Emergence in Time

 

Summer of 1979

It was the summer of 1979 -- perhaps May or June -- when the phone rang at Renu Villa. Back then, it was a big black landline phone with a rotary dial from Calcutta Telephones, because BSNL didn’t exist yet and cellphones were still firmly ensconced in science fiction novels. We were a dozen people living together in one large, semi-joint family, and there was one phone for all of us -- a privilege in those days, since not many homes had a phone at all. Ours sat on its own special marble table on the first floor, while I lived with my parents on the second. A buzzer, installed by my enterprising father and operated by one of my aunts, summoned me downstairs. I was told that Fr Hincq, SJ, from St. Xavier's, was calling for me.

Fr Hincq was the Principal -- or perhaps the Headmaster? -- of the St. Xavier's Higher Secondary Institution, which was sandwiched both physically and metaphorically between St. Xavier's College and the Collegiate School, from which I had passed my ICSE just a year earlier. He had been especially kind to me ever since he learned that I had been called for the NCERT National Talent Scholarship interview. This stood in sharp contrast to the more well-known Fr Bouche, the famous prefect of SXCS, who had brusquely denied me the annual prize in my final year, simply because I would be away on a family tour of Gujarat. That decision had stung -- I had won a prize every other year -- but Fr Hincq went out of his way to welcome me. In fact, he waived the usual entrance examination so I could attend the NTS interview.

The NTS itself was a story worth telling. My father, Subhrendu Mukerjee, frequently traveled to Delhi on business and brought back science textbooks from the bookshops of Daryaganj -- texts aligned with the NCERT/CBSE syllabus -- to supplement my ICSE materials. These were invaluable during the NTS exam, which was also conducted by NCERT. I qualified for the interview, held at Jadavpur University, and breezed through nearly every question -- except the last one. I was asked what kind of bond was used in hydrocarbons like methane. The question stumped me briefly. After thinking it through, I hazarded a guess: covalent bond. It turned out to be the correct answer. That single word earned me the scholarship -- Rs 200 per month for the next six years.

Back at St. Xavier’s, Fr Hincq also taught us English. From him, I learned something that would serve me well many years later, when I began writing fiction: that beyond plot, an author must vividly describe both characters and settings, so that readers can almost physically sense the world being built. But at that time, my interest lay firmly in science and mathematics, subjects in which I was comfortably ahead of the class. If not for my dismal marks in Bengali -- even after my father hired a tutor, the only one I ever had -- I would likely have topped Class XI. Instead, the well known darling of the "Bengal Board" crowd edged me out by a mark or two. It didn’t matter in the long run, but it rankled.

Even as I explored the mysteries and marvels of science and mathematics -- and consistently topped these subjects -- something else was stirring on the horizon. I had dropped biology, since medicine never interested me, and opted for "Advanced" Physics, Algebra, and -- if I remember correctly -- 3D Coordinate Geometry. Calculus was scheduled for Class XII, but I had already begun studying it on my own using a Mir Publishers book from Russia. My real passion had been ignited by the two volumes of Perelman's Physics for Entertainment, also from Mir. I was, by then, thoroughly immersed in the sciences.

It was around this time that a classmate, Jaideep Sarkar, mentioned something called Agrawal Classes -- a coaching institute in Bombay that helped students prepare for the formidable IIT Joint Entrance Examination. I was already familiar with the IITs and had even visited the one at Kharagpur, where my cousin Piku-da studied. Around then, I discovered a few critical facts. Bengal had transitioned from the 11+5 to the 10+2+3 model, so after Class X, I was now in the first year of the +2 stage -- Class XI. But some states still followed the older system. More significantly, the IITs hadn’t yet shifted from their 5-year undergraduate program to the 4-year version we see today. This meant it was possible to enter IIT after Class XI, without a Higher Secondary pass certificate. While those who completed Class XII could attempt to join directly in the second year, they had to clear an additional, extremely difficult Joint Advanced Test.

This opened up a possibility: if I could gain admission to IIT after Class XI, I could skip a year of schooling -- and with it, my struggle with Bengali and the well-meaning tutor. But getting into IIT was no small feat. Even then, about 40,000 candidates -- mostly Class XII students -- competed for roughly 1,000 seats across the five IITs. The competition was fierce. That’s where Agrawal Classes offered a lifeline.

The institute, based in Bombay, had just launched a postal coaching program. Every two weeks, they mailed out cyclostyled study material along with question papers. Yes -- by daak, or snail mail. Students were expected to solve the papers and mail them back for correction, and the evaluated copies would be returned in due course. This led to a constant flurry of parcels going back and forth. In addition, there were two in-person "doubt-clearing" sessions, with teachers -- either from Bombay or Calcutta -- meeting students at a rented venue. It suited me perfectly. I eagerly awaited each batch of materials and returned my answers promptly -- so promptly, I later learned, that I was among the fastest responders. Much later, I also discovered that Raghuram Rajan -- who would go on to become the Governor of the Reserve Bank of India -- was in that same batch.

Armed with this extra firepower, I appeared for the IIT JEE 1979. I did quite well in English and Chemistry, but Physics and Mathematics felt like a disaster. I was convinced I wouldn’t make the cut and mentally prepared myself for another year of school, Bengali tutor and all.

The IIT Kharagpur office was on Camac Street, just a short walk from St. Xavier's College, where Fr Hincq resided. It was also on the route he took for his morning walks. In those days, results were only posted on notice boards. When the JEE 1979 results came out, Fr Hincq was the first to see them -- probably put up the evening before. The next morning, he walked back to the college and called me on our rotary phone -- I still remember the number: 46-1697, listed in the college records.

He told me I had not only cleared the exam, but had ranked an astonishing 9th in the Eastern Region and 39th nationally.