Girls girls girls everywhere...
Where ever one turns... not a scent of a man.
Rightly put there were too many females put into one place and one can imagine what would be the result of a group of women in a place. I wonder how all our principals and teachers got us through this worldly matter of flesh and heart.
There were juicy gossips almost every day. There would be news about seniors eloping over the weekend, teachers having affairs, someone getting engaged, someone getting married and quiting work, so on and so forth..
To qoute Mrs:Thangam Jacob, "someone whose heart was beating rather too loud".
That was the way she put across all the matters concerning the heart!
A juicy gossip could be anything..even the not so hot stuff to the outside world was a hot topic to be discussed during the breaks, lunch and group study period. Among the various such stories of the hormone overdrive here are a few that I could recollect.
There was this girl in our class who came up one day and told that she was kidnapped by a road side romeo! I remember being about 14 or 15 years old then..
As she narrated her encounter with that guy we sat listening breathlessly unable to comprehend.
Was a it a fabrication or truth?!
This guy who had always followed her, on that particular day, had been on the look out for her with a car. As she cycled to school, he had stopped her, shooed her into the waiting car and rode off to some isolated bungalow.
He had then made her sit there for the whole day and had voiced his undying love to her.
He had also promised to love her and have her until the world ends!!
Geeks! Well the whole thing sounded to us like something out of the movies and story books.
We sat gaping at her, more intent to know if anything else happened to her... Then she said that he kissed her..
Oohhh!
An instant silence ensued as all eyes rolled in unison.
We didnt know whether to believe her or not!!
Then she she continued with her story.. that when it was about time school ended for the day, he had taken her back and dropped her at the same place where he had abducted her from.
But ofcourse with a threat that she never should utter a word to anyone about the day!
Wah! Quite a story!
But after listening to such a tale, none of us could concentrate in the class. Our minds were elsewhere wondering about the girl, the guy and the kiss.
I dont know what happened to that girl, because after 10th class she left school to study elsewhere and was never heard off again.
Some of our seniors when we were in eighth class tried to have some real fun with boys. These boys were from the school named Holy Cross, a convent in the wilderness of Ammapet. These boys were stylish, convent bred rich daredevils. Though both the schools were in far corners of the city, somehow the interactions among the same year students were made possible especially in class 10, 11 and 12.
Most of the boys knew who studied in which class in which school and the same was true among girls. A main reason to this sort of knowledge was that the two main convent schools Holy Angels and Cluny had boy students until standard four. Soon after that, the boys were sent away from the girls school and they usually moved to Holy Cross, because that was the city's best convent school for boys.
So obviously when the boys and girls grew up, they did remember their old classmates and ofcourse, all the old rivalry too! Also thanks to all the high school and secondary school tuitions handled mostly by the Holy Cross school teachers.
There was one Mr.Bond, who taught physics and chemistry, one Mr.Ju who taught Biology and a serious one Mr.Selvaraj who taught Maths. Now these tuitions were centers where many a love blossomed.
Based on such a type of acquaintance, a particular group of girls and boys got together and decided to have a picnic outing at Yercaud.
The dare devils choose to go on their own vehicles, up the hill. Now that was the time when Sunny's and Scooty's were introduced and the mobility of the girls had increased by 100 folds. But these foolish brats had worn their school uniforms and had gone up Yercaud, a very small hillstation bordering our little town.
Some stranger saw this group of boys and girls in their uniforms, smelt fish and had promptly informed the respective school princi's about this loitering. Blame it on the uniforms!
Sr. Angella and Bro. Britto literally flew up through the roof, when they came to know about this. The boys and girls were summoned in their respective schools and expulsion was talk of the day. I dont know what happened to the boys but the girls were strictly warned and were supervised directly by the school management and their parents. Some of them changed school and were never heard off. Others did a fair job in their exams and got married off early.
There was also a time when the girls used to pick a fight with the boys and vice versa reviving old rivalries. Many a times the smoke of the rivalries reached all of us and especially the princi's noses. (how they ever smelt it noone knew!!?? ) and then all hell would break loose. Interactions between the boys was somehow made possible because of all the school meets, sports meet and other cultural competitions like fancy fest, kalothsav etc..
St. John's, the boys school next door to ours was not a serious threat to the girls at that time as it had just started functioning. But Sr. Angela took no chances and saw to it that huge walls were built around the school campus that bordered St.John's.
Initially St.John's and Holy Angels used to share a mere wire fencing. I remember walking across the farms and going through St.John's football ground to reach the small gate of Holy Angel.
There were many of us jumping the small wall that divided both the schools and also the gates of St.John to get into the new Fairlands area.
Needless to say I was one of the jumpers.. My aunt lived in the neighbouring Fairlands area and I found every oppurtunity to jump over the walls to visit her. ;)
But all the good old happy days do come to an end ..Soon sky high walls were built , putting an end to all jumping and socializing.
Now the newly built barricades could put any jail to shame.
Thus ends a compilation of happenings of girls in the convent...
Monday, December 29, 2008
Friday, December 26, 2008
Of Zombies and Graves - Part II
Well coming back to the cemetery’s haunted stories, there was this ghost that haunted the workers during the time the school was built. The legend goes that, it had cried all night through for days together after having lost its grave amidst the school foundation. Soon the crying became so unbearable that all the priests and the nuns from the church and even some Hindu exorcists were called in to control the spirit's antics. A chicken’s throat was cut and its blood had been trailed all over the building foundation to appease the tormented soul. Not sure if the ghost got pleased with that single chicken throat though! Heard from fellow boarders that there were occasional cries in the night ! oooohhhhhhhhhh.!
