When I joined OG in 1959, in the 8th standard, the school was undergoing a painful transition to Indianisation under the strong and able leadership of Mr. Pasricha. The Senior Cambridge batch had, literally, god like stalwarts such as School Captain Jag Mohan Verma, tall, strong, and dashing, ably supported by the likes of Bhanot, Somesh Bose, and the snake slaying Singh.
Led by Mr. Edwards was a great team of teachers such as Messrs Ahmed,
Bannerjee, Chinwal, Dina, Fletcher, Gomes, Kelkar, Kukreti, and Luther. Mr. Ahmed could never be interrupted from his teaching. Even while he was lecturing in class, being the Master on Duty on that day, he went out to the corridor to investigate a disturbance, but continued with his lecturing while walking to the disturbance and back. He enticed many into reading newspapers by tantalizing us with the titillating details of the Nanavati case unfolding in the Bombay courtrooms. Got me addicted since then, to the eternal consternation of my better half and children. I similarly did my bit of introducing Leslie Tocher to the Hindustan Times by bringing to his attention their carrying the Comic Strip Buck Ryan on Page 2. There was no stopping Leslie after that from charging out of the Dining Room after lunch, beating everybody to the Library to get first crack at the days' Hindustan Times.
Even in those innocent days OG had its own peculiar denizens such as Garmi the friendly waiter, Jhooria the taciturn waker-upper and bed maker, and the Husky Bhotu, more Polar Bear than dog, but gentle as a monk. Talking about monks, a high point of 1959 was the exile of Dalai Lama. The first place Nehru brought him to was Mussoorie, and I remember classes were cancelled, and we were all sent down to Kulukhet to welcome him. Coincidentally, I ran into the Dalai Lama again in the late 1990s on the street in Toronto. Disgracefully the Canadian Government of the time (and even today), worried about offending China, refused to accord him official status, so he was reduced to walking along with a retinue of one, but that didn't dim his smile. I did mention to him about cheering him on at Kulukhet, and he was gracious enough to say he remembered, but I doubt it.
One other diversion, while on the subject of the Dalai Lama and Tibet.
Carolyn mentioned discovering in the Hospital Library the book on which the film Great Escape was based. I had a similar epiphany during the major Chicken Pox, Measles, and Mumps epidemics of 1961, when I scored the Trifecta of contracting all three in succession. During my stay I came across and read Seven Years in Tibet (also made into an atrocious film starring Brad Pitt). What made reading the book so personal was the discovery that on his escape from
Clement Town prison in Dehradoon, Heinrich Harrier actually went through the grounds of OG, on his escape to Tibet. The other warm memory from the stay in hospital was a beautiful young nurse, among four brought in to cope with the number of kids in hospital due to the epidemic. She was in Love with me. Absolutely. No two ways about it. Every evening she brought me a toffee. If that doesn't convince you nothing will! She too went back to Delhi after the epidemic, taking my heart with her. Fortunately I managed to retrieve it shortly thereafter, but that's another story.
Back to '59, we used to be woken up each morning by Jhuria clanging the large, heavy, hand-held bell, up and down the dormitory. Those of us who weren't affected by the bell, got a rude awakening courtesy Mr. Meston's cane on our nether parts. (On my last visit in 2005, during the Reunion, I was taken aback to see the two-tier bunk beds, and TVs in the Dormitory. I know, I know, all us old fogies complain about how tough it was in our times). Quick wash-up was followed by two, at least, rounds of running around the back-pitch before breakfast. There was a 15 minute break before class, during which a student each from standards 9, 10, and 11 went to the Garden
in front of the Headmaster's Office, opened the Meteorological Box, noted the High and Low temperatures, and measured overnight precipitation, all recorded in a Log Book. Mr. Fletcher reported these figures on a periodic basis to the appropriate Government of
India authorities. I really regretted the dying down of this practice once he left to join Campion in Bombay.
In those days, and I am sure even now, OG had its very own peculiar slang. My introduction to it was when I was standing around in class and Francis "Mule" (after "Francis the Talking Mule" Comics and Movies) Samuels, the prefect told me to "perch". It took me a while to figure out that I was being asked to sit down. Other examples are not for polite company, but are very funny. Even now when I explain some of these I have folks in stitches.
In class rooms we used to have twinned desks. One bench occupied by two students, with a single top divided into two desk tops. Each desk
top was inclined, and hinged, covering a cavity for books and other study material. Each desk top was latched to enable locking them. Invariably, however, keys would be lost and latches broken. The problem was solved by hammering nails into the inclined top, in the edge abutting the other top, so that when the other top came down, both desks would be locked when the other was.
Trouble was this provided opportunity for great mischief, to the guy with nails in his top. He could always disrupt you by insisting on opening his top while you were studying, so that you were forced lift your top as well and could do nothing until he decided to close his lid. You get the picture. One time I had had enough of K.K. Sabharwal, my desk mate, doing this to me. We got into a major disagreement, and he poked the back of my hand with the point of his compass. Infuriated, I let fly with my right hand holding a pencil. I hit him on the left side and ended up breaking the lead in his chest, drawing blood. He started to cry, and I started to sweat, as we were both convinced he was going to die. Needless to say we both survived to tell the tale.
About this time we were introduced to Hydrogen Sulphide gas by Mr.
Chinwal, in the Chemistry lab. Given the possibilities presented by its smell, I promptly purloined a few pellets of Ferrous Sulphide and poured some Hydrochloric Acid in my Quink Ink bottle. The idea was to disrupt the after dinner study period. As providence would have it, Mr. Gomes, the best Math Teacher I ever had, was Master on Duty that night. Mr. Gomes had a unique way of wagging his index finger under his nostrils whenever he detected noxious smelling human emissions.
Choosing a quiet moment, barely had I opened the bottle of Acid and dropped in the Ferrous Sulphide pellets that the Chemical reaction started in full force. The concoction was bubbling and emitting the god awful smells sending Leroy D'Cunha, my new desk mate, into
paroxysms of giggles, thus alerting Mr. Gomes to come running. I quickly tried closing the bottle, but the tell tale smell continued to hover around my desk. Mr. Gomes's index finger went into full wag mode, and the continuing chemical reaction sent the cap of the half closed bottle flying. There was complete and utter
pandemonium in the class room. Guys were crying from laughing so hard. I single handedly sent Tagore House down to first place in the ignominy department with the Black Marks I earned that night.
Phew, and that wasn't even all of '59! Those were the days - Vipin.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
JEAN GOMES ACCOUNT II
Carolyn,
Your memories brought back memories for me. The tuck boxes - wow - I remember that they were the most important. The gooseberry chutney and jam, mango pickle, tomato dorma, stickjaw and other goodies that my mother and grandmother used to make or buy for us. Everything had to be equally shared between my brothers and myself. We even counted the barly sugars so that we all had the same. It would all probably last about a week or two. I remember Pam Ayling. She had this powderd milk mixed with sugar. It was sensational. It got stuck in your teeth and lasted ages.
I remember when it was my turn to go to OG, I would get all the hand-me-downs from my sister Evelyn even though they were several sizes too big for me. The swimming costume was especially memoriable. I could not wait. My mother and grandmother used to mark all our clothes by embroidering our names on all our clothes. At school we wore black socks one week and white socks the next. We had to have our hair checked for lice and I remember the ayhas having to oil my hair and then they would tie thread around the teeth of my comb (three or four teeth together) as a make shift fine tooth comb and drag this through my hair. I had long hair at the time. Ouch.
