I often have no idea how things tend to just "happen" to me. As my friends say, I am a relatively harmless [!] reserved kind of gal, yet as everyone can see "life just seems to just happen".
Throughout my medical school years at University College London, I had the pleasure of meeting some very famous people. Mr Chris Eubank the famous boxer had interrupted my examination of an orthopaedic patient with his entourage. While I was desperately trying to examine the gait and musculoskeletal system, the patient became very distracted with the blonde PA. Hey, didn't anyone care that I had my final exams??
I had to present the case by my observation of the patient" running" towards the blonde PA. Yes, I presented the patient only on observation of him running in slow motion to the blonde. It was interesting to see how fast a male patient can run following the sight of a buxom blonde. Minutes ago he was in bed with his " I am a patient, get me out of here look". It was clear that Chanel No 5 and Loreal hair dye plus accompanying wonderbra was the key to this miraculous recovery. Perhaps it was just his Charnley Hip kicking into action.
I chatted to Chris Eubank and moaned about my impending doom in 15 minutes with two consultants. Mr Eubank autographed my case notes. I still have it :). Mr Cobb who was the consultant there at the time was distinctly amused at the fact I essentially bullshitted my way through this exam. I asked both Cobb and his mate whether I got extra points for the " autograph". So they gave me an "A".
At least this was not as bad as being caught by the police while taking my Skeleton Harry from my flat at Swiss Cottage to the Anatomy dissection rooms. Fine, so I had a dead man in my ruck sack! I had some explaining to do to the Police. It reminded me of the tale I had read in 40 years of Murder where Prof Simpson a famous pathologist was stopped by the police as he brought the corpses head home to study. Yes, I was a horrible, horrible child, I knew every gory forensic pathology tale by the age of 16. Not the done thing for an "girl".
The good thing about Harry was that he was of "Mixed Race" or " Ethnically diverse". A skeleton that was handed down from generation to generation of doctors hence it had different bones from different people. In those days, it was none of these namby pamby computer programmes. We used real dissection bodies and real skeletons. Harry sat around for many years on my desk with a Trilby hat and a panama cigar - reminding us all of the dangers of smoking.
The most interesting character around UCL [apart from Harry] was a little Sri Lankan man nicknamed “ the chest wig”. His nickname was Joe 90. Joe 90 was a rather more flamboyant character by the regal name of Joseph Rukshan De Saram. Owner of Rhodium plc, he was originally at medical school with me in the 1990s.
I had to present the case by my observation of the patient" running" towards the blonde PA. Yes, I presented the patient only on observation of him running in slow motion to the blonde. It was interesting to see how fast a male patient can run following the sight of a buxom blonde. Minutes ago he was in bed with his " I am a patient, get me out of here look". It was clear that Chanel No 5 and Loreal hair dye plus accompanying wonderbra was the key to this miraculous recovery. Perhaps it was just his Charnley Hip kicking into action.
I chatted to Chris Eubank and moaned about my impending doom in 15 minutes with two consultants. Mr Eubank autographed my case notes. I still have it :). Mr Cobb who was the consultant there at the time was distinctly amused at the fact I essentially bullshitted my way through this exam. I asked both Cobb and his mate whether I got extra points for the " autograph". So they gave me an "A".
At least this was not as bad as being caught by the police while taking my Skeleton Harry from my flat at Swiss Cottage to the Anatomy dissection rooms. Fine, so I had a dead man in my ruck sack! I had some explaining to do to the Police. It reminded me of the tale I had read in 40 years of Murder where Prof Simpson a famous pathologist was stopped by the police as he brought the corpses head home to study. Yes, I was a horrible, horrible child, I knew every gory forensic pathology tale by the age of 16. Not the done thing for an "girl".
The good thing about Harry was that he was of "Mixed Race" or " Ethnically diverse". A skeleton that was handed down from generation to generation of doctors hence it had different bones from different people. In those days, it was none of these namby pamby computer programmes. We used real dissection bodies and real skeletons. Harry sat around for many years on my desk with a Trilby hat and a panama cigar - reminding us all of the dangers of smoking.
