- Mrs Sabiha Ahmed
When I was asked if I wanted to go to a re-union of old Osmania graduates, I had said yes, while concentrating on my pruning of roses. There were more pressing problems at that moment on my mind, the roses had black spots on their leaves and I needed to tackle them.
The weekend arrived, when we were meant to go to Birmingham. I had to arrange for the cat to be seen to, with my neighbour. Sorted out all the other chores in the house and then decided to pack for my weekend away. Like most Asian women living in this country, I have a wardrobe full of wonderful gaudy sarees, I never get a chance to wear. Evening functions are not that many, in Somerset, and the ones, which I do attend, require may be an elegant shalwar kameez. So I dived reluctantly into the back of my wardrobe and picked some sarees I have not had the chance to wear for some time. I held them up and thought gingerly that perhaps they will be too much for a summer’s evening. I need not have worried!!
We arrived in Birmingham, me trying to read the instructions on how to get to the venue, and my husband trying to find the way to the hotel. Well…you can imagine the situation. And in midst of this the heavens opened. The most torrential rain I have come across, or have been out in, started.
It was hard to see even with wipers going full speed. So there we were, in a tropical rainstorm, in middle of Midlands, hopelessly lost.
After going round the same round about a few times, and a crackly conversation with the hotel, to guide us; we found our way and arrived at the hotel.
Brownhills, the venue was not difficult to find and we arrived in time for registration. And, found out that the time keeping was according to Hyderabad standard time and not the BST we are used to! So there were not many people, and it gave me a chance to get to know the small crowd, and relax a bit.
After a little refreshment, a wash, and a brush up, we joined the partygoers around 7pm. By now, everyone was dressed to kill! I have never been amongst this many doctors before, that too Hyderabadi doctors. I was racking my brains for a collective noun for them, what would you call them? A crowd? A gaggle? Anyone has any creative suggestions?
It is hard to separate a craftsman from his craft; the same is true of hard working doctors who have spent their lives serving the NHS. It is hard to steer them to a general or particular topic, apart from their profession or the stories of their university days. Perhaps that is what, is expected in the old university re-union. I thought I would tackle the thing most common, our children! The thing which most impressed and thrilled me was that everyone had a grand tale to tell about their children. Most of their children were very high achievers; doctors, dentists, accountants and engineers. Among my European friends the achievements of my children are listened to with awe; Oxford graduate in maths and then PhD at Cambridge, and a daughter who was about to finish her medical degree, but here, I was humbled and proud at the same time, all the people I spoke to, had children who have excelled in their field. Was it special to doctors from Hyderabad or was it a general trend among Asians that they had high aspirations for their children and went on to achieve them. It was heartening to know.
The music left a lot to be desired. The volume was too much for the size of the hall. The low ceiling made for very poor acoustics and it was more noise than pleasure.
Though I am not a doctor, and was attending for the first time, everyone took the trouble to come and talk to me, and made me feel at ease.
After living in Somerset, where most of my friends and colleagues are local, it was a very different and refreshing experience to be among so many people from the place of my birth. And though I am a great advocate of integration and assimilation, this was one experience I quite enjoyed, which was segregated and exclusively Hyderabadi.