I used to suck my fingers. They dipped my fingers in ink, put a sock on my hand at night and also put some bitter stuff on my fingers. But I still went ahead despite having a blue mouth (from the ink). I chewed through the sock!!!!. I stopped somehow.
I remember the Pereria girls. I still have some photos of them. How are they? I have seen pictures of them that you posted on one of your visits to OG. I also remember the Worthsworths. How are they all? I have a number of photos I would love to put on. I have pictures of my mother at school with her sola topy and another dressed in white along with about 6 other girls, getting confirmed; my brother Winston in a Shakespear Play and a couple of pictures of the boys school doing gymnastics in the valley - among others. Does anyone know how I can get them posted on our OG site? I am sure someone will recognise some of the boys or girls in the pictures. There is one of a group of us in the Junior School. I only recognise myself and Tara Malla.
I remember Mrs Marshall. I also rembember Mrs Haslam and Judith and Roy Haslam. In 1997 I went to La Martinere Calcutta for secretarial training. Over there I met relatives of Mrs Haslam - a big family. I only remember Delphine and Wendy Haslem. I was only there for one year. Small world isn't it? Miss Thomas - she corresponded with my sister Evelyn for several years and even sent her a beautiful red and gold sari. I still have it. Miss Wesley - we were all afraid of her. Miss Cleophas, Miss Nerona, Miss Garlah - Head Teacher. I remember Evelyn taking me to her to reassure me because I had swallowed a tooth while eating stickjaw.
Does anyone remember the name of our maths teacher? She was good at maths but unfortunately ............ ....
About the house colours - I was in blue house - I thought it was Meerabhai. I will have to check with my younger sister Yvonne who was still there after I left. Sarojini was yellow I think.
In years to come there were only a handful of Christians. We occassionally had service in the little chapel behind the dormatory. I remember receiving a Bible as a prize because I could recite the names of the books of the Bible. I had to - I was the oldest.
Two weeks ago I met a man who went to St Georges from 1960 to 1963/64. His father was in the army so they travelled around. His name was Trevor. Can't remember his surname. Does anyone remember him? I have waited all my life to meet someone from OG and I go and meet someone who went to St Georges. He remembered the inter school sports.
My sister Evelyn was School Captain and Spirit of OG. She came back the next year to study shorthand. Unfortuanlatelly Mrs Fowles (or was it Mrs Woolfe? who I think taught shorthand & business studies) left half way through the year and so Evelyn had to leave too. I can still remember her leaving with my father. I was devistated. I also remember the needlework and dressmaking classes we had during my early years. I still have a cross-stitch table cloth I made (the easy way out) and a linen bag my sister Evelyn made. It was done in proper satin stitch and back stitch etc. She was much better at everything than I was. I will have to confirm some of these names with Evelyn.
You mentioned the dandy. My mother remembers going to school in a dandy. She was in OG in the 1930s.
"This is when I remember helping a young Jean Tocher with her costume". What costume did you help me with Carolyn? I remember Evelyn dressing me as a doll-in-a-box and a bon-bon for our Jha Jha socials only because I have photos of myself in a big doll box and a bon-bon (does anyone NOT know what a bon-bon is?). This was before I went to OG.
I remember the snow - the one and only time we had snow (while I was at OG anyway).
You have brought back so many memories. I will comment on the rest of them in my next episode.
Jean Gomes (Tocher)
'66
Your memories brought back memories for me. The tuck boxes - wow - I remember that they were the most important. The gooseberry chutney and jam, mango pickle, tomato dorma, stickjaw and other goodies that my mother and grandmother used to make or buy for us. Everything had to be equally shared between my brothers and myself. We even counted the barly sugars so that we all had the same. It would all probably last about a week or two. I remember Pam Ayling. She had this powderd milk mixed with sugar. It was sensational. It got stuck in your teeth and lasted ages.
I remember when it was my turn to go to OG, I would get all the hand-me-downs from my sister Evelyn even though they were several sizes too big for me. The swimming costume was especially memoriable. I could not wait. My mother and grandmother used to mark all our clothes by embroidering our names on all our clothes. At school we wore black socks one week and white socks the next. We had to have our hair checked for lice and I remember the ayhas having to oil my hair and then they would tie thread around the teeth of my comb (three or four teeth together) as a make shift fine tooth comb and drag this through my hair. I had long hair at the time. Ouch.
I used to suck my fingers. They dipped my fingers in ink, put a sock on my hand at night and also put some bitter stuff on my fingers. But I still went ahead despite having a blue mouth (from the ink). I chewed through the sock!!!!. I stopped somehow.
I remember the Pereria girls. I still have some photos of them. How are they? I have seen pictures of them that you posted on one of your visits to OG. I also remember the Worthsworths. How are they all? I have a number of photos I would love to put on. I have pictures of my mother at school with her sola topy and another dressed in white along with about 6 other girls, getting confirmed; my brother Winston in a Shakespear Play and a couple of pictures of the boys school doing gymnastics in the valley - among others. Does anyone know how I can get them posted on our OG site? I am sure someone will recognise some of the boys or girls in the pictures. There is one of a group of us in the Junior School. I only recognise myself and Tara Malla.
I remember Mrs Marshall. I also rembember Mrs Haslam and Judith and Roy Haslam. In 1997 I went to La Martinere Calcutta for secretarial training. Over there I met relatives of Mrs Haslam - a big family. I only remember Delphine and Wendy Haslem. I was only there for one year. Small world isn't it? Miss Thomas - she corresponded with my sister Evelyn for several years and even sent her a beautiful red and gold sari. I still have it. Miss Wesley - we were all afraid of her. Miss Cleophas, Miss Nerona, Miss Garlah - Head Teacher. I remember Evelyn taking me to her to reassure me because I had swallowed a tooth while eating stickjaw.
Does anyone remember the name of our maths teacher? She was good at maths but unfortunately ............ ....
About the house colours - I was in blue house - I thought it was Meerabhai. I will have to check with my younger sister Yvonne who was still there after I left. Sarojini was yellow I think.
In years to come there were only a handful of Christians. We occassionally had service in the little chapel behind the dormatory. I remember receiving a Bible as a prize because I could recite the names of the books of the Bible. I had to - I was the oldest.
Two weeks ago I met a man who went to St Georges from 1960 to 1963/64. His father was in the army so they travelled around. His name was Trevor. Can't remember his surname. Does anyone remember him? I have waited all my life to meet someone from OG and I go and meet someone who went to St Georges. He remembered the inter school sports.
My sister Evelyn was School Captain and Spirit of OG. She came back the next year to study shorthand. Unfortuanlatelly Mrs Fowles (or was it Mrs Woolfe? who I think taught shorthand & business studies) left half way through the year and so Evelyn had to leave too. I can still remember her leaving with my father. I was devistated. I also remember the needlework and dressmaking classes we had during my early years. I still have a cross-stitch table cloth I made (the easy way out) and a linen bag my sister Evelyn made. It was done in proper satin stitch and back stitch etc. She was much better at everything than I was. I will have to confirm some of these names with Evelyn.