The graveyard was functional having atleast one dead body in a week for a decent burial or for cremation. Many a times we would hear, the echoing drum beats as we sat in our classrooms trying hard to concentrate. After school we would see a newly laid chariot of the dead peeping above the compound wall. The brave among us would climb the wall and take a peek at the new mound of mud.
Burial just got us the stench of flowers of the dead. But the cremation was the worst. The stench of burning flesh was nauseating and frightening. The school hostels were situated adjacent to these graves and they had a tough time from preventing the smoke from entering into the dorms. They had to shut all the windows and lit incense sticks to help get rid of the lingering smell. Many of my friends who lived in the boarding used to complain that their uniforms, which they had left for drying in lines next to the big wall, had got the smell of the burnt flesh.
The burning pyre always attracted the attention of the girls in the hostel. There would be a scramble secretly in the night to peep through the dorm windows at the burning pyre. Once when someone was peeping hard through the concrete windows to see the pyre, a burning bone had jumped out with a crackle. The onlooker fell off the chair screaming, which inturn rose screams from the gang below, who in their anxiety fell on top of each other. The Warden Sr Mariya had rushed to the spot wondering if the roof had split into two. She had pulled all of them up and issued decrees for the unwomanly behavior. News came later that the girl who happened to see the jumping bone, had fallen sick and had retired to her home for a real long vacation.
Smells of dead decaying carcasses used to flood our noses once in a while and during those days many huge eagles and vultures were sited circling the graveyard and the school grounds. They had so much of temerity, that they would swoop and attack our lunch boxes too. Someone was always there to chase them away with crackers and shot guns. These huge birds brought in a waft of pungent dead decaying smell in their feathers as they flew low. Soon the vultures dimminished in their count, thanks to all the pesticides that we humans used for our crops and the cow hormone ofcourse!
Among the long corridor of bathrooms, there was one which was seldom used by the oldies. It was said to be haunted and only the poor unsuspecting new comers were made to use it. It always happened that who ever used that bathroom ended up to tell real spooky tales. The almanac of the school had it that, someone saw a real zombie crouching behind its door. No amount of cajoling and threatening from the Sisters did any good to make the girls use that particular bathroom.
Princi Sr Angela tried her best to make the local people understand that cremation was very problematic and wanted the people to either use another grave, that was quiet a walk away or to use the burial method. But ofcourse, all her pleas fell on deaf ears. Soon, whenever any big shot came to school, Sr along with the Mother Superior would provide him/her a petition about the nuisance caused by the graveyard and how it disturbed the juvenile minds. Every one of them used to assure Sr about doing something. But as long as I was in that school nothing happened, which was about eight long years.
Soon afterwards when I recently visited school,a huge compound wall around the grave attracted my attention. It had a wide metal gate that seemed to shut all the restless souls behind those iron bars. The compound wall that bordered the school and the grave had been raised in height, with metal thorns ontop for extra protection. The hostel compounds were also raised to a level that no more peeping was possible. The entire isolation of the grave with the huge walls could easily put to shame the walls of 'The Ghetto'. As I perceived the entire area, I did wonder if all the stories of the uncanny were still going on among the kids or if they had died a pitiful death. hmmm...
The graveyard was functional having atleast one dead body in a week for a decent burial or for cremation. Many a times we would hear, the echoing drum beats as we sat in our classrooms trying hard to concentrate. After school we would see a newly laid chariot of the dead peeping above the compound wall. The brave among us would climb the wall and take a peek at the new mound of mud.
Burial just got us the stench of flowers of the dead. But the cremation was the worst. The stench of burning flesh was nauseating and frightening. The school hostels were situated adjacent to these graves and they had a tough time from preventing the smoke from entering into the dorms. They had to shut all the windows and lit incense sticks to help get rid of the lingering smell. Many of my friends who lived in the boarding used to complain that their uniforms, which they had left for drying in lines next to the big wall, had got the smell of the burnt flesh.
The burning pyre always attracted the attention of the girls in the hostel. There would be a scramble secretly in the night to peep through the dorm windows at the burning pyre. Once when someone was peeping hard through the concrete windows to see the pyre, a burning bone had jumped out with a crackle. The onlooker fell off the chair screaming, which inturn rose screams from the gang below, who in their anxiety fell on top of each other. The Warden Sr Mariya had rushed to the spot wondering if the roof had split into two. She had pulled all of them up and issued decrees for the unwomanly behavior. News came later that the girl who happened to see the jumping bone, had fallen sick and had retired to her home for a real long vacation.
Smells of dead decaying carcasses used to flood our noses once in a while and during those days many huge eagles and vultures were sited circling the graveyard and the school grounds. They had so much of temerity, that they would swoop and attack our lunch boxes too. Someone was always there to chase them away with crackers and shot guns. These huge birds brought in a waft of pungent dead decaying smell in their feathers as they flew low. Soon the vultures dimminished in their count, thanks to all the pesticides that we humans used for our crops and the cow hormone ofcourse!
Among the long corridor of bathrooms, there was one which was seldom used by the oldies. It was said to be haunted and only the poor unsuspecting new comers were made to use it. It always happened that who ever used that bathroom ended up to tell real spooky tales. The almanac of the school had it that, someone saw a real zombie crouching behind its door. No amount of cajoling and threatening from the Sisters did any good to make the girls use that particular bathroom.
Princi Sr Angela tried her best to make the local people understand that cremation was very problematic and wanted the people to either use another grave, that was quiet a walk away or to use the burial method. But ofcourse, all her pleas fell on deaf ears. Soon, whenever any big shot came to school, Sr along with the Mother Superior would provide him/her a petition about the nuisance caused by the graveyard and how it disturbed the juvenile minds. Every one of them used to assure Sr about doing something. But as long as I was in that school nothing happened, which was about eight long years.
