On The Escapade from Speed Residential Course, Mangadu, Chennai (a.k.a Hell on Earth), and another trip to Chandigarh!

(This article was written in profound hast… err, haste… ;) , so it so obviously resembles an English composition. My apologies!  I promise to improve upon it, when time permits. For now, let it serve as a plain decoction of events.)
Last week, having requested a refund of fees paid for Speed Residential course, we were asked to vacate the place, within half an hour of submission of the letter asking for refund. The reason quoted was that on receipt of our letters, the Speed Director had made arrangements for some pending applicants to join immediately and that they'd be coming on the very next morning. We were shocked when the Manager of the Speed Residential hostel at Mangadu, Chennai came into our room within half an hour of the letter, and asked us to vacate immediately. On calling up the Manager of Speed, Mr. Senthil Kanna, he confirmed that we were supposed to move our things and leave immediately. It was then 5:30pm in the evening. In my letter I'd pointed out the reason for leaving, the promises they'd made, and how they had not lived up to any of them.
Aside: Speed is a coaching institute for postgraduate medical entrance test, based in Chennai. FYI, according to the brochure printed by Speed and distributed all over India, we were supposed to be studying in a state of the art facility, with 24 hour AC library, fully furnished rooms, with a gym, tennis court and the rest of the works. What we lived in for the first three months was a dilapidated old cloth mill partially converted into a building inadequate for residence.
For the first month of our course, since the building was not ready, we were accommodated in a facility called World University Service centre, at Egmore, where we had rooms without toilets or plug points, where charging cell phones had to be done in the car park or the reading room in the basement (Yea, of course you had to sit with your phone, unless you were trying to recycle your cell phone!). All this after paying Rs 10,000 a month as room rent for a ‘deluxe’ room. It came to our attention later that the rooms at WUSS cost Rs 50 per day (=Rs 1500 a month).
At the time of paying advance (Rs 39,000) we were told that Deluxe rooms were large suites with contained reading rooms within. It turned out that Deluxe rooms were no different from any other rooms, and all were partially finished rooms, and the entire building was swathed in perpetual cover of dust. We were supposed to have AC rooms, and at the time of shifting to the hostel, we were told that ACs would be fitted in two days. Two months later, ACs have now been fitted, but the last time I called up a friend there, they were still to be switched on, as Speed had yet to arrange for a permanent power supply from the Electricity board!
24 hour Library was just a big hall where though ACs were activated after a month, they were stringently switched off at 9pm on the instructions of the Director. It should not have been dubbed library, because how can a library exist without any books? And I should not be made to comment on the hall where Speed Regular course in Chennai is being conducted! It houses about 1000 people (according to their data) in a single hall (belonging to Surgeons Association of India), and the ACs are never switched on. Well, actually they are switched on before the students arrive, and promptly switched off five minutes after class starts! With the present temperature in Chennai hitting a staggering 40 plus degrees of mercury, it's a wonder no one has ever experienced sunstroke. Well, there's always a first time, I guess! Speed charges Rs 14,850 per person for regular course. That means they get Rs 1,48,50,000 per course (1.48 crores!). After paying a couple or more of lakhs for teachers and employees, one would expect that they'd have enough decency to provide adequate facilities for continuing the class without hospitalizing students.
And classes in Residential course were like training teachers to teach us. I have to admit that Dr Shanmughapriya who teaches Biochemistry in both Regular and Residential course is one of the best teachers in the subject. And the OB/Gyn teacher is also good at her subject. But the rest of the faculty (those who taught till May) were people who seemed to us, to have been chosen for classes because of the sole fact that they lived in and around Chennai. The surgery teacher, Dr A* (name withheld) for instance, after one month's teaching, asked us whether we had negative marks in our exam! That is is the level of knowledge that those teachers had about entrance exams which they were supposed to teach. Another similar teacher was Dr B* (name withheld) in Medicine who'd just passed his Medicine PG exam this year, and started teaching in Speed Residential course. He was totally inadequate in getting his concepts understood by students, and on being asked a doubt about an error in his notes, replied vehemently that the reference text "Harrison's Textbook of Medicine" gave the same facts. A quick check was enough to show that he was wrong. Through class, the Director would sit with us, admonishing and guiding Dr B* while the latter taught. The experience was like participating in a Teachers training programme which I attended in my third year of MBBS.