The most interesting character around UCL [apart from Harry] was a little Sri Lankan man nicknamed “ the chest wig”. His nickname was Joe 90. Joe 90 was a rather more flamboyant character by the regal name of Joseph Rukshan De Saram. Owner of Rhodium plc, he was originally at medical school with me in the 1990s.
In Mr DeSaram’s case, he was from a medical family, was very well off and had the A level grades to match. Had he not failed his exams, he would have been Dr Joseph DeSaram today. Joe 90 was larger than life and he also went onto be quite famous or shall we say " infamous".
On the 24th November 2000, an article in the Daily Mail headlined “Cyber-tycoon flees as firm crashes with £1m debts”. The subject of the article was Mr Joseph De Saram, a self made millionaire who amassed £25 million fortune after five years of running his computer business, Rhodium plc. He drove expensive cars, wore designer suits and became the role model for the Asian community in the UK.
In that year he made it into the list of the country’s richest people, sharing 18th place with Victoria and David Beckham. He was the darling of the Indian and British media, but their interest in him was to take an unexpected turn.
The Daily Mail article stated “A judge sitting in Leeds has wound up his Sheffield based firm, Rhodium, following an application by creditors who were owed at least £1million”. Joseph had apparently gone to Sri Lanka and many newspapers featured his sharp exit. His defence stated, “I let the old company get wound up as part of a global restructuring”. He also claimed to be in Sri Lanka because his “home was under surveillance”. Later, news stories emerged about collaboration with science fiction writer Arthur C Clark. A British broadsheet, The Guardian, wrote that “Clarke is backing Joseph de Saram, a controversial computer entrepreneur, in his plans to produce a version of HAL for the masses. The machine will be dubbed the Clarke Omniputer and was due to be released in January 2001”. Since January 2001, Joe DeSaram has disappeared from public eye. No one knew where the line of reality and fiction was drawn in Joseph DeSaram’s life. These days some say he resides in Australia.
Joe 90's past and his friendship with me is rather more like a comedy than anything else. Despite his flaws, Joe and I got on fairly well.
Born to a Sri Lankan medical family, Joseph went to public school in the UK. in Derbyshire He entered University College Medical school in 1991 but has always glossed over what really happened there. In the media he repeatedly stated, “I wasn’t challenged on an intellectual level”. He told the Daily Mail that he “quit his medical degree”. The truth about these statements is rather more intriguing, to say the least. To discover the early part of Joseph DeSaram’s life, one must travel back in time to 1991 at my first year at medical school. Many have to remember that I was a young thing, very naive and very shy.
In that year he made it into the list of the country’s richest people, sharing 18th place with Victoria and David Beckham. He was the darling of the Indian and British media, but their interest in him was to take an unexpected turn.
The Daily Mail article stated “A judge sitting in Leeds has wound up his Sheffield based firm, Rhodium, following an application by creditors who were owed at least £1million”. Joseph had apparently gone to Sri Lanka and many newspapers featured his sharp exit. His defence stated, “I let the old company get wound up as part of a global restructuring”. He also claimed to be in Sri Lanka because his “home was under surveillance”. Later, news stories emerged about collaboration with science fiction writer Arthur C Clark. A British broadsheet, The Guardian, wrote that “Clarke is backing Joseph de Saram, a controversial computer entrepreneur, in his plans to produce a version of HAL for the masses. The machine will be dubbed the Clarke Omniputer and was due to be released in January 2001”. Since January 2001, Joe DeSaram has disappeared from public eye. No one knew where the line of reality and fiction was drawn in Joseph DeSaram’s life. These days some say he resides in Australia.
Joe 90's past and his friendship with me is rather more like a comedy than anything else. Despite his flaws, Joe and I got on fairly well.