Soon afterwards when I recently visited school,a huge compound wall around the grave attracted my attention. It had a wide metal gate that seemed to shut all the restless souls behind those iron bars. The compound wall that bordered the school and the grave had been raised in height, with metal thorns ontop for extra protection. The hostel compounds were also raised to a level that no more peeping was possible. The entire isolation of the grave with the huge walls could easily put to shame the walls of 'The Ghetto'. As I perceived the entire area, I did wonder if all the stories of the uncanny were still going on among the kids or if they had died a pitiful death. hmmm...
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Of Zombies and Graves - Part I
The school walls of HA and Sharada sandwiched a graveyard, along the road to Mitapudur. One side of the school compound wall bordered the grave yard, separating it from the school campus. The school walls had a huge metal gate (main gate) opening out into the Mitapudur road. Each of the buttress pillars on either side of the 
main gate of the school had a concrete angel atop crouched in prayer position. The serene and calm looking gaurdian angels always gave an impression that they would take a sword to fight any terrespassing zombies from the grave.
The wall was bordered by an avenue of tall Palm and Pongamia trees which added to the eeriness especially on a quiet evening when the wind rustled through the leaves creating creepy and wretched noises. The wind also made the palm trees creak slowly as they moved out of heaviness. "tat rat rat tat tat..." would go the sound and it was always misinterpreted as the sound of invisible doors opening and closing slowly. This proximity of the graveyard to the school building inevitably resulted in fueling the imagination of budding story tellers as a result adding chapters to the almanac of the uncanny.
Haunted and spooky tales were whispered along the corridors among small groups of wide eyed girls during the recess. The most horrifying of all tales was that, the whole school was built upon an old cemetery. Ancient graves had been dug up to lay the foundation of the school and the bones thrown away with no regard to the dead. The story was so spun that it was akin to the digging of a huge holocaust grave, letting all the spooky restless ghosts out. The after effect of these stories made any little girl treading the school grounds, miss a heart beat at every twig that snapped underfoot likening it to the crunching of bones. The story tellers always came up with accurate details on where exactly which type of bone was found causing chills to run down one's spine. Any oddly shaped stone that was picked up was immediately named as a bone fossil.
Tales related to ghosts and excorcism was narrated with much ado. When any one found an iron nail sticking out of a tree trunk, hurried whispers on exorcism and how the evil spirit was nailed to the tree, spread like wild fire. Such trees were always cordoned off. No one dared near the tree again. There was even a talk that the skeleton in the physics lab was found in one of these unknown graves that was dug up. You might wonder what a s
keleton did in a physics lab. Once upon a time when the school had only the “big” building, the physics and the biology labs were combined in one large room. All the biological specimens like babies in different stages of development in bottles were also placed in the far corner of this room. I always used to wonder about these babies. What would they have grown up into if they had seen life out of their mother’s womb? Why did they have to end up in bottles in our school lab? Why were they all forever frozen in time? Well I always got spooked with these thoughts (even now) that I will let them go for now.
main gate of the school had a concrete angel atop crouched in prayer position. The serene and calm looking gaurdian angels always gave an impression that they would take a sword to fight any terrespassing zombies from the grave.The wall was bordered by an avenue of tall Palm and Pongamia trees which added to the eeriness especially on a quiet evening when the wind rustled through the leaves creating creepy and wretched noises. The wind also made the palm trees creak slowly as they moved out of heaviness. "tat rat rat tat tat..." would go the sound and it was always misinterpreted as the sound of invisible doors opening and closing slowly. This proximity of the graveyard to the school building inevitably resulted in fueling the imagination of budding story tellers as a result adding chapters to the almanac of the uncanny.
Haunted and spooky tales were whispered along the corridors among small groups of wide eyed girls during the recess. The most horrifying of all tales was that, the whole school was built upon an old cemetery. Ancient graves had been dug up to lay the foundation of the school and the bones thrown away with no regard to the dead. The story was so spun that it was akin to the digging of a huge holocaust grave, letting all the spooky restless ghosts out. The after effect of these stories made any little girl treading the school grounds, miss a heart beat at every twig that snapped underfoot likening it to the crunching of bones. The story tellers always came up with accurate details on where exactly which type of bone was found causing chills to run down one's spine. Any oddly shaped stone that was picked up was immediately named as a bone fossil.
Tales related to ghosts and excorcism was narrated with much ado. When any one found an iron nail sticking out of a tree trunk, hurried whispers on exorcism and how the evil spirit was nailed to the tree, spread like wild fire. Such trees were always cordoned off. No one dared near the tree again. There was even a talk that the skeleton in the physics lab was found in one of these unknown graves that was dug up. You might wonder what a s
keleton did in a physics lab. Once upon a time when the school had only the “big” building, the physics and the biology labs were combined in one large room. All the biological specimens like babies in different stages of development in bottles were also placed in the far corner of this room. I always used to wonder about these babies. What would they have grown up into if they had seen life out of their mother’s womb? Why did they have to end up in bottles in our school lab? Why were they all forever frozen in time? Well I always got spooked with these thoughts (even now) that I will let them go for now............... read on in Part II
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Sacchu - The Lovable Frankenstein of HA
Sacchu, the Frankenstein of HA, taught us English and History. Her very presence commanded admiration and fear among everyone, be it a student or a teacher. Girls shivered at the mere thought of her handling the subject. There would be a scramble starting every school year, to find out if Sacchu handled any subject. Many a sad sigh and despondent faces resulted if her name was on the timetable list. A lean tall dark lady who always wore stiff cotton sarees without pinning her ‘pallu’ looked like a witch without a broom. How she managed to get her sarees so stiff and crumple free no one knew. She had an idiosyncratic style of pulling her pallu over her breasts sometimes so awkwardly that we could see her blouse and chest! Her loud cackling laughter could make the most powerful, break into a sweat. She was terror personified. Instance silence used to prevail whenever she entered the arena of the classroom or the grounds. Much was the fear instilled due to her unique corporal punishments of kneeling and hard beats on the knuckles and foul language. There cannot be anyone during that period, not having experienced some of Sachhu's punishments.