Coming back to my story, apparently by criticizing them, I'd irked Dr Vinayak Senthil, the Director (and owner, along with his family members). The Director wholeheartedly took the task of kicking us out, with an overwhelming personal vendetta. We weren't planning on staying, we just wanted enough time to pack our things and move. Honestly, wouldn't even a house owner with armed goondas give a sufficient notice before throwing his tenants out? It was later that we learned that the teacher we'd respected so far was nothing more than a businessman.
Normally I'd have stayed and fought for my rights, but I don't know what got into me that day. I didn't want to stay for any more time in their hostel, and packed my things in a heightened frenzy. I sent 190 kg of my books by parcel within an hour, and packed the rest into four large suitcases, along with a table (foldable) and other household items I'd bought from Chennai. Fortunately, my friend's aunt lived in Chennai, and I stayed with him for the night. The next day I tried getting a bus to Trivandrum, but they were all booked out for the week. Obviously, since I'd not booked a train in advance, I was looking at having no means of returning to my home. Honestly, I have to admit that I was stumped. Finally, I decided on getting back in an unreserved general coach of a train, and did just that. It was my first ride in the general compartment, and I found myself packed in with an innumerable number (hmm..that doesn't sound right!) of people, ranging from migrant laborers from Bihar, to beggars. I believe at least 8 people were sitting on the seat which normally accommodates three. The train commenced journey at around 11pm, and somehow I got a few broken hours of sleep.
A lot of thinking had gone into the decision to study in Chennai for a year. Those who were following my tweets might have seen me rambling about comfort zones. Oh, it's just something I read it a book! On returning, it was like every hope had been dashed. Before leaving the hostel, I was under the impression that they'd allow a transfer from Speed Chennai to their centre in Cochin. But Dr Senthil would not allow that. He told me in plain words that he didn't want us informing the Cochin students about the conditions in their Chennai Mangadu Residential course. He would not even refund the regular course fee. Of course at that point I decided that if he didn't want those students to know how we were offered false and empty promises, I would make sure that they knew.  When we became doctors, we swore by the Hippocrates oath (and I believe Dr Senthil did too), whereby we promised to treat fellow doctors with courtesy and respect. It's part of medical ethics. Kicking out someone from a hostel at night is, what I feel is, the rock-bottom of violation of our honorable code of conduct. Apparently to some, it doesn't exist!
Note! The above is a very honest account of the conditions that existed at the Speed Residential Course in Mangadu, Chennai, at the time I joined it in April 2010 along with my friend. They might have improved facilities (or not). My aim was to record a blog, and whatever personal feelings I have, have not colored the facts highlighted. But be sure that before you join any big venture which has implications for your career, you enquire personally, and in detail. Especially if you join a place like Speed, do visit the place and talk to the residents there!
Update.. When the Director had pointblank refused to transfer me to Cochin, I'd left telling him I'd meet him in the Consumer court. When I returned to my home after writing the PGI exam, I found a cheque waiting for me. It was the full refund. Apparently they don't want the world to know about their swindling. So public opinion does count.
Now, let me come back to my trip to Delhi and Chandigarh.. The following was compiled hastily, and I promise to give an enthralling account later! ;)
It was in November last year,that I'd first visited Delhi and Chandigarh. My memories are still fresh with reminiscences from the first time. This visit, however, was a totally different matter altogether, and it was just businesslike (read exams!).
I boarded the aircraft from Chennai. The trip to Delhi was a routine affair. Economy flights are cramped. To get out and to go to the loo, both people sitting next to you have to get up (if you have the side seat. I always do!). And if you're a guy who likes to maintain a healthy homeostasis (fluid balance! Get it?), you do have to get out a number of times. Cabin crew seem so matter-of-fact nowadays. Powdered faces with wanton fleeting smiles don't actually make you comfortable. Once I was in my seat, I wasn't allowed to get out to get my headphones from the luggage rack. So much for Spicejet's on-flight hospitality. I remembered warmly of my last flight on Spicejet in November. I'd even written a recommendation note as feedback about one of their air hostesses. And before you even ask, she wasn't just pretty!! Her hospitality was excellent! ;)
Last time I'd travelled to Delhi alone. This time, however, I travelled with a friend, so it was more fun. After four hours, the plane deserted us in the inhuman Delhi heat. Though we'd decided on getting food from the airport, we couldn't find any food outlets at the exit. Finally, we thought of getting a Metro to the Connaught Place, but finally ended up eating from a food outlet in the Metro station. Our train to Chandigarh was at 3pm, and we'd almost four hours of waiting time at the railway station, which we'd planned on spending in reading at the railway waiting room. The distinguishing feature about the AC waiting room in New Delhi railway station is that there isn't any! Of course, there is a sign directing you to one, but after navigating the busy terminal, we saw a room which its door wide aloft (which meant no AC!). But even worse was the fact that there were at least 100 people crowded in a small room, sitting or sleeping on every square inch, nay, millimeter of space. So that was one plan dashed. We winded up sitting on a bench near the train. I read a little, but was hampered by the severe heat. At the opposite platform, we could see crowds of people pushing each other, all vying for a space on the incoming train. (See photo).
