Do…Dodran…bi…Yeah that’s exactly what we are
celebrating. It doesn’t matter if you
couldn’t a) pronounce it b) didn’t know the meaning. This is addressed to the
erstwhile alumni of Christ Church Anglo Indian School who were taught to
pronounce it and spell it, right after they had learnt the meaning of a word by
distinguished teachers who continue to, not only live in our hearts but also in
our acts.
Some good souls got together and decided that it would be a
good idea to celebrate the milestone and the process of informing the diaspora spread
far and wide began, thanks to the people connecting tools these days like
WhatsApp & Telegram, they came in droves.
60 year olds were sharing anecdotes on managing the Traffic as teenagers
on the erstwhile Mount Road, when it was still in a manageable state, with
childlike exuberance, the 50 year olds wanted to play a game of Bank, River,
Ocean, Sea & Land (More about this game later) overrating the strength of
their aging knee caps, the 40 year olds were lamenting that the women folk were
not well represented, well what else can they think of in their 40’s!
It was a potpourri of emotional outpouring. Indeed a
pleasant sight to see the virtual banters between very eminent groups of
alumni. How each went on to be distinguished in their chosen paths is always
surprising, when looking back we were indulging in our scholastic exploits in a
school sandwiched amongst five movie halls. The Eastman colored hoardings
around us outnumbered the black boards in the school and it took some really
eminent set of teachers to make the black boards more attractive... In contemporary terms it’s like asking a kid
to study in a room with multiple play stations switched on. That’s exactly where
we had our first lessons in developing a monk like concentration on the job on
hand.
All of us would have passed through many other Institutions during
our academic pursuits after we stepped out as naïve 15 years olds from its
portals. However the strength of the bond to this particular alma mater comes a
close second to the umbilical one.
Many eminent historians have chronicled the history of the
school and I would not even attempt it. I
would confine myself to a couple of trivial experiences on the campus which I’m
sure many would identify themselves with…Here we go.
As soon as the Investiture Ceremony for a particular academic
year was over the eagerly awaited part was the duty rooster that was published.
The most sought after duty was the one guarding the narrow strip that connected
the Boys side and the Girls side part of the campus. I would like to call it
The Wagah of Christ Church sans the hostilities. It was a border that was
always manned and ‘womaned’ during the breaks. Many a crushes & many a friendships have blossomed
at that border.
Corporal punishment was so common on the campus. Never have
I seen an incident when a parent walked up and defended their wards
action. Try it today and the kids and
the parents slip into depression. The only depression we knew in those days was
the one that passed over the Bay of Bengal that later manifested itself into a
cyclone. Each of our teachers had what I call a patented approach to corporal
punishment. One still stands out vividly in my memory and yes… ouch…my ear
lobes are hurting when I think of this. The ritual starts with both your
earlobes being gently primed / massaged and was later used as a lever to pull
you back and forth, increasing the intensity on the earlobe with each to and
fro movement all along narrating the gory details of your misdemeanor. This
ended with a simultaneous release and slap on both cheeks. The timing and the synchronization
of this mode of punishment was executed with clock like precision and with the elegance
of a ballet artist. The even more painful part was that this act was performed
in the august presence of your class mates some of whom were your partners in
crime.
The games we played on the campus were also quiet unique and
very indigenous. One of them was a game Bank, River, Ocean, Sea, Land that was
played on the church steps. I have been trying to dig up the origins of this game
for many years but in vain. There surely should be an inventor and anyone who
can throw some clues on this would be suitably rewarded on the day of the
event.
While we exhibited the stiff upper lip behavior most of the
times the Madras in us came up once in a while. That’s how a game called
Kallangole was born. The game was played at the end of the Kite season. The
campus used to reverberate with the chants of ‘Any Maanja!!! Any Saada!!! Any
Twine!!! It was said with the same poise with which one would narrate an Alfred
Lord Tennyson or a Wordsworth in the class rooms.
Come 26th November we gather as a family to not
only celebrate a milestone but to share reminiscences of the days spent, honor
people who facilitated it and above all a day to give back to the institution that
has played a key part in shaping you.
