TRIP TO WHITEFIELD AS A KID

 

As a kid in middle school the authorities of the school had the ingenuity to take our class for an excursion to Whitefield, which we kids were all very excited about. This must be in the sixth standard  as Mrs. Grace accompanied us.The plan was to take the morning train at 9:00AM and return by the evening train at 4:00PM.

 

We visited three places , the Alembic glass factory, the Blind school and the Joy ice-cream factory.It would be worthy to point out that Bangalore in the 1970,s were full of mini plants largely making steel and a power intensive sector where many worked in various capacities. Kamani steel, Kap steel, Andhra Steel, Shivamoni steel to name some on the K R Puram Railway station to Hope farm road. Whitefield had become a very important residential hamlet by the early 1900's with many Victorian style houses.

 

What struck me most as a kid was the Alembic Glass Factory. Kamlesh Mehtha the son of the owner was a student at our school for some time.We tiny-tots were treated with courtesy by the factory staff. Alembic glass factory existed close to the Whitefeild Railway Station. We were amused to see glass manufacturing. Alembic glass company made glass bottles for the Medical industry. Large furnaces and procedures that made glass bottles were seen.

 

In retrospect I think children could be introduced to Industrial Manufacturing so that at a very formative age they get to appreciate such things and imbibe them which will shape what they do in the future.

 

 

MOHAN AND GOPAL BUILDING

IN 1971 we as a family used to live in Gopal Building an housing complex with some eight or so small but elegant houses owned by a man by name Gopal.We stayed here for nine months in all and we moved into this house because it would be closer to School.In the rain my mother with her two sons; me and my younger brother would many times return from the ITI hospital after some treatment.It was a cosy house facing eastwards and the early morning Sun blazing straight into our eyes as Children.In 1971 there was a war with our neighbour and a special siren would ooze out of the ITI factory and the Police would ask us to shut the lights because ITI complex could be a target of the enemy.This was  a frightening thing for me as a child.This house brought us good luck as thereafter we moved into our own place of residence.

Living close to this house was a lad by name MOHAN..who was my senior at the Lowry Memorial High School and an Brahmin by descent and my mother had some special affection for him.There was something bizarre about this lad..he had lost his lower left foot when he was just four years of age and was sentenced to an artificial foot ever after in spite of which he was still bubbly and gleaming always.How did he loose his Limb.In an accident in front of the Lowry Memorial School upon crossing the whitefeild road to enter the school.In his own words he described to me at times how he was dragged by the truck a reasonable stretch on the road.

Much later we lost track of Mohan....but he later became very successful I was told at some form of business.The greatness of this lad is that for a reasonable period of time he used to come searching for my mother and our family once every year and discuss old times with great feeling and nostalgia.

Mohan if you are reading this from anywhere around the World just get in touch in some form.It would be splendid.

MR.JEFFREY WILSON AT LOWRY MEMORIAL SCHOOL

In the Middle School at the LOWRY MEMORIAL HIGH SCHOOL  used to be an Anglo-Indian who used to teach English with flair and confidence and he was even adept at the Tamil  language..his name being Jefrey Wilson ..a fair and tall English looking gentleman. He left the school in 1975 for unknown reasons.

His nephew's  by name Benedict Wilson and Fredrick Wilson and a niece by name Annie used to live in tin-factory.

Let me thank him through this columns for his service. 

Mrs. Balentine at LOWRY MEMORIAL SCHOOL

At the Lowry Memorial School there was a Lady of Anglo Indian or possibly of fully Anglican descent by name Mrs. Balentine who used to teach Mathematics at Elementary School. She was a dynamic woman who had a passion for Children and must have been some fifty odd years when she was teaching at Elementary school in 1975. She used to use the phrase pitchy-maddy at erring students. She along with her older sister used to live at a residence near the old Main Gate of the School.

Some how I suddenly remembered this lady and thought she needed reckoning for  the services she rendered to us as children.

MY SCHOOL

Not far from my home,
on taking a little roam,
a vast stretch of land,
with buildings well planned.

My mother crossed the rail and road,
to get me and my brother  on time aboard,
many a time she brought us lunch,
finding us in a some student's bunch.

Oh let there be thanks to heavens above,
that thrust me into this schools love,
as i yelled and rejoiced in its precincts,
over a long decade's stint.

There was laughter, there was pain,
there was running, there was game,
there were classes and exam,
and playing in the farm.

At times I stood at the school's gate,
wondering why my father was late,
somwhere beyond seeing his trace,
bounty of joy lights  up my face.

Some wandering saint put up this place,
long before I was born,
an edifice of inner grace,
never making one feel forlorn.

There was'nt academic pressure,
of learning there was treasure,
they taught us principles of life,
to avoid future strife.

Counsel was regular, not to drink or smoke,
they said it could lead to stroke,
they taught us temperance,
which we followed ever since and hence.

Then I have seen many a school,
they go by the law and rule.
terror in the face of the child,
all behave with him wild.

Then I have seen many a school,
crampled room and stair,
pushed around like a mule,
with very little care.

There was a meery go round in the corner,
a large farm yonder,
rock solid buildings in the crux,
and many a tree in the flux.

Sometimes in an awry mood;
I take a stroll through the school for good,
flashes  of lightning of days bygone,
fill my mood like an old ballad or song.

As I ride on the road beside,
inadvertently take a look inside,
my hands bow with reverence,
for education received within its fence.

Twenty hundred students at that time,
all dressed in uniform,
multitude of young humanity,
at any time you could see.

There was a downwell in the farm,
beside an old jumblem tree,
farm and sprinklers beside,
with a grove of oaks aside.

Why doth I write of my school long bygone,
for most have gone to one such place,
but as i look at Lowry Memorial School with hindsight,
feelings galore that they did things right,
nay, with students they weren't partisan,
crafting minds with skill of an artisan,
appreciate the larger context in life they said,
at the same time needing to be well read,
never miss the spirit of joy,
when one is a little boy.
from that spirit comes a larger verve,
to face life with every nerve,
hidden deep is a sullen faith,
into which i often bathe.
and uprise every now and then.
as this world tosses me as a writing pen.
emerging with a stronger face,
some lingering skill handed down by this place.

SPORTS AT LOWRY MEMORIAL SCHOOL

There used to be an annual sporting event at the Lowry memorial School. This was conducted relegiously year after year in november and various athletic events were held and prizes distributed. I remember Ismail from hoodi village (and his brother muhammed ali) who used to win 1500mtrs race year after year . James peter, Swamy das were other sporting heroes of Lowry Memorial School of our times. Some of them used to win prizes at regional events of the karnataka state too.

I tried to be an athlete but in vain basically to bask in the glory of a winner-but never succeeded. But I came very close once. I was not winning short distance races, so i decided to try the 400 meters race. This means running two rounds around the school ground. I was doing a fairly good job and was very close to getting the third prize , had it not been for the unfair designs of my class mate Swatantra babu who was nick named cobbler and was from Kaggadasapura. He repeatedly tugged at me from behind and got the better of me; and in desperation I had to drop out at the last instance thereby losing my only chance to have won a prize at athletics. I protested at the action of my friend cobbler but the decision was against me- I should have completed the race and not drop out. In retrospect I think this decision was wrong and cobbler should have been disqualified for malpractice.

I took to playing field games later like basket ball and had good time doing so for many years.