Palmer Cockhouse 1973!

(click on image to enlarge)

Teacher's Medical Fund

Many have been asking about how the alumni committee intends to manage the medical fund. - here are some details from Ragini:

We intend to collect 1.5 crores and put this as the corpus. From the annual interest we will pay the premiums for 30 staff (could be 40). The premium will be 16,000 per teacher per year. It will cover most existing conditions and will cover them from 58 to 80 years of age.

We will have a meeting with the teachers and an insurance representative to explain the scheme to them. They will also have to understand that we are doing the best we can. The insurance industry is in a state of flux and so while we will do our best and explain this as well.

The second part is easy. We have a booklet being printed and id card which each teacher will get, to consult free or concessionally 80 doctors on the medical panel.

We also have an emergency quota that has been contributed entirely by an alumni and will be used at the discretion of the managing committee which basically consists of Shyla Boga and Viral Doshi our co-presidents and 3 others who are handling this -- full time !

We have raised 85 lakhs so far -with a goal of 150 lakhs - which is good progress.

In the past, we have been known as the school with all brand and no heart - together, we are changing this perception. This medical fund is one way to show our appreciation and show we care by giving to the teachers’ medical insurance fund.

A big thank you to the donors for the contributions to date.

see you all in november,

Ragini

XI A Arts - Revised listing

Hello again - the XI A (Artsy class) blog, which is archived on the right under September, has been revised, with a running commentary on most of the classmates compiled by Jo, Indira, and Behram. Please take another peek :)

As always, welcome your comments! Enjoy.

The Beat Goes On...

... at Vik's. Yet another party planning party and dress rehearsal hosted by the Maestro with scrumptious sev puri, pani puri, and wine on 12 Sep. Above, Jo and Madhu hard at work on the planned events and chasing down classmates to confirm their participation (and payments!).

The French romantics, Nina and Olivier (above) and the UK couple, Nimisha and Manoj below. And finally, Maestro Viks with his harem :) (L-R): Jo, Nimisha, Rashmi, Rupande, Maestro, and Nina.

the lovely ladies - Jo, Munna, Nina, Geetu

Back off the Saddle

Thanks for your message about your class's reunion plans, and your invitation to join you. I also had a message and a phone call from Behram Gamadia with a similar invitation! My wife Roslyn and I have been thinking hard about visiting Bombay and working on the details of our plan to come, and, sadly, have decided that we won't be able to come. We are so grateful for the warmth of your invitation and help, and are sorry we'll miss you all. (Who knows - perhaps a skype link might be possible). In any case, I hope we can stay in touch.

With all good wishes, John Tesseyman

The 3 Musketeers

The Gang of Four

XI-A (Arts)

click on the photo to enlarge
Back Row: Michele, Sandra, Juggie, Tarun, Geetu, Jo
Middle: Shernaz, Indira, Jerry, Anjoli, Ramla, Meera, Divyaa, Rita, Nina, Nusrat, Punam
Front: Wagh, Rashmi, Archie, Kavita, Sandhya, Sherry, Nepali, Maria, Rupa, Shelaila, ?, Serene, Krishnan
Seated: Patruni, Sadler, Sonia, Mathrani, Newton, Jacob, Karat, Anthony, Cherian, Nargolwala, Rao

Rashmi Lamba: guys admired this Volga princess but she looked at them as though they were melted ice-cream!

Archana: The fastest at everything – on the sports field, in academics and on the dance floor! Wish she didn’t have to rush leaving us… dearest friend.

Kavita Dhurandhar: Won the Home Science prize. Must be a great wife by now!

Sandhya Harendra: Pig tails, very chirpy and full of life

Maria Mota: Soft spoken, friendly, ever ready to help

Shelaila: Being the daughter of a prominent CA, she decided to go one better and marry an even more prominent CEO Banker.

Sheranaz Jussawalla: Wilson house sprint queen

Indira Jaisingh: Petite Savageite Racket queen, agile and exceptional on the badminton court.

Jerry Bapasola: As with most Savageites, she was academically brilliant!

Anjolie Kumar: Gentle and poised

Ramla Fazalbhoy: Talkative and full of beans

Meera Jasani: Top quality Hindi elocutionist at school.

Divya Jain: Had the most amazing birthday parties which all the class would wait eagerly for.

Rita Chhabria: A ball of spirited spunk and energy!

Nina Pandya: Sameer Chinoy worshipped the ground she walked on

Nusrat Fazalbhoy: the 1st girl in our batch to get married.

Punam Anand: Bubbly and fizzy by nature; now a Marketing professor… does she present case papers on Perrier or Coke?

Michelle Bahar: Won the art prize in 1973 looking like a Rembrandt model herself.