Born to a Sri Lankan medical family, Joseph went to public school in the UK. in Derbyshire He entered University College Medical school in 1991 but has always glossed over what really happened there. In the media he repeatedly stated, “I wasn’t challenged on an intellectual level”. He told the Daily Mail that he “quit his medical degree”. The truth about these statements is rather more intriguing, to say the least. To discover the early part of Joseph DeSaram’s life, one must travel back in time to 1991 at my first year at medical school. Many have to remember that I was a young thing, very naive and very shy.
In lectures, darkness meant that we could not see who was sitting next to us. The majority of the medical students had fallen asleep after their efforts at paper aeroplane construction failed to quench their boredom. The time: 1991. The place: the infamous cell biology lectures people attended to cure their insomnia. My eyelids drooped as I doodled on my notepad. While I was wondering why I wasn’t married to some millionaire [ because I always wonder about these things even to this day] and sunning myself in an exotic part of the world -a voice from the darkness caught my attention.
“Hello, my name is Joe, Joe De Saram, you have heard of me right?”
“Errrrrrm no Joe,” I answered.
“ Well, here is my American Express Platinum card” said Joe.
“Very nice hologram”, I said and turned back to my paper. That was not the answer he expected, but how would you react to a platinum card flashed in your face one early morning? I mean, the brain neurones had not even entered cell function!
There was something uncomfortable about selling yourself with a credit card. Of course, I didn’t have a Platinum card. But then I wasn’t impressed by his either. Joe was a stockily built gentleman with lots of teeth. I often thought he should have featured in advertisements for Colgate with that teethy glint.
At first glance he was Asian, with short hair and his shirt buttons open to the middle of his chest. Only a medallion was missing from his appearance. What amazed me most was the amount of chest hairs he possessed. It amused me to think that any woman who had attempted to tackle it probably got lost in there.
According to Joe, many women and come, seen, spent money on his Platinum card and gone away. My theory was that they had got lost in his “chest wig”. Joe spoke to me about his riches, telling me how much he had earned since he was 18.
What intrigued me about Joe was not his immense ability to sell himself (I never believed half of what he said) but a certain challenge to know what he was really like. My initial impression of him was unrepeatable in polite company, but I was polite to him. Gradually Joseph made attempts to be my friend. I would listen to his arrogance and then make a single comment to deflate his ego. Soon he realised that his array of platinum cards and flamboyant cars did not make an impact on my neurones. It was a challenge to discover the man behind the ego; a fascinating creature who never ceased to amaze me. Joe 90 as we called him was larger than life, yet over the years I found that there were elements of compassion and kindness beneath that vulgar, money driven exterior. His intellectual capacity was phenomenal. His mind for business was unlike anyone else. To be honest, I never realised how rich he was until very recently, but Joe always believed that if you put your mind to it, you would succeed. He was driven in every way and perhaps that is why everything finally went wrong. While we, as medical students, struggled with mundane things like rent, Joe was beavering away at his empire.
At first glance he was Asian, with short hair and his shirt buttons open to the middle of his chest. Only a medallion was missing from his appearance. What amazed me most was the amount of chest hairs he possessed. It amused me to think that any woman who had attempted to tackle it probably got lost in there.
According to Joe, many women and come, seen, spent money on his Platinum card and gone away. My theory was that they had got lost in his “chest wig”. Joe spoke to me about his riches, telling me how much he had earned since he was 18.
What intrigued me about Joe was not his immense ability to sell himself (I never believed half of what he said) but a certain challenge to know what he was really like. My initial impression of him was unrepeatable in polite company, but I was polite to him. Gradually Joseph made attempts to be my friend. I would listen to his arrogance and then make a single comment to deflate his ego. Soon he realised that his array of platinum cards and flamboyant cars did not make an impact on my neurones. It was a challenge to discover the man behind the ego; a fascinating creature who never ceased to amaze me. Joe 90 as we called him was larger than life, yet over the years I found that there were elements of compassion and kindness beneath that vulgar, money driven exterior. His intellectual capacity was phenomenal. His mind for business was unlike anyone else. To be honest, I never realised how rich he was until very recently, but Joe always believed that if you put your mind to it, you would succeed. He was driven in every way and perhaps that is why everything finally went wrong. While we, as medical students, struggled with mundane things like rent, Joe was beavering away at his empire.