Though the fear was deep rooted, many of us loved her to the core. It was the way she taught the subject. She would take us into the story and make us live it. I do remember the
Story of the Sindbad the Sailor, in my eighth std when we first encountered her in English class. She made us soar with the story; experience Sindbad’s adventures as our very own. History was equally interesting when it came to Tipu-Sultan, the Battle of Palsy, The East India Trading Company, I grew to love the subject because of the force with which she taught us, the passion, the life, the love she brought into the lessons. Her grammer was impeccable. But soaring high in the world of fantasy we crashed landed in every class, that’s when the home works came by hard. We always felt if she ever experienced a sadistic pleasure in torturing us with so much to read and write.
If a student hadn’t completed the work assigned by Sacchu then that was a day the girl rather be not in class. Girls feigned sickness and ran to the sick room. But she would follow or send someone to bring the girl back to class as she never believed anyone falling sick. Once the girl was in class the drama would start. Words so foul would be uttered that it would create silent Oohs and Aahs from the rest and which would be followed by punishments. "Kneel down, I say. How dare you try to trick me, Keep kneeling for the whole day" "Stand on the bench for a week. If you happen to sit you are done for" Well if the girl had her periods she would be done for anyway!
But kneeling was better when it came to her most terrifying and humiliating of punishments. It was the worst corporal punishment a girl can ever experience in her life. She would order the victim to remove her shirt and stand out in the school corridor with just her chemise and skirt. I do remember a girl, one of my classmates, who wept so desperately and refused to remove her shirt. But this terror of a woman went over and ripped her shirt apart and made the weeping girl stand in the corridor. It was a real pathetic site indeed. She never bothered about the psychological pain the girl would endure. This punishment was meted out to even the senior girls. No one escaped her. Not the first ranker nor the meek girl nor the cute girl. She never showed any special affection to anyone whosoever it may be. I think that’s the reason many of the poor girls did well in her class and the rich ones hated her and nick named and mocked her with all their might.
Her past was dug up to find out who she really was. Some told that she had a broken relationship and hence she didn’t marry. Some stories portrayed her as a martyr for her family who took care of her many sisters and an ailing mother, as her father had died at a very young age. Hmm... India is no place to be for a spinster. Parents whose children experienced the worst punishments said that having had no experience of the joy of motherhood, she must have got hardened and behaved in that fashion.
There was one incident that changed her altogether though. She was a complete different person after that. Way back the school had organized an 'All India Trip'. It was mainly owing to Sr. Jacob's interest that this was made possible. Still then the school had never had an 'All India Tour' and I don’t think it had another one after that. About 100 girls from the senior classes and a few from my class were taken abroad for the trip. Dad was dead against the whole idea of me going to an all India trip mainly because of my problematic periods. I had come of age that quarter as a result of which my parents were always on the edge when it came to going out and freaking out. Well that would be a completely different topic to handle and I would do it much later.
Well during this India trip, some of the younger and newer teachers had the guts to ask the students to make a small skit of the school and its teachers. One class mate of mine did a real good job of acting like Miss. Sacchu. She had enacted the way Miss. Sacchu gave away the corporal punishments and used foul language. One of her favorite phrases "You Dirty Pig" was enacted with such reality that it elicited much appreciation from the viewers. But news leaked out to Sacchu. Sacchu went on leave for some time and when she came back she looked very depressed and was a real sorry state to see. When she entered a big hush followed and she stood there in all her glory and said "I know what happened in the trip. You girls are too young to understand the meaning of hurting and passion for teaching. If you dislike me to that extent I would rather not take class for you. I know there is a mistake on my side too. And I will see to that I do not repeat the same." Saying so, she took her last class - a poem by PB Shelley. She refused to handle English for our class after that. I should say many of us were irritated on that particular girl who was the reason to this. But many sighed a relief silently.
I regret to this day that I had missed her class because of my unfortunate luck of being in the same class as this girl who was the cause of her transformation. She was the epitome of teaching and no one came to her level in any manner. Soon news hit our ears that she never again used the term "You Dirty Pig" neither did she order anyone to remove their shirts!
As I graduated to higher classes, she remembered me more may be because of my exposure to skit and painting competitions. Though she never took class for my set, she always talked to some of us in the class. I remember her coming running to meet me and my mom when we had gone for a school get together once. After I left school, I heard that she had retired and had gone to live in her stately home with her old mother. I still wonder whenever I think of school where and how she would be now and always have this feeling to again meet her once at least for a brief moment just to say "I love you Sachhu Miss.".