Sandra Long: Her surname was really apt, long legs, and great height

Rajiv Jagtiani: Batted cross handed in cricket, better known as the school tennis captain and an adept Battleship player.

Tarun Hans: Just like the headgirl in one respect… was always holding a basketball as he walked around after school.

Geetu Watumul: Brilliant, gentle, humorous and overweight in school .... has lost all that excess fat; courtesy yoga.

Jyotika Sukthankar: A cracker of a girl with tremendous enthusiasm and an infectious smile.

Countdown to Graduation

We all knew the results had to come out some time or the other. But after one false alarm, and then another, and another and another. . .

So it happened, that on the third of April, 1974, while I was listening to Elton John's 'Funeral for a Friend,' when the phone rang, I answered it, expecting it to be either one of mine or one of Ragini's friends. It was Dad. Ringing from Delhi that the results were out!

It took me a minute or two to absorb this information, and then I (and the rest of the household with me) went berserk. It must have been about 1 p. m., Mr. Newton etc. were busy enjoying their respective lunches, leaving me to bite my nails and tear my hair out on the line, while the phone rang on and on and nobody answered.

I had promised to ring up "everybody" as soon as I heard anything about the results. I first rang up Kiran, who promptly had a nervous breakdown, and then came out with the only sentence she is capable of producing on such occasions - "I'm dying. . . . . ." I left her still dying slowly, and rung up Amrita. Amrita, cool as only she knows how, said something to the effect of - "Oh, the results have come, have they?"

Waiting for my car to come, or Kiran to ring and say that her car had come; pacing up and down near the phone; ringing up school every few seconds; getting phone calls everyone minute; getting on.

Ragini's nerves - "You fool! Go and put on some perfume or do your hair or something sensible!"

Finally we all set off. Amrita had profitably spent the afternoon practising her "Third-class faces!"

In school at last, we all sat at the entrance, waiting for the postman. The rumours that flew around! Jug came running up, saying the bundle was at the G.P.O. but they were refusing to distribute them (Whereupon I promptly rushed to Mum and told her to go to the G.P.O. and investigate); Somebody else said that Fort Convent had already got their results, and four or five boys were all set to walk to Fort Convent and find out the truth behind that rumour.

We hung around in school that whole evening, trying to do anything to take our minds off the results. Mum threw down a packet of magazine proofs for checking from the third floor to where we had all camped at the bottom of the stairs, and poor Neville got the shock of his life, thinking the results had dropped from heaven! In the end we decided that the best remedy was to play a game of Basketball, so we got a game organized.

I was sure that our results were coming out between 5 and 7, and when Mr. Nepali offered me a bed I was all prepared to spend the night in school, but then Mum said 'NO' in that tone of voice which means "no" and so I changed my mind. In the end, we hung on in school till 7, singing hymns and the like, but then finally, reluctantly, made our way home.

Needless to say, none of us got any sleep that night.

The next morning we all were in school by 8.30, to find Neville and Eric already there. Between eight and ten, the whole '73 batch collected - each newcomer sliding in, eyes silently asking the dreaded question. Even people like Darius Moos had been reduced to a state of nerves. Any stranger coming in with a bundle in his arms, was jumped on by five to ten hostile boys, his bundle removed and thoroughly searched, and only then was he allowed to pass.

Rumours flew madly. Queen Mary's had got their results, B'bay International had got their results. Mr. Jacob arrived and was promptly gheraoed. Finally, everyone got sick of the waiting and wandered off to cinemas, restaurants, clubs.

Jug went up to ask Mr. Jacob something or the other. The next minute Jug was running down the stairs screaming-"Results! They've come!!" we didn't know whether to believe him or not, when we heard Mr. Jacob calling us.

I think everyone was at that time offering up prayers to the Man-Behind-The-Scenes. I know I certainly was. Kasturi came in absolutely cool and un-ruffled - "Calm in a feverish world", as Ragini aptly put it.

Mr. Jacob's voice: "Punam Anand, Literature -, Language -"

People kept coming in, faces tense, sweat very visible. All the boys came charging back from the movies, all their bright spirits magically gone. Some-one talking at the back; useless English results; hopeless Maths results somebody coughing; palms soaked in sweat; some-one restlessly pacing up and down behind me; Ragini gripping my shoulders; trying to concentrate on the pen in my hands, but failing miserably.

The waiting was sheer agony.

Mr. Jacob announcing someone in the Commerce classes results, when suddenly Behram screamed, "I've got it! I've got it! Got a 7!" A war dance of sorts followed with everyone shouting congratulations.

Geetu came in late to be greeted with the news that she had got a 7. Naazli's results - a 6! More and more results. More and more names. A never-ending list.