You mentioned the dandy. My mother remembers going to school in a dandy. She was in OG in the 1930s.
"This is when I remember helping a young Jean Tocher with her costume". What costume did you help me with Carolyn? I remember Evelyn dressing me as a doll-in-a-box and a bon-bon for our Jha Jha socials only because I have photos of myself in a big doll box and a bon-bon (does anyone NOT know what a bon-bon is?). This was before I went to OG.
I remember the snow - the one and only time we had snow (while I was at OG anyway).
You have brought back so many memories. I will comment on the rest of them in my next episode.
Jean Gomes (Tocher)
'66
Sunday, June 14, 2009
OLYMPIANS FROM OAK GROVE SCHOOL
This article was published in the Tribune, Chandigarh dated October 25th, 2008
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Indian hockey owes much of its success during its formative years to schools of Mussoorie, which have nurtured as much as 10 Olympic hockey gold medal winners between 1928 and 1936.
The dominance of players from Mussoorie during this period can be gauged from the fact that the 1928 team had six, 1932 team five and 1936 team had four players who had studied at Mussoorie. Notably, the Indian hockey team won the gold in all three Olympics.
George Marthins (1928), Maurice A. Gateley (1928), William James Goodsir Cullen (1928), Carlyle Carroll Tapsell (1932 to 1936), Ernest John Goodsir Cullen (1936) and Lionel C. Emmett (1936) were the products of St. Georges' College. Oak Grove school produced Eric Pinniger (1928 to 1932), Leslie Charles Hammond (1928 to 1932), Richard James Allen (1928 to 1936) and Richard John Carr (1932). In addition, N. Nugent after studying in St. Georges’ represented Great Britain and was part of their bronze medal winning team at Helsinki Olympics in 1952.
The most celebrated among all these illustrious players was Eric Pinniger, regarded by many as the best centre-half in the world. He was the vice-captain of the 1928 team and went on to lead the team in the Olympic finals against Holland. Allen, an outstanding goalkeeper, played three consecutive Olympics and in 10 matches conceded only two goals. It is also believed that one of these two goals was scored by USA while Allen was busy signing autographs! However, India won that match 24-1.
Tapsell and Hammond were both defenders and played two Olympics each. The Cullen brothers, William and Ernest, had started grabbing the headlines from their schooldays. William, a left-half, was knownm for his “rock-like defense”.
Marthins, Gateley, Emmett and Carr were all forwards who played as left or right wingers alongside Major Dhyan Chand, the Indian hockey legend. Marthins usually played as a right inside forward and formed an indomitable duo with Dhyan Chand.
According to Brother Xavier, principal of St. Georges’ College, the school has a high regard for these champions and the four “school houses” have been named after Cullen, Gateley, Marthins and Tapsell.
However, the Oak Grove school was oblivious of their illustrious alumni and facts were revealed only when The Tribune contacted the school and an examination of old records was made with the help of Bahadur Singh. Sadly, Brother Xavier does not seem very optimistic about future prospects of the game. “Earlier hockey used to be the main sport but now students are more into cricket and football,” he said.
He also believes that now students are more concerned about securing higher and higher marks in order to get admission to good colleges. “Having certificates in sports is no replacement for high percentages these days,” he said.
Keeping the deteriorating standards of Indian hockey in mind, it would indeed be worthwhile that the schools of Mussoorie nurture more such champions in future and give the much-needed boost to our National sport yet again.
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Indian hockey owes much of its success during its formative years to schools of Mussoorie, which have nurtured as much as 10 Olympic hockey gold medal winners between 1928 and 1936.
The dominance of players from Mussoorie during this period can be gauged from the fact that the 1928 team had six, 1932 team five and 1936 team had four players who had studied at Mussoorie. Notably, the Indian hockey team won the gold in all three Olympics.
George Marthins (1928), Maurice A. Gateley (1928), William James Goodsir Cullen (1928), Carlyle Carroll Tapsell (1932 to 1936), Ernest John Goodsir Cullen (1936) and Lionel C. Emmett (1936) were the products of St. Georges' College. Oak Grove school produced Eric Pinniger (1928 to 1932), Leslie Charles Hammond (1928 to 1932), Richard James Allen (1928 to 1936) and Richard John Carr (1932). In addition, N. Nugent after studying in St. Georges’ represented Great Britain and was part of their bronze medal winning team at Helsinki Olympics in 1952.
The most celebrated among all these illustrious players was Eric Pinniger, regarded by many as the best centre-half in the world. He was the vice-captain of the 1928 team and went on to lead the team in the Olympic finals against Holland. Allen, an outstanding goalkeeper, played three consecutive Olympics and in 10 matches conceded only two goals. It is also believed that one of these two goals was scored by USA while Allen was busy signing autographs! However, India won that match 24-1.
Tapsell and Hammond were both defenders and played two Olympics each. The Cullen brothers, William and Ernest, had started grabbing the headlines from their schooldays. William, a left-half, was knownm for his “rock-like defense”.
Marthins, Gateley, Emmett and Carr were all forwards who played as left or right wingers alongside Major Dhyan Chand, the Indian hockey legend. Marthins usually played as a right inside forward and formed an indomitable duo with Dhyan Chand.
According to Brother Xavier, principal of St. Georges’ College, the school has a high regard for these champions and the four “school houses” have been named after Cullen, Gateley, Marthins and Tapsell.
However, the Oak Grove school was oblivious of their illustrious alumni and facts were revealed only when The Tribune contacted the school and an examination of old records was made with the help of Bahadur Singh. Sadly, Brother Xavier does not seem very optimistic about future prospects of the game. “Earlier hockey used to be the main sport but now students are more into cricket and football,” he said.
He also believes that now students are more concerned about securing higher and higher marks in order to get admission to good colleges. “Having certificates in sports is no replacement for high percentages these days,” he said.
Keeping the deteriorating standards of Indian hockey in mind, it would indeed be worthwhile that the schools of Mussoorie nurture more such champions in future and give the much-needed boost to our National sport yet again.
CAROLYN MARTIN'S ACCOUNT
This article is a work by Carolyn Martin. It has been posted from the yahoo group blog.
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I was not in Oak Grove for very long - however, my short time with the school was one of extreme happiness and has always remained a very important few years in my life.
It was the early 1960's when my mother enrolled my two brothers and myself in Oak Grove School, Jharipani. We were kitted out with the uniform all packed in the old metal trunks one used then, and the "tuckbox" full of edible goodies duly packed. I was not new to Boarding School as I had been studying at the The Convent of Jesus and Mary in Poona since I was about 10 years old - but my brothers were - they studied at St Mary's in Bombay.
It was going to be quite a long train journey from Bombay to Dehra Dun and I expect with the energy of the young it was something we looked forward to - also, we were travelling
with the Pereira girls
who lived in the same complex as we did, i.e. Lynette, Lillian and Lois and of course Leander - their brother. We boarded our train at Victoria Terminus - (that grand old station), found our carrriage and settled in in somewhat surpressed excitement. This was the beginning a new adventure, a new chapter in my Book of Life. My mother was a very brave woman as she was escorting us to school and helping her was Loretta Pereira. My younger sister and brother were also travelling with us this time - so we were quite a crowd of people really.
