Elphinstone College, an imposing stone building near Kala Ghoda, boasted a glittering alumni. New environment, new friends, first co-ed experience. Gaping at pretty girls, but not having the courage to talk to them. Some dressed in smart, colourful salwar kameezes, others in simple sarees. Some boys in designer shirts and trousers, poor me in embarrassing half-pants and half-sleeve shirt, till I could convince my grandfather to allow me to wear trousers.Boys and girls from affluent families would sit during lunch break in the cafeteria of the posh Army & Navy Stores next door (called West Side now). I had no pocket money. All that I and some of my friends could do was to take a round of the store, go upto the cafeteria and wave “hello” to them and return to college to munch on our home-packed sandwiches.Our English language teacher was a saree clad British lady called Mrs Wood. She encouraged me in my theatre activities. We formed a group of boys and girls and went on to win the inter-college drama competition with a comedy called The Cream of Tartar. Suddenly this shy, reserved boy was the toast of the college.Goaded by my aunts and uncles, grandpa started giving us a small sum as pocket allowance. The Army & Navy Stores cafeteria was out of bounds but it was good enough for the India Coffee House, also next door. Aspiring film stars used to hang around there. I recall Dev Anand being a regular.We befriended a Parsi gentleman whose table was always packed with regular cronies, the reason being he used to give hot tips on the possible winners at the following day’s races. Some of us boys got tempted. We made a small pool. With that only one of us would enter, and the rest would be waiting outside. He would place a small bet in the first race as per the tip. If the horse won he would come out cheering and from the winnings all of us would enter the racecourse. It was a new experience in life: huge crowds, each cheering for the horse they had backed. It was fun but more often than not we lost. And I was back pursuing my old love theatre.But those few moments of thrill, excitement, cheering, the sound of the hoofs of the horses as they neared the winning post stayed in my mind and much later in life I became a stand member of the Turf Club. My wife and I would spend an occasional afternoon at the race course, meeting friends, partaking in some delicious snacks and watching the races. My wife’s face at the end of the day would reveal whether we won or lost! But this too stopped when all our weekends got fully booked with theatre shows.Having swallowed one bitter pill — my failure in the matric exam — I never missed a single class in college. Though at the annual college day fishpond my slip read “His studies are his extra-curricular activities”, I passed with flying colours in my Inter Arts exams and got admission in the Government Law College. In those days one could get admission in law college straight after the Inter exams conducted by the Bombay University. Visiting professors included the likes of the eminent jurist Nani Palkhiwala. My classmates included Jangoo Gagrat, the scion of Gagrat & Co, solicitors, and Soli Sorabji who rose to be the Solicitor general of India. I have already covered in an earlier piece my law college journey. Come 1952, I had LLB next to my name.The author is a well-known stage personality.

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