Though the fear was deep rooted, many of us loved her to the core. It was the way she taught the subject. She would take us into the story and make us live it. I do remember the
Story of the Sindbad the Sailor, in my eighth std when we first encountered her in English class. She made us soar with the story; experience Sindbad’s adventures as our very own. History was equally interesting when it came to Tipu-Sultan, the Battle of Palsy, The East India Trading Company, I grew to love the subject because of the force with which she taught us, the passion, the life, the love she brought into the lessons. Her grammer was impeccable. But soaring high in the world of fantasy we crashed landed in every class, that’s when the home works came by hard. We always felt if she ever experienced a sadistic pleasure in torturing us with so much to read and write.If a student hadn’t completed the work assigned by Sacchu then that was a day the girl rather be not in class. Girls feigned sickness and ran to the sick room. But she would follow or send someone to bring the girl back to class as she never believed anyone falling sick. Once the girl was in class the drama would start. Words so foul would be uttered that it would create silent Oohs and Aahs from the rest and which would be followed by punishments. "Kneel down, I say. How dare you try to trick me, Keep kneeling for the whole day" "Stand on the bench for a week. If you happen to sit you are done for" Well if the girl had her periods she would be done for anyway!
But kneeling was better when it came to her most terrifying and humiliating of punishments. It was the worst corporal punishment a girl can ever experience in her life. She would order the victim to remove her shirt and stand out in the school corridor with just her chemise and skirt. I do remember a girl, one of my classmates, who wept so desperately and refused to remove her shirt. But this terror of a woman went over and ripped her shirt apart and made the weeping girl stand in the corridor. It was a real pathetic site indeed. She never bothered about the psychological pain the girl would endure. This punishment was meted out to even the senior girls. No one escaped her. Not the first ranker nor the meek girl nor the cute girl. She never showed any special affection to anyone whosoever it may be. I think that’s the reason many of the poor girls did well in her class and the rich ones hated her and nick named and mocked her with all their might.
Her past was dug up to find out who she really was. Some told that she had a broken relationship and hence she didn’t marry. Some stories portrayed her as a martyr for her family who took care of her many sisters and an ailing mother, as her father had died at a very young age. Hmm... India is no place to be for a spinster. Parents whose children experienced the worst punishments said that having had no experience of the joy of motherhood, she must have got hardened and behaved in that fashion.
There was one incident that changed her altogether though. She was a complete different person after that. Way back the school had organized an 'All India Trip'. It was mainly owing to Sr. Jacob's interest that this was made possible. Still then the school had never had an 'All India Tour' and I don’t think it had another one after that. About 100 girls from the senior classes and a few from my class were taken abroad for the trip. Dad was dead against the whole idea of me going to an all India trip mainly because of my problematic periods. I had come of age that quarter as a result of which my parents were always on the edge when it came to going out and freaking out. Well that would be a completely different topic to handle and I would do it much later.
Well during this India trip, some of the younger and newer teachers had the guts to ask the students to make a small skit of the school and its teachers. One class mate of mine did a real good job of acting like Miss. Sacchu. She had enacted the way Miss. Sacchu gave away the corporal punishments and used foul language. One of her favorite phrases "You Dirty Pig" was enacted with such reality that it elicited much appreciation from the viewers. But news leaked out to Sacchu. Sacchu went on leave for some time and when she came back she looked very depressed and was a real sorry state to see. When she entered a big hush followed and she stood there in all her glory and said "I know what happened in the trip. You girls are too young to understand the meaning of hurting and passion for teaching. If you dislike me to that extent I would rather not take class for you. I know there is a mistake on my side too. And I will see to that I do not repeat the same." Saying so, she took her last class - a poem by PB Shelley. She refused to handle English for our class after that. I should say many of us were irritated on that particular girl who was the reason to this. But many sighed a relief silently.
I regret to this day that I had missed her class because of my unfortunate luck of being in the same class as this girl who was the cause of her transformation. She was the epitome of teaching and no one came to her level in any manner. Soon news hit our ears that she never again used the term "You Dirty Pig" neither did she order anyone to remove their shirts!
As I graduated to higher classes, she remembered me more may be because of my exposure to skit and painting competitions. Though she never took class for my set, she always talked to some of us in the class. I remember her coming running to meet me and my mom when we had gone for a school get together once. After I left school, I heard that she had retired and had gone to live in her stately home with her old mother. I still wonder whenever I think of school where and how she would be now and always have this feeling to again meet her once at least for a brief moment just to say "I love you Sachhu Miss.".
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Garden- The Mango Tree, Clara and the Dogs.
Having had a cup of coffee, which has elated my sleepy mood to a satisfactory level for thinking and jotting down thoughts, I decided to get busy on the blog. But the thoughts about what to write did not quite strike me even now. Well there were so many things that happened back at school. And I am trying my best to recollect them and put them here.
How about the school garden?
Yeah, thats a good topic to loiter on. I had always loved the school garden and had loved standing on the grilled corridors, watching the flora and fauna there. The entire "Big" building overlooked the gardens. The building was shaped like a letter C, with sharp corners though - Something like a square without a side. Where ever one stood, in any of the floors of the "Big" building, one would have a prime view of the garden. The garden was square-ish, with a lowly old mossed wall at one end which separated the school from the farm lands. The farms added to the richness of the garden, with an avenues of coconut trees amid a thick undergrowth of grass.
I had known two princi 's during the time I spent in school, which was about eight years. I had joined HA in my 5th class and was a totally alien person to convent education unlike the local veterans there, who had graduated from 'Little' school to the 'Big' school. The 'Little' school had classes LKG, UKG and Std I. It was a rented building located near the New-Fairlands junction. The Big school was deeply embeded inside the Mittapudur area, sandwiched between two other schools - Sharada and St.Johns'. Recently I heard, the 'Little' school had been moved into the main campus and along with a fully functional preschool and creche.
