e-Waste for E-Conservation

I was all of five years old when my Mom took me to this school in the evening, holding my hand. In her other hand she held a metal trunk and a bedroll under her arm. The very tall church and buildings seemed to zoom into the sky as I scanned the surroundings. We were…

I just read Sir Mark Tully’s “Will India heed the wake-up call? and cannot help sharing his skepticism as to whether politicians will stop interfering in creating institutions for security and intelligence. I am hoping that public interest groups will issue a clarion call to action. An action where ideological differences are put to the…

Come to think about it, I was destined to school in St. Stanislaus High School. My bond with the school goes back way before I was even born. My maternal Uncle, Henry Scott was a boarder there and was well liked by Fr. Ribot. And my parents were married there in 1942. So when I…

While we boarders spent most of the year in house, we did have visiting Sundays and outing Sundays. The former was to allow relatives to visit their wards, and the latter was to allow the wards to be taken out for a day. On visiting Sundays I would watch with some envy the boys who…

After my tears rolled out of my eyes, I panned all over for my Mom but she had disappeared. I panicked and howled and tugged away from Brother Fonseca who held my hand firmly. He managed to control my hysterics and drew my attention to the small cake in my hand. Then he brought two…

It is said memory is like a child moving on a sea-shore, will pick any pebble or shell and store in its treasure. So also memory is like a person’s own literature stored in his mind. However, big or small, significant or insignificant an episode, sometimes people, places and faces are etched in your mind….