Keeping the Dear Ol' School in Mind

Lawrence Lovedale, nestled in the beautiful mountains of Nilgiris, brings back myriad memories. It’s an experience that has stayed and guided me at every turn of life long after I bid it adieu for what they call "the big bad world”. For me, the forewarned transition certainly carried meaning as I can say confidently no place seemed more secure before or after Lovedale. 

 From the letterman to our matrons, to our dear Pasha the baker, to whom we would dash during our loo breaks -- all seemed to be in cahoots with us, caring and assisting, even through our mischief-making.

 The teachers were unlike any I had experienced before. They upheld the same standards outside class that extended to being genuinely interested in our goings-on and asking after our well-being and folks back home. The relationship was built as much on campus as within the four walls of the classroom, where we were encouraged to ask questions and think out of the box.

 I will never forget one day, while in IXth grade, asking our Biology teacher (VAA) why Gandhiji was painted in green at the senior school entrance when usually in white. And the seriousness with which he explained my inane question while running late, is what I still hold dear and most of all remember. He replied, “I will tell you from my understanding. It is one of the colours of the tricolour and he was an environmentalist. I am also wondering with you, only thinking aloud.” His humbleness was a “never seen before” experience for me.

 Be it “J Ma’am” from Girls' school who came to my rescue by lending a pair of shorts from another locker after screening rows for my size, as mine came apart just before Inter-school athletics, or being sworn into secrecy by another for sharing with me her hot meal in her room at a non-meal hour, I have no qualms in saying they were a class apart, the best support group ever. 

 Not to forget our Geography teacher and a Housemaster, SVM, with whom I had the opportunity to spend time with beyond class as I was a chosen one for Geography tuition. On a particular Sunday, sitting opposite him but my gaze and attention outside the window, when almost as if reading my mind, he enquired if I would like to walk down for ice cream at tuck shop. Too embarrassed to be seen in my company at the to-be-place where all the cool couples would hang out, I politely said No! Our teachers never thought twice before pandering to our silly needs, I consider myself the luckiest to have had their influence, indulgent yet honourable!

The relationship we shared with the staff and sub-staff carried an unspoken bond of partaking in an experience that only the 750 acres lush landscape with a glorious past had to offer. There are acts framed in my mind to which words can’t do full justice: Walking to junior school on Sundays to meet two little brothers whom I struck a bond with at school hospital and sharing my tuck; in the kitchen, which was mostly out of bounds, going to check on an Akka who was pregnant and receiving an extra puff at a subsequent tea time. Then the letters that would follow at holiday time, one such taking me by surprise as it was half soggy when reached me with name blotted but a long update on the status of animals at their farm intriguing enough to be read and reread. Memories resonate of a thousand acts of connections made where the longhand still prevailed and greetings lapped over to musings. 

 It surprises me how most of my memories of the teachers were from outside the classroom. Ms Indrani Lahiri, our history teacher, who of course came to be much more than that to us, as she was only too happy to lend advice from her rich armour of experiences at any given moment. My earliest memory of baking a cake is from her kitchen with her Alsatian for company. I often wonder how well she knew each of us even with time gone by, considering the number of students she shaped. One of the best pieces of advice in my life came from her, when the time to leave school crept near, on an occasion, she said these two things that remained etched, “Enjoy yourself responsibly in college life. And always have a hobby!” Simple as it sounds, they have held me well. Especially the latter I have tried to adhere to even in my gruelling work phases, as it has helped me distance myself from getting bogged down by life. 

 During the pandemic in 2020, our batch decided to make a video of us all singing the school song. The lines I got, “Keep the dear old school in mind, Strengthen our hearts to play our parts” was a reminder to turn to everything school embodied to stay strong in heart, the only way I know and a way I was shown by the best examples a child could have asked.