Well, coming back to the gardens and princi's, all the princi's loved prancing around the garden looking at each flower and leaf , instructing the school gardeners Cla
ra akka and her husband Periyanna. Sr. Jacob, though she delighted herself walking around the garden in the evenings, did not introduce any big changes. It was Sr. Angella who spent so much time and money on the garden, that it was soon a real beauty to reckon with. Under her management, Clara akka and Periyanna laboured hard in the gardens making it look so colorful. Any time of the day one could see them in one of these tasks - repotting, planting, weeding, watering, pruning, repositioning, digging, fertilising and spraying insecticide, the list was endless.
The convent had a bigger garden. But we were not allowed to enter into it unless we had official permission to go into the convent. I had been into the convent twice. Once to meet Sr.Priya who was our art faculty, and once when I had an accident and broken some skin, I was taken in and fed with the choicest of doughnuts and treated with utmost care and attention. The convent was very beautiful, clean, neat and serene.
This main garden, that is the one between the square-ish 'Big' building, had two huge trees in each corner - a butter fruit tree and an old mango tree that threatened to uproot any adjacent buildings with its massiveness. This mango tree was so old with a bulky trunk with a slimy layer of green moss. It had thick steeping low branches. During summer it was loaded with mangoes and a sigh always elicited out of anyone who happened to look at its fat ripe fruits. I am sure every one of the students have had tried their best to steal a fruit or two from either of the trees atleast once or atleast had a thought of it deep down them. The success rate of getting a fruit was very very less though.
Once some of my immediate seniors were caught stealing mangoes from the convent gardens and they were made to kneel on the mud along with Periyanna. Periyanna was also punished because he had taken pity on these girls and let them go when they were caught picking mangoes. How all of them got caught was a big mystery. It was really silly and funny to see a big man with thick curly moustache kneeling along with the girls in the mud!
The garden had three entrances and a mud path around it. One of the entrances was directly in front of the princi's room. Then there was a straight path that connected the right wing of the building with the left wing. The Teachers room was in the right wing and usually they used to cross the path to come to the left wing. It was a privilige granted only to teachers and the sisters. As students we were strictly forbiden to enter the gardens through any of these entrances. It was scarilege of the highest order if we ever did cross! Thus the simple act of hoodwinking anyone and running across it gave us immense pleasure. If caught the punishments were severe ofcourse. It included kneeling on the mud right there on the path. Kneeling on a concrete floor is much easier than kneeling on the mud. The knees would go red instantly and the skirt would not be long enough to pull it under the knees for padding. Inspite of this the girls did run down the path every once in a while. A quick look at the princi's room would determine if she was around or not. The clue was the fan. If the fan wasn't on, then there would be dash across the garden path. This was the easiest path because the alternate way to go to the other wing was a huge round about of climbing staircases and walking around. But alas, Sister sometimes didnt have her fan switched on. And then she would spot a green shadow dashing by and would be up in a jiffy to catch hold of the imp!
Perianna and Clara akka were man and wife and they lived inside the school campus. Their daughter was in school with us and she would join her parents in the garden activities every evening much to the envy of all the other girls who were forbidden to enter the garden. She had full liberty and would even walk around touching the flowers and leaves!
The garden had the choicest collection of flowering plants
. There were rose bushes, tulips lining all the way across the paths, hibiscus in every shade possible, blue bells and orange trumphet flowers creeping up the pillars, green wall creepers, bountiful array of colorful crotans, and many more exotic plants with hard to pronounce names. The burst of colors in the sun would give such a cheerful appearance, immediately touching anyones heart! The beauty of the gardens always made me wonder if there were any little fairies living among the flowers in the garden, waving around their magical touch on to the flowers and giving them a magical sparkle in the sun!
In the middle of the garden was a huge wooden cross with a replica of the Christ nailed on to it. The cross was placed inbetween the towering trees, with an awesome view from the pinci's room. A curved iron canopy around the cross with ferns creeping around it made it look very pristine and enchanting. Enclosing the area of the cross, was a small circular pond housing bright colorful fishes and turtles. I had sat there a couple of times by the pond and looked at the fishes swimming around in vibrant color. One day I was staying late in school for some reason I dont remember, when Sr. Angella spotted me. She was in the garden on her daily walk around it. She called me up and we both sat on the concrete support of the pond and talked idly. She was curious to know about how I was doing at school and at home. I remember answering her half mindedly with my attention fully focused on the gliding fishes!
During our get together in 10th class, the garden was opened to us. We had the full liberty to party there and take snaps. After I graduated, when I happened to visit the school, I did have an oppurtunity to step into the garden. Clara akka beaconed me into the garden where she was working and I sat there talking to her for sometime. Thats when I spoted those doberman pups. She told me that Sr.Angella had adopted them and they were now the apple of her eye. And she never allowed anyone pet them except Clara (ofcourse!) and they always pranced around her room sleeping on her chairs! Imagine the audacity of the dogs! When we shivered and scrambled around her room wishing for an invisible coat, these dogs slept on her cushions and chairs!!
Well, on the day of my visit Sr. was out of station. Having an natural instinct for dogs, I easily befriended both the pups: though others were a bit worried about them bitting some of my flesh off. I enjoyed myself that day playing with the pups, running down the school corridor, shrieking aloud as the pups chased trying to nip at my legs. We played peekaboo and chased each other, ran in and out of the princi's room, into the garden, until the dogs got tired. Wow I never imagined I could do all that running around in school. Clara was a bit worried about being seen and sacked mainly because of the undue attention the joyful yelps might have attracted. But she took the liberty and enjoyed that day. She has never forgotten me after that. Everytime I visited school, as an alumnus, we would recollect that incident with the dogs and laugh out loud.
