Vinay Kumar Mahajan seldom wrote his surname; he preferred to be identified by his first name, just like the cinematic idols of his youth, Rajendra Kumar and Dilip Kumar. But to his classmates at GMC Nagpur, he was always “Kashmiri”—a living link to the natural beauty of the Bhadarwah valley, the “mini-Kashmir” of his birth. He was a quiet, serene, and well-behaved student who didn’t indulge in the rowdy “masti” of the hostel, but instead focused on a career that would take him from the Himalayan foothills to the coastal heat of Chennai.
The Quiet Anchor of Room 9
Vinay was born in Bhadarwah, in the Doda district of Jammu and Kashmir. He would spend hours describing the foothills of the Himalayas to his group—Arvind Dani, Surendra Bhandarkar, and Ravindra Jharia—who gathered in Room 9 of Hostel 2. This group was his “adda,” a space of shared study and silence.
After graduation, he accompanied Omprakash Agrawal for a rural internship in Arni, before returning to Srinagar Medical College to complete his urban training. This move represents the “rural-urban migration” of the era, but also a personal journey back to his roots. However, the path of medicine is rarely a straight line. Vinay eventually joined Manipal Medical College to obtain his Diploma in Ophthalmology (DOMS).
It was at Manipal that he met Meenakshi, a postgraduate from Chennai. Their meeting was a moment of national integration—the boy from the Doda mountains marrying the girl from the southern coast.
The Timeless Bond of Wadi
Vinay settled in Chennai, but his connection to the “timeless and priceless” friendships of Nagpur remained. In 1998, he made a surprise appearance at Ravindra Jharia’s clinic in Wadi, Nagpur. It was the first time they had met in twenty years, and they talked until the “wee hours,” catching up on the stories that had shaped their lives.
As he went back that night, I realized that while we all have changed, a part of us has remained the same. Friendships are indeed timeless and priceless.
This realization reflects the central tension of the GMC 1973 batch: the dispersal across the globe vs. the persistence of the original bond. Vinay represents the quiet member of the batch who remains a vital part of its collective soul.
The Kashmiri in Chennai
Today, “Kashmiri” Vinay Kumar Mahajan lives in Chennai. He did not seek the “page 3” fame of some of his classmates, but instead built a life of professional stability and personal contentment. He remains the “well-behaved” student of the 1970s, a man who has preserved the serenity of the Bhadarwah valley in his own character.
His life completes a circle that began in the Doda district: the boy who described mini-Kashmir to his friends in a hot Nagpur hostel room has found his final home by the sea, carrying with him the “rose-colored anecdotes” of a youth spent in Ward 23. He is the proof that even in the busiest city, a part of the person remains the same, anchored by the camaraderie of the GMC days.