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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 really can’t remember the teacher, yet all I can remember of teachers upto the fourth class is cowboy teacher. Boy, she was the prettiest thing I saw and I fell in love for the first time. I guess she got the nickname ‘Cowboy’ because at…

‘Tis hard to imagine the medicine man old and infirm on a bed.In this child’s eyes all was well for Joe was his Peter Pan! Hard to imagine the medicine man with heart so large and full of love, old and infrm on a bed a battle weary hero whose had enough. Imagine the medicine man hale and hearty, infirm on a bed. Get up Peter Pan! The Medicine Man, our history he holds. Now give him a hand! make men in his mold! Medicine Man, our Hero Peter Pan. In a class by yourself both teacher and taught! Since…

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 had visitors and received food stuffs and pocket money. No one visited me, so you can understand. But I was engrossed with disgning and building a Dakota Airliner from icecream sticks, match boxes, cigarette packets cellopane and foil. It was to have moving parts, but…

If there’s anyone who remains firmly in my memory, it is Joe who ran the infirmary. He was always dresssed very neatly, if I remember his favorite was a khaki pant and a white bush shirt worn out (as against being worn inside the pant) and it gave the impression of being clinical. He was also well groomed with a sharp moustache and hair that did not move out of place. His speech was crisp and to the point as were his actions. I should know because I spent a lot of time in the infirmary in my early days….

Being a boarder also meant a rigorous religious upbringing. Morning prayers, 6.15 am Mass, Rosary, prayers before and after meals, night prayers, and during Lent who prayed most, We. Then there was being an Altar Boy, but all prayers to be learnt were in Latin. Somehow I managed and frequently assisted in mass from as early as 5.30 in the Priest’s Chapel, St Peter’s Church, and in the girls convent opposite our school. I assisted Fr Soler, Fr Casale among others. Since Fr Soler was quite deaf we had to answer the Latin prayers loud enough else he would turn…

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 we could distribute his flyers. And we were more than eager because he then gave us a real treat. Later I heard they went big time. Else there was the bajiya shop at the corner where we could get bajiyas, and the channa chor garam…

… seemed to have played themselves out. Or at least that’s how I saw it till some time ago. On further reflection, I found them to be a good mechanism to set or renew personal ambitions and goals. So, if the Ex-Student Association was a person; I wonder what this person’s New Year resolutions would be? The mission statement for the association can give some direction — however these are useless unless backed up with acheivable targets (or even targets to stretch for). So my resolution on behalf of this “person” is to work towards enhancing the school library; making it…

For the first five years of my life I was surrounded by women. My grandmother, spinster aunts, my mother and sister were all the family I knew, except of course for my mother’s elder sister Maggie and her children. At that time in Ahmedabad, I was put in the Kindergarten at Mount Carmel’s School where my youngest aunt was a teacher. Then one day I just walked out of the school and was presumed kidnapped or lost. That was indeed my first contact with my gaurdian Angel, who held my hand to cross broad streets and led me home nearly…

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 or three small boys like me and we all held hands as in a rosary, as Brother led us to the Locker / Bathing rooms. I had never see so many showers in one place. I should’ve said I had never seen a shower at…

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 greeted by a priest who I later learnt was Brother Fonseca. Of course I had no idea what was going to happen. But as the Brother took hold of my hand, I hugged the small cake my Mom had given me. She placed the trunk…