The journey had begun, t'was a long, long run - to that far off land where everything was grand. (From my poem The Journey). It was exciting and the best times were the stops at the stations where the hawkers cries of Paan, Bidi, Copi, Chai - garam chai were plentiful - and welcome. We dined in the dining car and even showered on the train - and I
will never forget the carrot hulva at Agra/Delhi. We eventually arrived at Dehra Dun Station, freshly showered and dressed - while mumma organised our luggage we took stock of our surroundings and the other students who were also at the station and were introduced to them by the Pereira's. Our journey had ended as over our luggage we'd bend recognising our friends at journey's end.
It was decided we would take the bus to Kulukhet and venture on by foot from there - and the coolies would take our luggage up to school. (In hindsight it sounds so terrible as these were human beings). Eventually we arrived and my first glimpse of OG was the valley - I was in another world altogether, this was heaven and I was in it!! We posed for photos of course (I have them in my album - they were on the website somewhere but are lost at this moment), and then we all traipsed first to the Junior school to deposit brother Francis with Mrs
Haslam, then the Boys' School where brother Bill was to reside (with some of the Senior boys already flirting with the girls and my mumma) and then it was to the Girls' School. My mother and Loretta were staying at the Halfway House for a couple of days prior to returning to Bombay.
After being shown our cupboards in the locker room and the dormitory we unpacked and got into bed - my mother was leaving the next day - I had a twinge of homesickness which grew rapidly as I heard Mrs Marshall shout rather loudly at her daughter - only at the time I was not aware it was her daughter and wondered why my parents had enrolled me here if this was how the students were spoken to!! I sort of inched lower into the bed hoping I would not be noticed by "the voice".
My mother left the next day after coming up to see me (I expect she did the same for my brothers). I wished her sadly as we were going to be apart for an
awfully long time and then wandered on to the hillside to watch her progress down the hill and through the valley...a million thoughts going through my mind. I was quiet for the rest of the day and reflected on home and my younger siblings and friends I had left behind in Bombay.
The House colours were Pink (Meerabhai), Blue (?Padmini) and lilac (?Sarojani). They used to be York, Gloucester and Kent and eventually these remnants of the bygone British era were gradually phased out post Independence. I was in Meerabhai House.
The school was thoughtful to the point of how much pocket money one could have - there was a limit both ways and this was really good. Once a week Mullabux would arrive with his box of goodies and we would buy what we liked out of the p/m doled out to us. rock cakes were the favourite. My dear friend Priscilla Wordsworth and I used to pool our resources and the one or two paisas
left over would go into a money box to be used at later date.
We had so much to keep us occupied at Oak Grove - and we never really had an opportunity to be "bored" - we saw movies every fortnight (provided the school was not in lockdown due to mumps, measles or chicken pox), our brothers visited us every week - or not for all of the above reasons, m/m/cp. The Catholics went to church every Sunday (in our lovely white dresses), and deposited/collected the letters from under the runners in the pews set up by the boys (for distribution later). Father would come down from St George to give us instruction in a "dandy" (I read years later he had been murdered along the route by bandits).
Exam time and we studied by "night" light. In some ways it was quite regimented - like polishing your shoes every second night and then the matron on duty inspecting them. One evening Mrs Fowles (nee Wragg) punished me for some misdemeanour - I had to stand outside her door. And then she promptly forgot about me - I was still standing out there until she had finished her shower etc and she must have been coming out to make sure were were all tucked into bed like the good children we were (she says tongue in cheek) and almost jumped out of he skin when she saw the spectre of her student outside her door and apologising profusely ordered me to bed.
There was swimming in the little pool we girls had and gymnastics in the hall up there - sports down at the sports fields where we tucked our sports bloomers under so they looked like short shorts!! We were given a character in history and all
the literature on him/her
so we could write our own play - lights, costumes, sound effects etc.etc... We designed out own flags for Sports Day in the valley - high secrecy - behind closed doors. There were the Girl Guides and the meeting we had in "The room" at the top of the steps - singing all our guide songs in 'harmony'. Founder's Day celebrations in the school and the down in the valley when we were allowed to wear mufti - or an invitation to the Senior Boys School for some celebration. Inter School Sports which was an event in itself.
On Saturday & Sunday afternoons we used to listen to music on the gramophone - (the old '78s(?) - Elvis & Fabian and Ricky Nelson and of course Connie Francis and there was Sandra Dee and Troy Donahue - and a few other hunks - it was our time to relax and we played board games like scrabble and monopoly and danced the jive and cha cha or even just listen to the Bugler on "Bugler's Hill"
There would be a social every month which each class took in turn to organise - and there had to be a theme. This is when I remember helping a young Jean Tocher with her costume. Our darling Mrs Edwards used to attend and used to request I sing Fascination or La Vi En Rose - she and Mr E used to go dancing into Muss. They were such a romantic and handsome couple - and they have never lost that wonderfully dedicated air about them.
One year, shortly after arrival at school we were all sitting at our desks and a terrible storm was erupting - pouring with rain and then hail and suddenly we could still see things falling from the sky only no sound. Snow! All the girls including Miss Noronha (affectionately nicknamed Minnie Mouse), ran to the window and jumped on to the low table by it - ( I did not as my desk was by the window) a few moments later Tootsie Garlah walked past the door and clapping her hands loudly ordered the 'girls' off the table and back to your desks!! and they obeyed - including Minnie. We were given a day off to enjoy the snow.
The hula hop was all the craze at this time and we were filmed showing off our expertise by the Railway Board for some promotion or the other.
At the end of the year we used to collect wood for an enormous bon fire and were allowed quite a lot of freedom in our search - it was quite a feat getting a chair to the top of the bonfire - and the crackers in between. We also had a farewell dinner and gave the teachers 'gifts' we made out of old badminton rackets etc... it was all taken in good humour - even by Miss Wesley (the strictest teacher in the GS). We also used to have a bonfire in the valley tennis courts - with skits put on by the Guides and Scouts usually about things that occurred during the year (like the Orchard incident). We were also given our pocket money to finish - those were the days when you could buy 100 walnuts for Rs1/- - and the going away songs we would sing - and the puri tac one managed to put away.
During my last year at OG I got quite ill following one of our midnight feasts - I had eaten some canned peas (needless to say I do not eat peas to this day) - I was sent to the school hospital and was on a starvation diet as I was being tested for amoebic dystentry - however, this came back clear and one morning the bearer came in really early advising me I could eat - so I had a great breakfast of parathas, cream and jam. At around seven the Nursing Sister came and said Carolyn, you can start eating again - and I did. It was whilst in the School hospital I read The Great Escape - under another title and it all came back to me when I saw the movie years later. Of course I got many parcels of sweetmeats from my admirers in the Boy's School via my brother Bill - which I shared with the other patients naturally. I think of them often, Joseph Samuels - great swimmer, Oscar Matthews and Daryl D'Cruz. I remember with great affection Roy Haslam and
Indru M (yes, Indru, I knew who you were too).
At the end of the year there was entertainment put on by the students in the valley - plays and poems and satire and one year a play called The Crimson Coconut was put on by the boys - starring Oscar M and Roy H as the females in the play - it was quite hilarious as every time Oscar turned it was quite sharply and his skirt would fly up giving us a glimpse of these really hairy legs.