Medical school was a field for admiration and money to Joe. Women flocked to him like no one else. The medics generally hated him - probably because they envied his money. On Red Nose day they decided to throw a bucket of wet flour on Joe’s head as a joke. Their plans were foiled because Joe was sitting in his student digs writing another computer program! Joe was featured in the Times and University College London magazines. To gain popularity, he joined the union and served them well until many people began to fall out with him. Life began to turn sour for Joseph. News reached me that he was in hospital following a car accident. I visited him and found that Joseph was in good spirits, with his female attendants fluttering around him. The accident had not stilled his roving eye for women! In fact, he would call the nurse, feigning pain, simply to see her beautiful face!
From that point on Joseph’s life began to spiral out of control. Some time later he called me with a message for the medical school officials stating that he was too ill to attend the exam retakes that year. What no one knew was that Joseph had failed a few of his first year medical school exams, probably due to his hunger for popularity. John Foreman, the then Dean, decided that after the third attempt, it was time to throw Joseph DeSaram out of medical school. And so he did. Understandably Joseph was uncomfortable with this decision and promptly sued them. He lost. He called me one night, distraught at what they had done. He did indeed have a vulnerable and more likeable side – a side rarely seen by anyone. Unfortunately his personality had so many exterior layers that it was difficult to keep this in mind during his arrogant phases.
Slowly, with my support, Joseph began to build himself up again. As I struggled through medical school in debt, Joseph was making millions. We would meet occasionally at his house in Colindale and poke fun at our fellow medical students. We both loved Chinese food and for many years we were fairly good friends. Joseph always hated my boyfriends, commenting “they are not good enough for you, Rita”. His favourite photograph of me was sitting at the Amnesty International ball in my black dress. In his album, he listed me as talking to the chair next to me as the medics were so boring. We had met there as my date had flushed his bow tie down the toilet and was paralytic with intoxication. Joseph actually paid me subtle compliments, which I pointedly ignored. Ironically, for some strange reason, he was the one to drop me home safely that night. He was constantly amused by my choice in men, and would tell me how he was going to marry Helena Christiansen. I would sagely nod in disbelief. Unsurprisingly, I understand Helena Christiansen is not currently with Joseph De Saram!
Over the years, while we spoke at great length, he would show me tickets to showbiz parties. Joseph was changing. It was like a metamorphosis. He became his alter ego and I never saw Joseph the real person again. He was driven to be the best because of his rejection from medical school. He once stated, “I will show them, I am better than all of them”. And I guess for a period he was.
The media worshipped Joe De Saram for his rapid rise to multimillionaire status. His disappearance from the public eye is, I am sure, only temporary. If I know him (and I do know him - well), he will return with another press release, another Rolex watch and another platinum card, because for him tomorrow is indeed another day.
Related Links
http://www.wired.com/news/infostructure/0,1377,40398,00.html
http://www.srilankansabroad.com/halloffame/joe.htm
http://www.srilankansabroad.com/halloffame/default.htm
http://www.guardian.co.uk/Archive/Article/0,4273,4096647,00.html
http://books.guardian.co.uk/departments/sciencefiction/story/0,6000,403552,00.html
http://books.guardian.co.uk/departments/sciencefiction/story/0,6000,403552,00.html
http://www.guardian.co.uk/internetnews/story/0,7369,402296,00.html
http://www.lacnet.org/suntimes/000730/busm.html
http://www.theregister.co.uk/content/7/15052.html
http://www.vnunet.com/news/1114667
http://www.theregister.co.uk/2000/11/28/the_curious_case_of_arthur/
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