Finally it was 3pm, and time found us carrying bottles of cold water onto the UHL Janshatabdi train. The AC sitting coach was quite comfortable, except for the big (I meant obese!) Punjabi lady who got in at Kurukshetra, and argued with the TTR loudly, disturbing my studies. The coach was packed with PGI candidates (Post Graduate Institute, Chandigarh. Didn't I tell you that the trip was for writing the entrance test for PGI?). The train was delayed by half an hour, but finally at 7pm, we hailed at Chandigarh station. With experience behind me, I confidently went to the bus terminal. But after twenty minutes or so, we couldn't find a bus to our destination. And it was getting late. It was then that we got the help of a Good Samaritan in the form of a girl from Himachal Pradesh. She was trying to get to her hostel, which was on the way to our accommodation. The three of us took an auto to Sector 17, and she was even so helpful as to arrange a rickshaw for us too, even fixing the rates with the driver! It set me thinking that if people from H.P were so helpful, H.P should be a very interesting place indeed. She told us that she was doing her Masters in Pharmacy in Chandigarh, and offered excellent suggestions about all the interesting places to visit in Chandigarh.
After an hour, we reached our boarding at YMCA, Chandigarh. I'm a bit of a planner, hence, though the room at YMCA was one of the most coveted when it came to PG aspirants staying for 'one-nights', we had one of the best rooms, since I'd booked it four months in advance (on the day PGI exams were announced, to be precise). The air-conditioned room had cost Rs 1100 for two people, but it was cozy and roomy enough to house five. And since we'd come in from a Delhi that literally burned, the room was like paradise. I read for a couple of hours. It was then that we saw the news of the air-crash at Mangalore. It was shocking. It was chilling when it hit upon us that we'd been flying from Chennai to Delhi at that time, that the other flight was on its way to Mangalore. It's never wise to read up too late on the eve of an exam, especially if one's in a foreign place. So we slept early.
And I did wake up early too. My friend was late waking up, as usual. After a bath, we had breakfast from a nearby Dhaba. The food was delicious, and we were almost late for the exam. The exam was at 8 this time (It was at 10 last time), and we got there only by 8. I should've gotten there in advance, but actually we were under the mistaken impression that 8 was the time to report at, not the time of commencement of exam. A minute after I got to my place in the room, the bell stated ringing for commencement of the exam. PGI Chandigarh exam itself is tough, and time is just not enough. I rushed through the paper without confidence, and finished it without satisfaction. I hadn't prepared well. But for the last couple of weeks, my studies were hampered by the travel from Speed, and the bundled problems.
The return from Chandigarh to Delhi by bus was tedious. If it weren't for the boys who jumped onto the bus at each junction to sell cold water, I'm sure most of us would have suffered heat-strokes. At the Inter State Bus Terminus at New Delhi, I sent off my friend in a prepaid auto, and took the Metro to Janakpuri. Though I'd stayed in Delhi for only a week last year, it was almost like I knew every place on the way. I didn't have to ask for the way and didn't have any problem bargaining with the cycle-rickshaw-wallas. If it weren't for this special class of workers, travel in Delhi would have been cumbersome indeed.
After staying in Delhi for the night, I took a return flight from IGI Airport. I'd paid for economy, but got executive class by a nice turn of events. Unfortunately, I left my cellphone charger in the flight. After extreme heat in Delhi and Chennai, I returned to find Trivandrum beaming under a heavy monsoon. 

You are reading this post on The Eyrie, Joel’s Blog. For more interesting posts, visit www.eyrie.in for the homepage, or http://blog.eyrie.in to jump directly to the blogs.