I remember so well our birthdays in school, when we were allowed to order the food for the
day - Kofta Curry was a favourite and puris at night. We could also have a little party with our close friends and the school catered (at our parent's expense) - and one year I had a cake in the shape of corn on the cob - it was quite exquisite with the green leaves pulled back and the little yellow kernels of corn.
We shared everything - I even remember the fantastic sauce Priscilla's mum used to make. And you never carried tales or you would be sent to Coventry. Flagging on the hillside. Watching the boys play cricket.
I guess OG gave us the confidence to move forward in our lives - it gave me a passion for reading and Shakespeare ( I joined a Shakespearean Group later ). I often think of those teachers who in some ways were responsible for the wonderful feeling OG brought out in us - Rani Thomas, Miss Raffin and the staff she used to walk uphill, Miss Ganjur and Minnie Noronha, Ella Wella Wesley, Miss Cleophas and how could I ever forget Mrs Wolfe - the teas we had with the Edwards, Mrs Kelka our dietitian and Tootsie Garlah.
The year I was in the school hospital was the last time I was to be in OG - my mother had to come and collect me as I needed my appendix out - I must have known I would not be back as I wept copiously on Tootsies ample bosom - circumstances had changed and I never did return to my beloved Oak Grove as a student.
And the students - the Gomes girls, Sherril and Susan Nogg, Savitha Mathur, Veena Bhatia and Cookie Yashpal, Lynette D'Cruz and Diana McDonough Alison Pushong.In 2005 I caught up with Sharmila Mansukhani, Swarch Bewtra, Joan Beaucasin and of course the Wordsworth family were there too - as was Bert Payne. I remember Priscilla Ralph (Rose Red) and Priscilla Coelho (Snow White). I have such wonderful memories of that wonderful Shangrila that is Oak Grove - unique - one of a kind - serendipitous.
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I was not in Oak Grove for very long - however, my short time with the school was one of extreme happiness and has always remained a very important few years in my life.
It was the early 1960's when my mother enrolled my two brothers and myself in Oak Grove School, Jharipani. We were kitted out with the uniform all packed in the old metal trunks one used then, and the "tuckbox" full of edible goodies duly packed. I was not new to Boarding School as I had been studying at the The Convent of Jesus and Mary in Poona since I was about 10 years old - but my brothers were - they studied at St Mary's in Bombay.
It was going to be quite a long train journey from Bombay to Dehra Dun and I expect with the energy of the young it was something we looked forward to - also, we were travelling
with the Pereira girls
who lived in the same complex as we did, i.e. Lynette, Lillian and Lois and of course Leander - their brother. We boarded our train at Victoria Terminus - (that grand old station), found our carrriage and settled in in somewhat surpressed excitement. This was the beginning a new adventure, a new chapter in my Book of Life. My mother was a very brave woman as she was escorting us to school and helping her was Loretta Pereira. My younger sister and brother were also travelling with us this time - so we were quite a crowd of people really.
The journey had begun, t'was a long, long run - to that far off land where everything was grand. (From my poem The Journey). It was exciting and the best times were the stops at the stations where the hawkers cries of Paan, Bidi, Copi, Chai - garam chai were plentiful - and welcome. We dined in the dining car and even showered on the train - and I
will never forget the carrot hulva at Agra/Delhi. We eventually arrived at Dehra Dun Station, freshly showered and dressed - while mumma organised our luggage we took stock of our surroundings and the other students who were also at the station and were introduced to them by the Pereira's. Our journey had ended as over our luggage we'd bend recognising our friends at journey's end.
It was decided we would take the bus to Kulukhet and venture on by foot from there - and the coolies would take our luggage up to school. (In hindsight it sounds so terrible as these were human beings). Eventually we arrived and my first glimpse of OG was the valley - I was in another world altogether, this was heaven and I was in it!! We posed for photos of course (I have them in my album - they were on the website somewhere but are lost at this moment), and then we all traipsed first to the Junior school to deposit brother Francis with Mrs
Haslam, then the Boys' School where brother Bill was to reside (with some of the Senior boys already flirting with the girls and my mumma) and then it was to the Girls' School. My mother and Loretta were staying at the Halfway House for a couple of days prior to returning to Bombay.
After being shown our cupboards in the locker room and the dormitory we unpacked and got into bed - my mother was leaving the next day - I had a twinge of homesickness which grew rapidly as I heard Mrs Marshall shout rather loudly at her daughter - only at the time I was not aware it was her daughter and wondered why my parents had enrolled me here if this was how the students were spoken to!! I sort of inched lower into the bed hoping I would not be noticed by "the voice".
My mother left the next day after coming up to see me (I expect she did the same for my brothers). I wished her sadly as we were going to be apart for an
awfully long time and then wandered on to the hillside to watch her progress down the hill and through the valley...a million thoughts going through my mind. I was quiet for the rest of the day and reflected on home and my younger siblings and friends I had left behind in Bombay.
The House colours were Pink (Meerabhai), Blue (?Padmini) and lilac (?Sarojani). They used to be York, Gloucester and Kent and eventually these remnants of the bygone British era were gradually phased out post Independence. I was in Meerabhai House.
The school was thoughtful to the point of how much pocket money one could have - there was a limit both ways and this was really good. Once a week Mullabux would arrive with his box of goodies and we would buy what we liked out of the p/m doled out to us. rock cakes were the favourite. My dear friend Priscilla Wordsworth and I used to pool our resources and the one or two paisas
left over would go into a money box to be used at later date.
We had so much to keep us occupied at Oak Grove - and we never really had an opportunity to be "bored" - we saw movies every fortnight (provided the school was not in lockdown due to mumps, measles or chicken pox), our brothers visited us every week - or not for all of the above reasons, m/m/cp. The Catholics went to church every Sunday (in our lovely white dresses), and deposited/collected the letters from under the runners in the pews set up by the boys (for distribution later). Father would come down from St George to give us instruction in a "dandy" (I read years later he had been murdered along the route by bandits).
Exam time and we studied by "night" light. In some ways it was quite regimented - like polishing your shoes every second night and then the matron on duty inspecting them. One evening Mrs Fowles (nee Wragg) punished me for some misdemeanour - I had to stand outside her door. And then she promptly forgot about me - I was still standing out there until she had finished her shower etc and she must have been coming out to make sure were were all tucked into bed like the good children we were (she says tongue in cheek) and almost jumped out of he skin when she saw the spectre of her student outside her door and apologising profusely ordered me to bed.
There was swimming in the little pool we girls had and gymnastics in the hall up there - sports down at the sports fields where we tucked our sports bloomers under so they looked like short shorts!! We were given a character in history and all
the literature on him/her
so we could write our own play - lights, costumes, sound effects etc.etc... We designed out own flags for Sports Day in the valley - high secrecy - behind closed doors. There were the Girl Guides and the meeting we had in "The room" at the top of the steps - singing all our guide songs in 'harmony'. Founder's Day celebrations in the school and the down in the valley when we were allowed to wear mufti - or an invitation to the Senior Boys School for some celebration. Inter School Sports which was an event in itself.
