn to pieces.In the next few days, I managed to find out who were running it and offered to help with its modernization so we could bring back the readership.But that got nowhere.Now I understand it has regained its life and is once again a bustling place. While talking about the library I can’t help but remember a beautiful person whom I came to know and admire. See, on the way to the library, sometimes I would hear music streaming from the third floor of a building as I would ride my bike through the narrow street lined with old buildings.So one day I pulled over and ventured to go up the narrow staircase to the third floor. It was a beautiful sight to see a tall, young man, maybe in his 40’s, standing in the centre of a large room playing a violin and surrounded by a guitarist, a sitarist, a harmonium player, a tabla player and a singer.I simply sat down near the entrance. He smiled at me as though we had known each other for years. It was an infectious smile, sweet and gentle.His name was Jagdeep Virani.He was an engineer by education but his interest was music.He was running a music studio called Saptkala.He was also a poet and a singer besides being able to play and teach many stringed instruments.From then on I would drop in many times just to hear that magical music. Even though I was much younger than him, we became good friends. With me in mind, he wrote a beautiful song tame aavo ne mare aangne. A few years after leaving for the States, I learned that he had passed away at a relatively young age.Thinking of him even now I can still hear his beautiful voice accompanied by violin….Chunddi lavo rang lal ni rang avi raaj…Lila ter angna popat mukavjo, pila galgota gunthavjo rangavi raaj…. I would be amiss if I did not mention a historical fact about the Maharaja of Bhavnagar. As the British had finally decided to leave India and Gandhiji had reluctantly agreed to accept the partitioning of it, Gandhiji put into motion the task of forming the union of some 550 kingdoms that constituted India at the time.The British India Treaty signed by India, Pakistan and Great Britain called for each of the 550 maharajas (not their praja) to decide whether to join India or Pakistan. So essentially there would be 550 votes that would carve out the two countries from the 550 kingdoms.Gandhiji assigned the task to Vallabhbhai Patel in 1946 that he should go around the country to persuade each maharaja to join India.The first on his list was Bhavnagar, since Krishnakumarsinhji had been an admirer of Gandhiji and very supportive of India’s struggle for independence.However, the question was how much he would ask (saliyanu) in exchange for giving up his entire kingdom to India. As Vallabhbhai arrived he asked the maharaja this question.The maharaja, as if he had been expecting this question, immediately replied: “બાપુ ને કહેજો કે મને એક રૂપિયો જ જોઈએ છે, મારું રાજ ભારત માતાનું જ છે…” Vallabhbhai was flabbergasted to hear this unexpected gesture of generosity! That was our maharaja who gave up his entire kingdom for just one rupee! (I have heard this story from a historian so I stand corrected for any errors). After leaving Bhavnagar 68 years ago, I have visited there many, many times.Each time I saw some changes as it is inevitable. In my days, its population was initially about 1 lakh, then grew close to 1.5 lakhs as we assimilated those who migrated from the newly formed Pakistan. At present I believe it may be 15 lakhs in the sphere of influence.The country as a whole has grown from 400 million to 1.3 billion and remains one of the most densely populated regions in the world. With growth comes change.Change is called living.If we cease to change,we cease to live. However, for cities to change and grow, there must be planning. Bhavnagar, unfortunately has failed in this respect.Its growth has been random, haphazard. For this to have happened in this day and age when it could have been learned from many beautifully planned cities is inexcusable.It is the responsibility of those in city government to understand the various elements of planning—residential, commercial, industrial, civic, recreational, educational, and infrastructure. How to segregate these on the one hand and integrate these on the other hand is a challenge called planning. In terms of its economy, Bhavnagar has seen two major growth factors—Alang ship wrecking industry and diamond cutting. These have created many small businesses and unprecedented demand in housing.Over the years, almost all the bungalows have been demolished and replaced with ugly high rise apartments.Commercial shops are all over the town destroying the residential character of communities.The inner parts of the old town have been left behind in the growth.The proper infrastructure and sanitation is lacking (this, however, is all over India). Here, I am not comparing Bhavnagar to any similar sized town in America; I am rather comparing new Bhavnagar to what it used to be. One of the most disturbing trends I see throughout Gujarat, and Bhavnagar is no exception, is that the education system has become corrupt. Kids have to take private tuition classes in order to pass.In my time, hardly anyone did that. In fact it was considered humiliating if a student was taking private lessons. Now all students are coerced into taking it.This amounts to a parallel unregulated system of education. Kids go from school to private tuition carrying heavy backpacks of textbooks.This is depriving them of free time to grow up and have fun which is what childhood is all about.I remember carrying just a single notebook to school and yet I passed first class.All the educators know about this private tuition system and yet do nothing about it.The solution is to raise the salary of teachers and eliminate this disgraceful system.Offer quality education in schools so kids don’t have to resort to private tuition. As far as I know, no industrialised country has this corrupt system. These are just a few random recollections of my nine years’ association with Bhavnagar. Even though I have spent my entire adult life in the States, I have never forgotten Bhavnagar. It is a part and parcel of who I am.My early years there laid a foundation on which I have built my future years.I salute those of you who are trying to preserve its rich heritage and culture.Out here in Los Angeles, we have over a hundred families from Bhavnagar.We get together once a year and share our memories as well as our present needs and expertise helping each other out.So Bhavnagar lives on in our hearts and minds! Yogesh Goradia B.S (Civil engineering), M.S. (Structural design), M.S. (Physics), Ph.D. (Mathematical Physics)