Oh, how I wish I had some snaps of the school and garden to put them here. If out there some old HA student could send me some snaps of school and garden it would be awesome. You can mail me at effa.smith@gmail.com.
Yeah, thats a good topic to loiter on. I had always loved the school garden and had loved standing on the grilled corridors, watching the flora and fauna there. The entire "Big" building overlooked the gardens. The building was shaped like a letter C, with sharp corners though - Something like a square without a side. Where ever one stood, in any of the floors of the "Big" building, one would have a prime view of the garden. The garden was square-ish, with a lowly old mossed wall at one end which separated the school from the farm lands. The farms added to the richness of the garden, with an avenues of coconut trees amid a thick undergrowth of grass.
I had known two princi 's during the time I spent in school, which was about eight years. I had joined HA in my 5th class and was a totally alien person to convent education unlike the local veterans there, who had graduated from 'Little' school to the 'Big' school. The 'Little' school had classes LKG, UKG and Std I. It was a rented building located near the New-Fairlands junction. The Big school was deeply embeded inside the Mittapudur area, sandwiched between two other schools - Sharada and St.Johns'. Recently I heard, the 'Little' school had been moved into the main campus and along with a fully functional preschool and creche.
Well, coming back to the gardens and princi's, all the princi's loved prancing around the garden looking at each flower and leaf , instructing the school gardeners Cla
ra akka and her husband Periyanna. Sr. Jacob, though she delighted herself walking around the garden in the evenings, did not introduce any big changes. It was Sr. Angella who spent so much time and money on the garden, that it was soon a real beauty to reckon with. Under her management, Clara akka and Periyanna laboured hard in the gardens making it look so colorful. Any time of the day one could see them in one of these tasks - repotting, planting, weeding, watering, pruning, repositioning, digging, fertilising and spraying insecticide, the list was endless. 
The convent had a bigger garden. But we were not allowed to enter into it unless we had official permission to go into the convent. I had been into the convent twice. Once to meet Sr.Priya who was our art faculty, and once when I had an accident and broken some skin, I was taken in and fed with the choicest of doughnuts and treated with utmost care and attention. The convent was very beautiful, clean, neat and serene.
This main garden, that is the one between the square-ish 'Big' building, had two huge trees in each corner - a butter fruit tree and an old mango tree that threatened to uproot any adjacent buildings with its massiveness. This mango tree was so old with a bulky trunk with a slimy layer of green moss. It had thick steeping low branches. During summer it was loaded with mangoes and a sigh always elicited out of anyone who happened to look at its fat ripe fruits. I am sure every one of the students have had tried their best to steal a fruit or two from either of the trees atleast once or atleast had a thought of it deep down them. The success rate of getting a fruit was very very less though.
Once some of my immediate seniors were caught stealing mangoes from the convent gardens and they were made to kneel on the mud along with Periyanna. Periyanna was also punished because he had taken pity on these girls and let them go when they were caught picking mangoes. How all of them got caught was a big mystery. It was really silly and funny to see a big man with thick curly moustache kneeling along with the girls in the mud!
The garden had three entrances and a mud path around it. One of the entrances was directly in front of the princi's room. Then there was a straight path that connected the right wing of the building with the left wing. The Teachers room was in the right wing and usually they used to cross the path to come to the left wing. It was a privilige granted only to teachers and the sisters. As students we were strictly forbiden to enter the gardens through any of these entrances. It was scarilege of the highest order if we ever did cross! Thus the simple act of hoodwinking anyone and running across it gave us immense pleasure. If caught the punishments were severe ofcourse. It included kneeling on the mud right there on the path. Kneeling on a concrete floor is much easier than kneeling on the mud. The knees would go red instantly and the skirt would not be long enough to pull it under the knees for padding. Inspite of this the girls did run down the path every once in a while. A quick look at the princi's room would determine if she was around or not. The clue was the fan. If the fan wasn't on, then there would be dash across the garden path. This was the easiest path because the alternate way to go to the other wing was a huge round about of climbing staircases and walking around. But alas, Sister sometimes didnt have her fan switched on. And then she would spot a green shadow dashing by and would be up in a jiffy to catch hold of the imp!
Perianna and Clara akka were man and wife and they lived inside the school campus. Their daughter was in school with us and she would join her parents in the garden activities every evening much to the envy of all the other girls who were forbidden to enter the garden. She had full liberty and would even walk around touching the flowers and leaves!
The garden had the choicest collection of flowering plants
. There were rose bushes, tulips lining all the way across the paths, hibiscus in every shade possible, blue bells and orange trumphet flowers creeping up the pillars, green wall creepers, bountiful array of colorful crotans, and many more exotic plants with hard to pronounce names. The burst of colors in the sun would give such a cheerful appearance, immediately touching anyones heart! The beauty of the gardens always made me wonder if there were any little fairies living among the flowers in the garden, waving around their magical touch on to the flowers and giving them a magical sparkle in the sun!
In the middle of the garden was a huge wooden cross with a replica of the Christ nailed on to it. The cross was placed inbetween the towering trees, with an awesome view from the pinci's room. A curved iron canopy around the cross with ferns creeping around it made it look very pristine and enchanting. Enclosing the area of the cross, was a small circular pond housing bright colorful fishes and turtles. I had sat there a couple of times by the pond and looked at the fishes swimming around in vibrant color. One day I was staying late in school for some reason I dont remember, when Sr. Angella spotted me. She was in the garden on her daily walk around it. She called me up and we both sat on the concrete support of the pond and talked idly. She was curious to know about how I was doing at school and at home. I remember answering her half mindedly with my attention fully focused on the gliding fishes!