"Kasturi Halder - ............ agg. 6, class I." Loud cheering and congratulations.

"Anjini Kochar" and a deadly silence. - Maths 2 - agg. 7 Whereupon, I promptly burst into tears.

More and more results which gave me time to compose myself. G. V. Arun, a straight and expected 5 - the only one! Where was G. V.? 15's, 20's, second divisions, and a few third divisions. Mothers and Fathers waiting anxiously for their children's results to be called out - all keyed up, tense. I was hardly aware when the last name was called out.

It was all over - the 1973 batch had been launched.

- Anjini Kochar
(originally published in our 1973 graduation yearbook)

Indigo Deli

There is just no getting away from the fact that the batch of 1973 has woken from a deep stupor in which most of us were just too busy getting on with our adulthood and early middle-age and not even subconsciously trying to re-acquaint ourselves with the classmates we grew up with in the 1960s and early 1970s.

Suddenly, in the twinkling of an eye, the legends of our youth are finding time to re-establish ties with friends from yesteryear, Peter's enthusiasm to catch up with Farrokh and me on 15th August at his home in New Jersey being a classic case in point.

For me, the quest...pardon the word...to literally MEET all my classmates again has astonished my wife and possibly some of my friends but to me its like a crusade, a holy grail to be pursued, a magnificent obsession almost on par with my love for playing golf! Thus far, it has reminded me of more happy memories than any of my (limited!) past achievements ever do and literally become as important as caring for my family or ...going to work!!

On 29th August , Farrokh, Hussain, Kappy and I met for lunch at Indigo Deli; three addmaths wizards and one commerce clown all together in the same room together for the first time since 1968 in class 6G. Nothing much had changed....we talked and laughed about memories( which though opaque at first) burst into clarity as each of us contributed what we remembered of those innocent yet hilarious years.

As some of you may know, Farrokh is a department head at Rutgers teaching Eco and Finance and heading their Shanghai faculty, Hussain is a Hospital architect working with a leading firm of Hospital Designers and Kappy is a thriving exporter of cotton hygiene products to numerous European and American corporations and retail chains.

We had been at the table for two hours when a gentleman came and stood by our table ...I presumed he was upset and asked him if he could give us a couple of minutes more before we left. "Actually I've come to meet you all," said the rotund stranger. Apologetically, I asked as to who he was. "I'm Karl Kerawalla, you are Behram aren't you?" was the reply. The hugs and backslapping that followed were nothing short of incredible and the five of us moved on to Barrista for another hour of more coffee and "catch-up."

Karl told us about his nine years at Manipal med-school, his opening of a nursing home and its subsequent closure and best of all..his present profession ; the proud owner of a brand new hotel built and run by him!!

We finally dispersed at 4.30 or so; three and a half hours of seamless interaction brought to a close by the realization that Sunday is supposed to be a day of quality time spent with the family (in this case, the cathedral family).

-Behram

Tribute to Archie

ARCHANA BASU

14 Aug 1957 - 14 Jan 2009

Your friend is your needs answered. He is your field which you sow with love and reap with thanksgiving. And he is your board and your fireside. For you to come to him with your hunger, and you seek him for peace…when you part from your friend, you grieve not; For that which you love most in him may be clearer in his absence, as the mountain to the climber is clearer from the plain...And in the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures. For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.
- Kahil Gibran

It was a dark and cold January morning. It couldn’t have been easy getting up at the crack of dawn… it still isn’t. But we were on a mission. To make Savage the Cock House in 1973– we wanted that trophy so bad. And so it was, every day, for all of those winter months… we would be at the CCI tracks practicing and honing our running skills. On other days, Archie’s dad would drive us in his Ambassador car, to the US Club, for cross country practice.. Long distance running was not our favorite sport, but we kept at it, cos we just had to get Savage on top. For far too long our house had been left behind and we were girls on a mission – Archie, Amrita, Anjini and I.

I suspect that’s where the friendship must have grown… amid early morning dark winter days, the smell of grass with fresh dew, soiled spikes, mud, sweat and cramps.

Archie was a hurdle queen – she just glided over them… I never could quite keep up with her and invariably would knock down a couple (the clumsiness continues). She was a true sprint queen, a sports star – whether it be badminton, cross country, long jump or basketball… whatever she did, she was the best at it.

Our 4x100m relays were what legendary stuff is made of. We were way ahead of everyone, and the gap only kept getting better and better with every passing year. Me first off with the baton, Anjini 2nd, Amrita 3rd and Archie would just pick up the momentum and finish it off – a speeding cheetah no one could keep up with.