On Saturday & Sunday afternoons we used to listen to music on the gramophone - (the old '78s(?) - Elvis & Fabian and Ricky Nelson and of course Connie Francis and there was Sandra Dee and Troy Donahue - and a few other hunks - it was our time to relax and we played board games like scrabble and monopoly and danced the jive and cha cha or even just listen to the Bugler on "Bugler's Hill"
There would be a social every month which each class took in turn to organise - and there had to be a theme. This is when I remember helping a young Jean Tocher with her costume. Our darling Mrs Edwards used to attend and used to request I sing Fascination or La Vi En Rose - she and Mr E used to go dancing into Muss. They were such a romantic and handsome couple - and they have never lost that wonderfully dedicated air about them.
One year, shortly after arrival at school we were all sitting at our desks and a terrible storm was erupting - pouring with rain and then hail and suddenly we could still see things falling from the sky only no sound. Snow! All the girls including Miss Noronha (affectionately nicknamed Minnie Mouse), ran to the window and jumped on to the low table by it - ( I did not as my desk was by the window) a few moments later Tootsie Garlah walked past the door and clapping her hands loudly ordered the 'girls' off the table and back to your desks!! and they obeyed - including Minnie. We were given a day off to enjoy the snow.
The hula hop was all the craze at this time and we were filmed showing off our expertise by the Railway Board for some promotion or the other.
At the end of the year we used to collect wood for an enormous bon fire and were allowed quite a lot of freedom in our search - it was quite a feat getting a chair to the top of the bonfire - and the crackers in between. We also had a farewell dinner and gave the teachers 'gifts' we made out of old badminton rackets etc... it was all taken in good humour - even by Miss Wesley (the strictest teacher in the GS). We also used to have a bonfire in the valley tennis courts - with skits put on by the Guides and Scouts usually about things that occurred during the year (like the Orchard incident). We were also given our pocket money to finish - those were the days when you could buy 100 walnuts for Rs1/- - and the going away songs we would sing - and the puri tac one managed to put away.
During my last year at OG I got quite ill following one of our midnight feasts - I had eaten some canned peas (needless to say I do not eat peas to this day) - I was sent to the school hospital and was on a starvation diet as I was being tested for amoebic dystentry - however, this came back clear and one morning the bearer came in really early advising me I could eat - so I had a great breakfast of parathas, cream and jam. At around seven the Nursing Sister came and said Carolyn, you can start eating again - and I did. It was whilst in the School hospital I read The Great Escape - under another title and it all came back to me when I saw the movie years later. Of course I got many parcels of sweetmeats from my admirers in the Boy's School via my brother Bill - which I shared with the other patients naturally. I think of them often, Joseph Samuels - great swimmer, Oscar Matthews and Daryl D'Cruz. I remember with great affection Roy Haslam and
Indru M (yes, Indru, I knew who you were too).
At the end of the year there was entertainment put on by the students in the valley - plays and poems and satire and one year a play called The Crimson Coconut was put on by the boys - starring Oscar M and Roy H as the females in the play - it was quite hilarious as every time Oscar turned it was quite sharply and his skirt would fly up giving us a glimpse of these really hairy legs.
I remember so well our birthdays in school, when we were allowed to order the food for the
day - Kofta Curry was a favourite and puris at night. We could also have a little party with our close friends and the school catered (at our parent's expense) - and one year I had a cake in the shape of corn on the cob - it was quite exquisite with the green leaves pulled back and the little yellow kernels of corn.
We shared everything - I even remember the fantastic sauce Priscilla's mum used to make. And you never carried tales or you would be sent to Coventry. Flagging on the hillside. Watching the boys play cricket.
I guess OG gave us the confidence to move forward in our lives - it gave me a passion for reading and Shakespeare ( I joined a Shakespearean Group later ). I often think of those teachers who in some ways were responsible for the wonderful feeling OG brought out in us - Rani Thomas, Miss Raffin and the staff she used to walk uphill, Miss Ganjur and Minnie Noronha, Ella Wella Wesley, Miss Cleophas and how could I ever forget Mrs Wolfe - the teas we had with the Edwards, Mrs Kelka our dietitian and Tootsie Garlah.
The year I was in the school hospital was the last time I was to be in OG - my mother had to come and collect me as I needed my appendix out - I must have known I would not be back as I wept copiously on Tootsies ample bosom - circumstances had changed and I never did return to my beloved Oak Grove as a student.
And the students - the Gomes girls, Sherril and Susan Nogg, Savitha Mathur, Veena Bhatia and Cookie Yashpal, Lynette D'Cruz and Diana McDonough Alison Pushong.In 2005 I caught up with Sharmila Mansukhani, Swarch Bewtra, Joan Beaucasin and of course the Wordsworth family were there too - as was Bert Payne. I remember Priscilla Ralph (Rose Red) and Priscilla Coelho (Snow White). I have such wonderful memories of that wonderful Shangrila that is Oak Grove - unique - one of a kind - serendipitous.
RAJIV'S ACCOUNT
This article is a work by Rajiv - batch of 1970. It is posted here from the yahoo group blog.
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The bit about the "learning" stage as in 1995 reminded me of what kids we were in 1970 - and thats when we were "passing out". And if you take kids of the current era - perhaps they could teach us a lesson or two !
In any case,on a different subject, one aspect that I feel really pinched anyone who sufferred was being "gated". For the uninitiated (the practice may no longer be prevalent)- being gated meant that every place beyond the BS boundaries was out of bounds for the duration of your gating. This meant that while trips to Muss were fully verbotten, worse - even GS gate was out of range - meaning no movies, socials etc.
All major misdemeanours resulted in gating.
The one incident that comes to mind was either of 1979. It was a Sunday & the news came in that a Gattu had overturned at the culvert in Jhids just after the climb up from the village ended & a kuchha road took off at the fork. Everyone wanted to take a look first hand.Now, going to Jhids "officially" was out of question so we decided to bunk.
The entire 'SC batch trooped out - I was coerced into staying back as I was the POD. naturally such a gang would'nt go unnoticed & the news travelled resulting in a SOS "roll call" in the covered shed. What happened next need not be detailed except that the entire batch got gated - leaving me alone! I think it was for a month.
The long faces became a common sight as the period seemed endless. Worst of all a scheduled social went off unchanged & the guys could'nt attend - which really hurt all of us .
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The bit about the "learning" stage as in 1995 reminded me of what kids we were in 1970 - and thats when we were "passing out". And if you take kids of the current era - perhaps they could teach us a lesson or two !
In any case,on a different subject, one aspect that I feel really pinched anyone who sufferred was being "gated". For the uninitiated (the practice may no longer be prevalent)- being gated meant that every place beyond the BS boundaries was out of bounds for the duration of your gating. This meant that while trips to Muss were fully verbotten, worse - even GS gate was out of range - meaning no movies, socials etc.
All major misdemeanours resulted in gating.
The one incident that comes to mind was either of 1979. It was a Sunday & the news came in that a Gattu had overturned at the culvert in Jhids just after the climb up from the village ended & a kuchha road took off at the fork. Everyone wanted to take a look first hand.Now, going to Jhids "officially" was out of question so we decided to bunk.
The entire 'SC batch trooped out - I was coerced into staying back as I was the POD. naturally such a gang would'nt go unnoticed & the news travelled resulting in a SOS "roll call" in the covered shed. What happened next need not be detailed except that the entire batch got gated - leaving me alone! I think it was for a month.
