Mr Minoo Homi Batlivala

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…

There I was all of five years old, with my newest buddies and co boarders, Brian Edwards, and Bedford. We all looked similar, or so I thought. Except that I had straight hair define my cranium, Brian had this wierd red brown hair with a fancy curl on top and Bedford had a puff. I…

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….

I remember the small pastry shop opposite our school. My Aunt who visited me once on a visiting Sunday took me across and bought me a small cake. The man at the counter was a really nice guy; he recognized me as a boarder. On Sundays he would come around and ask the Fathers if…

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…