From the stadium our friendship grew, slowly and steadily and before we knew it, we were spending a lot of time together - studying at her house in Anchorage, a beautiful apartment opposite the Gateway of India, now a designated heritage property. We shared books, notes, our crushes, secrets, tuition teachers (Mr. Karanjia for Maths), a dislike for science, butterflies in our stomach before exams, a deep love for dogs, and an abiding unflinching trust, which remained till the very end.

We were also different in many ways - Arch was not much into rock music. She played the sitar. She was always very simple in her dress - never into makeup, fancy clothes, shoes...

She didn’t need it… she had that matchless inner beauty – no blush or lipstick for this Bengali girl. Armed with her trademark deep dimples and her 100 watt smile she conquered all who came into her life, with her genuine warmth and affection.

College opened up new vistas for both of us – by then her family moved to Cuffe Parade as her father retired from Shell after many years of service, and we made a whole bunch of new friends. Soon after college she married Shiv Sen (an arranged match) and moved to Muscat. Kaushik (28) and Rajeet (25) were born whilst they were living there. Six years later they migrated to Australia and have been living in Sydney since 1986.

Throughout this journey we kept in close touch; it was surreal how our lives were panning out, parallel tracks running on two sides of the globe… Both of us always worked jobs, our sons were exactly the same age, and we were forever juggling a million things during those early days when the children were growing up. Every year she would come to Bombay to meet her family, which gave us the opportunity to catch up and exchange notes, just like we had done earlier. From diapers and colic, right through the boys’ school years, the terrible teens, college, and their careers, we shared it all.

She was always so organised, a fantastic cook, very nurturing and even in remote Sydney insisted on giving her family a freshly cooked meal with hot rotis for dinner every night. I’d often chide her saying she is overdoing it and spoiling them rotten! But that was Arch for you – pushing herself to the hilt to give her family the best she could.

In 1996, the four of us went for a holiday and spent nearly 10 days with them. What a blast it was! The four adults gelled so well, whilst the four boys were busy having their own fun and kept out of our hair. Undoubtedly our family would vote it as the best vacation we’ve ever had. ALS or (Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis) hit her at the peak of her life at age 43.

A progressive, fatal disease caused by the degeneration of motor neurons that control voluntary muscle movement. ALS causes muscle weakness and atrophy throughout the body and eventually people with ALS are not able to stand or walk, get in or out of bed on their own, or use their hands and arms. In later stages of the disease, they have difficulty breathing as the muscles of the respiratory system weaken.

They had just moved into a beautiful large new house which they had built for themselves, the boys were just finding their feet at 18 and 14 years. During these years she was in and out of hospital several times; her last 2 years were especially hard as she was completely bed ridden. She couldn’t move without help, lost her ability to speak, swallow and had a tube inside her stomach for the nutrition to be given… only the mind was alert as ever, no complaints, and the smile… continued as always. Most patients afflicted with ALS don’t live longer than 3 – 5 years, she lived for 9. My friend was a born fighter, she never gave up… the boys meant too much to her.

But she was always surrounded with a lot of love and care… her family, friends, neighbors… everyone pitched in. Shiv and the boys did everything they could, to make her life comfortable and cheerful, with a lot of love and patience – birthday dinners, visits to friends … but slowly even a trip to the supermarket on the wheelchair became a huge production.

How the roles had reversed; now the boys cooked, cleaned, did the groceries and fed her, while she would give them instructions on how things should be done, from her bed, through a sound language only they could understand.

January 14 2009 she breathed her last, surrounded by her loving family in the hospital. Personally, I felt a sense of relief that she was freed of the tremendous pain, but Shiv and the boys, even though they knew this was inevitable, were completely shattered.

Kaushik now all of 28 years holds a degree in Degree in Software Engineering plus a Masters in Finance & Marketing. He has just moved into his own apartment in the heart of Sydney. Rajeet, 25 years has a double degree in Actuarial Science and Applied Finance and is an Associate Member of the Institute of Actuaries. By sheer coincidence, all three of them work at ING in Sydney.

They visited Bombay in March this year, their first visit after 7 years, primarily to meet Archie’s mother and her brother (her dad passed away 2 years ago). We spent a long leisurely day together at our place. It was just like good old times when they’d make their annual visit. But not quite the same…

Many of our classmates have written in saying they wish they had known her better. To have experienced a friendship as deep and abiding as ours, I feel truly blessed.

I know Archie is watching from above, her deep dimpled smile, content that her family is settled, healthy, getting on with their lives and delighted that her motley group of school friends are finally getting their act together after 37 years.

May her soul rest in peace.

- Jo.

P.S. Savage did not win the Cock House prize that year, Palmer did. But we won ourselves a friendship that endured a life time and beyond.