The long faces became a common sight as the period seemed endless. Worst of all a scheduled social went off unchanged & the guys could'nt attend - which really hurt all of us .
JEAN GOMES' ACCOUNT
This article is a work by Jean Heather Gomes - batch of 1966. It has been posted from the yahoo group blog.
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On our way to school I was part of what was called the school batch. The train from Howrah went through Jha Jha where I lived, at about 1.00 a.m. I remember my mother waking us up at about midnight and the walk to the station to meet the train. The journey took the whole of that day and night and arrived at Dehra Dun some time in the morning of the following day.
We went through a station that had these red faced mondeys (red bum monkeys). We had to be careful because they were so bold they would steal anything they could and grab anything from our hands if we were near the window. We also went through a station that sold these incedible sweets - not sure what they were called - rowries I think. They were covered with sesami seeds.
When we arrived at Dehra Dun I remember we would go to the book stand to buy books (Mills & Boon I think) that would be passed around for the next few days/weeks and sometimes got confiscated when the teacher caught someone reading during the study hour (book hidden under the material we were pretending to study).
At Dehra Dun we would buy a lemon dipped in a spicy concotion that helped with the travel sickness several of us felt as our bus wound its way up to the junction where we all had to get off and walk several miles up to the valley. We were advised to stop walking if we wanted to look up or down - and not to do this while we were actually moving because someone had fallen to their death while walking and turning to wave at the same time (when leaving to wave to the Cambridge Exam students). How far this is true I do not know. Perhaps someone may enlighten us.
The school batch was also the last to leave. On the last evening the teacher on duty would take us for a walk where we could see the sun setting -this was a tradition - (later on we would stand and watch the sun going down). As the sun sank over the horizon we all chanted -going, going, going, going -gone - because the next day we would be going home. (Why do we miss OG so much now? We could not wait to leave it.) Now I believe they go home after Founders Day for how long I do not know.
Lots of memories - Father Rice (with his white beard). He visited the Junior School when I got these religious medals that made me feel good even though I was not a Catholic; visits by our brothers on Saturday when I was in the Senior School and totally depended on them and was devistated when none of them turned up - Leslie or Winston; the tuck man and his stickjaw; Mussoorie trips; Inter School Sports; dancing to 78s with our gramaphone and rivalry between Elvis Presley and Cliff Richards fans and lots lots more to come.
Do they still have the badminton and basket ball courts where we went every evening? Do you remember the leeches we had to avoid during the monsoon season and the only way to remove them was to put salt on them? Do you know that the girls did at one time play hockey? The first time I played I had my thumb hit and I never played it again.
Jean
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On our way to school I was part of what was called the school batch. The train from Howrah went through Jha Jha where I lived, at about 1.00 a.m. I remember my mother waking us up at about midnight and the walk to the station to meet the train. The journey took the whole of that day and night and arrived at Dehra Dun some time in the morning of the following day.
We went through a station that had these red faced mondeys (red bum monkeys). We had to be careful because they were so bold they would steal anything they could and grab anything from our hands if we were near the window. We also went through a station that sold these incedible sweets - not sure what they were called - rowries I think. They were covered with sesami seeds.
When we arrived at Dehra Dun I remember we would go to the book stand to buy books (Mills & Boon I think) that would be passed around for the next few days/weeks and sometimes got confiscated when the teacher caught someone reading during the study hour (book hidden under the material we were pretending to study).
At Dehra Dun we would buy a lemon dipped in a spicy concotion that helped with the travel sickness several of us felt as our bus wound its way up to the junction where we all had to get off and walk several miles up to the valley. We were advised to stop walking if we wanted to look up or down - and not to do this while we were actually moving because someone had fallen to their death while walking and turning to wave at the same time (when leaving to wave to the Cambridge Exam students). How far this is true I do not know. Perhaps someone may enlighten us.
The school batch was also the last to leave. On the last evening the teacher on duty would take us for a walk where we could see the sun setting -this was a tradition - (later on we would stand and watch the sun going down). As the sun sank over the horizon we all chanted -going, going, going, going -gone - because the next day we would be going home. (Why do we miss OG so much now? We could not wait to leave it.) Now I believe they go home after Founders Day for how long I do not know.
Lots of memories - Father Rice (with his white beard). He visited the Junior School when I got these religious medals that made me feel good even though I was not a Catholic; visits by our brothers on Saturday when I was in the Senior School and totally depended on them and was devistated when none of them turned up - Leslie or Winston; the tuck man and his stickjaw; Mussoorie trips; Inter School Sports; dancing to 78s with our gramaphone and rivalry between Elvis Presley and Cliff Richards fans and lots lots more to come.
Do they still have the badminton and basket ball courts where we went every evening? Do you remember the leeches we had to avoid during the monsoon season and the only way to remove them was to put salt on them? Do you know that the girls did at one time play hockey? The first time I played I had my thumb hit and I never played it again.
Jean
MUMPS, BIRDS, AND THE BEES
MUMPS, BIRDS, AND THE BEES
This chapter may be skipped by the young, the squeamish and by the morality brigade, but this chapter portrays something that is important in any boarder at a residential school, which his lily-white innocence comes face to face with the truth of the world. For some, it happens early, and for some, late. In my case it was early; in fact very early by any normal standard.
A boarding school is the worst place for any contagious disease. As I have mentioned, just about six months back, the chicken pox had run amok in the school, and hardly anyone was left untouched. In September 1995, it was mumps-the malady of swollen necks and boiled food. What was worse that it guaranteed a month long siesta in the hospital, hardly the reason for any celebration. So everybody tried to avert it, but how long could one run from one’s own breath. Once more, half the school was hospitalized, and familiar faces were disappearing quickly. To my ultimate horror, I awoke one morning feeling a little funny in the neck. Off I ran to the mirror, where further shock awaited me. My chin had disappeared and my neck was almost twice the normal size. I came back to bed and shut my eyes tight, trying to sleep. I hoped this was some nightmare and will go off the next morning. It wasn’t, and it was soon brought to the notice of the authority. I remember trying to get off it by making lame excuses that I had been punched by some class V boy at night, the swelling resulted from that. I don’t know how I ever thought of such a dumb excuse, but it maybe that desperation makes morons out of the brightest. So once more I was packed off to the hospi , and found bed in C ward. Two more from my class were admitted- S K and V K, both from A section. I had met both of them before actually joining the school, and hence we were a bit friendly despite being on opposite sides of a bitter strife. So three of the beds in the ward were accounted for. The left bed was occupied by somebody, because some bedclothes were strewn over it. We did not meet our ‘ward-mate’ till later that evening.
A M looked like the guy next door, and did not strike as somebody to be taken seriously. Still , God had destined him to mark out one great landmark of our life- the end of innocence. Soon after our first meeting, we were assigned our nicknames for our stay in the ward. S K became Kaalu, V K became Chinky, and I became Golu.
