In St. Stanislaus High School, then as perhaps now, there were boys from all communities and we were peaceful. Typical competitive behavior was but natural as in any other school. The typical school day began with the prayer in the shed (as we called it then – the space between the stationary and the Donnelly…
Thinking about the most important period of my life, from the age of five to eighteen, brings on a tsunami wave of nostalgia that simply overwhelms me. Sure, this was the period that those who lived with parents at home may have gained values that guided their lives until now. But we did not live…
Who we remember from our childhood and who we forget is probably not a matter of choice. Those we yet remember may have struck us at that time as unusual people from a child’s point of view. Well here are some I yet remember. One was Prem who was in charge of keeping the toilets…
When I was little (six or seven maybe), the architecture and enormous structure of St. Peter’s Church held me in permanent awe. That awe included a kind of fear it generated, as if you were in the presence of a giant. Its interiors were even more awe inspiring, with its grand tall stained glass windows…
Believe me Tyrone your grandfather was a great man. You know why I say that. Because he was humble, very humble. If as an orphaned boarder I was given the option, I would have chosen him as my father. Everyone will have a different view on the same event or personality. All I can say…
Mea Culpa (maxima)! Yes, I confess. Hey what could I (we) do, we always seemed to be hungry. With little or no pocket money, buying extras from Bro Pinerio (a great artist) was out of the question. So was buying during school from Master Gregory’s canteen. He and his son Nobert were on the look…
Many a time during my long residence at the St. Stanislaus High School Boarding, I just wished I could get away for good. From a small 5 year old among 250 boys (many were rowdy), to a rebellious teenager is one long road, especially with the hard knocks. But on that very last day when…
On some Sundays the Prefect would announce that we would be going to Lands End for an outing. We knew what it meant, so we had old jam bottles ready. Then we treked in orderly lines in pairs on Hill Road towards St Andrews Church and along the sea face to Lands End. Once there…
Father Bulchand was a rare individual. The first impression I had of him was that he appeared to be bundle of energy. That energy seemed to come out from his stare which seemed to go right through you. He was our high school maths teacher, and though he was brilliant in the subject, he presumed…
More names keep popping in my head. There was Thomas Marshal, who I know became a really good commercial artist. Then there was Reggie, who I thought looked always very sleepy. There were the brothers Sabu and Franklin. Both were hansome, one was short and stocky and the other was thin and taller. Now come…
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