During our get together in 10th class, the garden was opened to us. We had the full liberty to party there and take snaps. After I graduated, when I happened to visit the school, I did have an oppurtunity to step into the garden. Clara akka beaconed me into the garden where she was working and I sat there talking to her for sometime. Thats when I spoted those doberman pups. She told me that Sr.Angella had adopted them and they were now the apple of her eye. And she never allowed anyone pet them except Clara (ofcourse!) and they always pranced around her room sleeping on her chairs! Imagine the audacity of the dogs! When we shivered and scrambled around her room wishing for an invisible coat, these dogs slept on her cushions and chairs!!
Well, on the day of my visit Sr. was out of station. Having an natural instinct for dogs, I easily befriended both the pups: though others were a bit worried about them bitting some of my flesh off. I enjoyed myself that day playing with the pups, running down the school corridor, shrieking aloud as the pups chased trying to nip at my legs. We played peekaboo and chased each other, ran in and out of the princi's room, into the garden, until the dogs got tired. Wow I never imagined I could do all that running around in school. Clara was a bit worried about being seen and sacked mainly because of the undue attention the joyful yelps might have attracted. But she took the liberty and enjoyed that day. She has never forgotten me after that. Everytime I visited school, as an alumnus, we would recollect that incident with the dogs and laugh out loud.
Oh, how I wish I had some snaps of the school and garden to put them here. If out there some old HA student could send me some snaps of school and garden it would be awesome. You can mail me at effa.smith@gmail.com.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Holy Angels
As I browsed aimlessly through various blogs, I came across many individual records of old school musings. Reading some of those blogs made me relive my school days. Hence motivated, I started writing on everything I could remember about my school. Soon nostalgia reigned.
The only proper school memories, I could recollect were those from the high school I was in, as my junior years were spent jumping from one school to another, thanks to my father’s transferrable job.
Holy Angels - a simple convent school located in a niche, among a group of schools in the New-Fairland’s area, in Salem, is the place where most of these stories happened. Way back then the school was very beautiful - with lots of green hedges bordering its fences and flowery creepers climbing those fences. The school was literally hidden among those thickets of greenery. But as years progressed, the school has changed into a more prim and proper concrete jungle sporting neat aisles, lots of new buildings and new lavatories! (Finally!!)
I remember vividly my first day at school when I had gone to appear for the entrance exam for class five. That was my first encounter with Sr.Angella. That very day I was mesmerized by her charm and felt a deep connection towards her. Though I have criticized some of her actions in this blog, I do strongly have a faith that holds her on a pedestal in my heart! She is the woman who transformed this school to an extent that it stands today in all its glory achieving both academically and in sports. Sixteen years she has reigned as the dictator of the school, molding it fiercely as no one has ever done it before.
Having studied in a Montessori school prior to Holy Angels, the regular matriculation mode was very difficult to cope up with. But thanks to the wonderful attention of Sr. Angella, Mrs. Padma Shankar and Mrs Jecintha (Small school), that I was able to move on without many hitches.
(I am indebted to Mrs. Padma Shankar as she was the first teacher who identified the little artist in me and helped me nurture and develop it. )
The love for the school set deeper roots as I moved on among the best of teachers and students and an organised convent lifestyle. My freedom was never curtailed (except when it came to exams!) and the school opened horizons for thinking big. Thanks to teachers like Mrs. Sundari Jason, Miss. Sachu, Mrs. Lalitha David and Miss. Mini Pillai.
The only proper school memories, I could recollect were those from the high school I was in, as my junior years were spent jumping from one school to another, thanks to my father’s transferrable job.
Holy Angels - a simple convent school located in a niche, among a group of schools in the New-Fairland’s area, in Salem, is the place where most of these stories happened. Way back then the school was very beautiful - with lots of green hedges bordering its fences and flowery creepers climbing those fences. The school was literally hidden among those thickets of greenery. But as years progressed, the school has changed into a more prim and proper concrete jungle sporting neat aisles, lots of new buildings and new lavatories! (Finally!!)
I remember vividly my first day at school when I had gone to appear for the entrance exam for class five. That was my first encounter with Sr.Angella. That very day I was mesmerized by her charm and felt a deep connection towards her. Though I have criticized some of her actions in this blog, I do strongly have a faith that holds her on a pedestal in my heart! She is the woman who transformed this school to an extent that it stands today in all its glory achieving both academically and in sports. Sixteen years she has reigned as the dictator of the school, molding it fiercely as no one has ever done it before.
Having studied in a Montessori school prior to Holy Angels, the regular matriculation mode was very difficult to cope up with. But thanks to the wonderful attention of Sr. Angella, Mrs. Padma Shankar and Mrs Jecintha (Small school), that I was able to move on without many hitches.
(I am indebted to Mrs. Padma Shankar as she was the first teacher who identified the little artist in me and helped me nurture and develop it. )
The love for the school set deeper roots as I moved on among the best of teachers and students and an organised convent lifestyle. My freedom was never curtailed (except when it came to exams!) and the school opened horizons for thinking big. Thanks to teachers like Mrs. Sundari Jason, Miss. Sachu, Mrs. Lalitha David and Miss. Mini Pillai.
But alas I did have a few sore experiences too. There were a few moronic teachers, who showed immense partiality to the rich and the white skinned (yeah racism does exist everywhere!), that it paved way for deep hatred and desire to drop out of school. If not for those weeds, I wouldn’t have the ugly sore among the rich green memories now!
Thus here I etch all the love and hatred I had for everything that was school.
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