Then the conversation veered towards the usual tales and jokes. When we were a long way into jokes, M suddenly asked us, “Do you know what non-veg jokes are?” We replied in negative. He then asked us, “ Do you want me to narrate one?” This time we replied affirmative. His joke was not so funny by our present day standards.( For those who are itching to know the joke, it was the common joke about two frogs, one lady, a spitting serpent and a raincoat.) However, the concepts that joke formed into our minds had profound implications. Till that point of time, we three (or rather whole of the class) had a rather childish and innocent explanation for the question most parents were terrified of-“ How are babies made?” The most hopeless duffers and babies of the class said-“ The good God makes the babies in high heaven and sends them hurtling downwards for birth.” We, the knowledgeable and scientific elite of the class said-“ Rubbish… Babies grow in their mothers’ bellies after marriage, just like the mangoes fructify in summers.” The guys our age in the west must have been believing in the stories of the stork and the bees. That was quite natural for our age. But M decided it was not, and set forward to tell us the truth, in the most abject manner. He had noticed that we did not really get the punch line of his “non veg” joke. So he went for it directly. “What are you supposed to do with that thing?”, he asked, pointing towards our crotches. We replied quite innocently-“We pee with it.” “And…”,he asked. We were silent. We knew of no ‘and’s. From that moment he began educating us to the smallest details the fundamentals of human reproduction. We listened like good students, with eyes and mouths gaping wide. We went into all the dirty details, each and every one of them. We were astonished-“ How does this guy know so much.” Some refused to believe him. They were too horrified by the thought-“ Was I too……?” However most of other guys believed in the ‘new knowledge’.( We were now about 10-12 strong group, as the class IV boys from other wards too were now regular students in Professor M’s lectures.) Armed with the new knowledge, we began to see the world in a totally new light we began understanding what the guys in the movies were making so much fuss about. We started understanding the reason behind marriages and honeymoons (though in a very skewed manner-for about 5 years from then, I thought of marriage as nothing but a legal screwing permit!!!) We started understanding the double-edged jokes common in movies and soaps. In other words, a whole new world view had dawned upon us, and for that everybody felt grateful to M. Even though he was an ultimate duffer and a scoundrel of his class ( as we came to know later), we used to regard him as a sage. When there were rumors that Lord Ganesha’s idols were sipping milk,( some of the readers may be remembering that, September 1995) , we all gave him all our mess milk, so that he may offer it to the Lord. Such was the extent of our belief in his sagacity!! When we were discharged, we brought the ‘new knowledge’ to the JS. We started observing our teachers’ rooms, and if any of them had their husbands staying overnight, we listened for any suggestive sounds at night. We even tried to spread the ‘new knowledge’ amongst the ignorant masses but very few of them were ready for that. So we gave up after a few of the pioneers, who were hell bent upon sharing the facts, were promptly reported to the authorities. We did not want ourselves to be labeled as heretics!!
This chapter may be skipped by the young, the squeamish and by the morality brigade, but this chapter portrays something that is important in any boarder at a residential school, which his lily-white innocence comes face to face with the truth of the world. For some, it happens early, and for some, late. In my case it was early; in fact very early by any normal standard.
A boarding school is the worst place for any contagious disease. As I have mentioned, just about six months back, the chicken pox had run amok in the school, and hardly anyone was left untouched. In September 1995, it was mumps-the malady of swollen necks and boiled food. What was worse that it guaranteed a month long siesta in the hospital, hardly the reason for any celebration. So everybody tried to avert it, but how long could one run from one’s own breath. Once more, half the school was hospitalized, and familiar faces were disappearing quickly. To my ultimate horror, I awoke one morning feeling a little funny in the neck. Off I ran to the mirror, where further shock awaited me. My chin had disappeared and my neck was almost twice the normal size. I came back to bed and shut my eyes tight, trying to sleep. I hoped this was some nightmare and will go off the next morning. It wasn’t, and it was soon brought to the notice of the authority. I remember trying to get off it by making lame excuses that I had been punched by some class V boy at night, the swelling resulted from that. I don’t know how I ever thought of such a dumb excuse, but it maybe that desperation makes morons out of the brightest. So once more I was packed off to the hospi , and found bed in C ward. Two more from my class were admitted- S K and V K, both from A section. I had met both of them before actually joining the school, and hence we were a bit friendly despite being on opposite sides of a bitter strife. So three of the beds in the ward were accounted for. The left bed was occupied by somebody, because some bedclothes were strewn over it. We did not meet our ‘ward-mate’ till later that evening.
A M looked like the guy next door, and did not strike as somebody to be taken seriously. Still , God had destined him to mark out one great landmark of our life- the end of innocence. Soon after our first meeting, we were assigned our nicknames for our stay in the ward. S K became Kaalu, V K became Chinky, and I became Golu.
Then the conversation veered towards the usual tales and jokes. When we were a long way into jokes, M suddenly asked us, “Do you know what non-veg jokes are?” We replied in negative. He then asked us, “ Do you want me to narrate one?” This time we replied affirmative. His joke was not so funny by our present day standards.( For those who are itching to know the joke, it was the common joke about two frogs, one lady, a spitting serpent and a raincoat.) However, the concepts that joke formed into our minds had profound implications. Till that point of time, we three (or rather whole of the class) had a rather childish and innocent explanation for the question most parents were terrified of-“ How are babies made?” The most hopeless duffers and babies of the class said-“ The good God makes the babies in high heaven and sends them hurtling downwards for birth.” We, the knowledgeable and scientific elite of the class said-“ Rubbish… Babies grow in their mothers’ bellies after marriage, just like the mangoes fructify in summers.” The guys our age in the west must have been believing in the stories of the stork and the bees. That was quite natural for our age. But M decided it was not, and set forward to tell us the truth, in the most abject manner. He had noticed that we did not really get the punch line of his “non veg” joke. So he went for it directly. “What are you supposed to do with that thing?”, he asked, pointing towards our crotches. We replied quite innocently-“We pee with it.” “And…”,he asked. We were silent. We knew of no ‘and’s. From that moment he began educating us to the smallest details the fundamentals of human reproduction. We listened like good students, with eyes and mouths gaping wide. We went into all the dirty details, each and every one of them. We were astonished-“ How does this guy know so much.” Some refused to believe him. They were too horrified by the thought-“ Was I too……?” However most of other guys believed in the ‘new knowledge’.( We were now about 10-12 strong group, as the class IV boys from other wards too were now regular students in Professor M’s lectures.) Armed with the new knowledge, we began to see the world in a totally new light we began understanding what the guys in the movies were making so much fuss about. We started understanding the reason behind marriages and honeymoons (though in a very skewed manner-for about 5 years from then, I thought of marriage as nothing but a legal screwing permit!!!) We started understanding the double-edged jokes common in movies and soaps. In other words, a whole new world view had dawned upon us, and for that everybody felt grateful to M. Even though he was an ultimate duffer and a scoundrel of his class ( as we came to know later), we used to regard him as a sage. When there were rumors that Lord Ganesha’s idols were sipping milk,( some of the readers may be remembering that, September 1995) , we all gave him all our mess milk, so that he may offer it to the Lord. Such was the extent of our belief in his sagacity!! When we were discharged, we brought the ‘new knowledge’ to the JS. We started observing our teachers’ rooms, and if any of them had their husbands staying overnight, we listened for any suggestive sounds at night. We even tried to spread the ‘new knowledge’ amongst the ignorant masses but very few of them were ready for that. So we gave up after a few of the pioneers, who were hell bent upon sharing the facts, were promptly reported to the authorities. We did not want ourselves to be labeled as heretics!!
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