Further thoughts from an Englishman at Sainik School

Once again my thanks to Reji for allowing me to use his blog as a vehicle for my reminiscences.

I was very touched to receive so many emails in response to my original piece and I hope that I have replied to all of them. The Amaravian community spreads far and wide and I had responses from the US, Singapore and various parts of the UK as well as, of course from, India.

Here are some further thoughts on looking at the photos again.

Here you see the famous bike that I learned to ride. I think that I look pretty good in that lunghi. I am sure I still have it folded up in a box in the loft along with a blue and white “hippy style” shoulder bag that I used on my travels. The chappals I think I bought from a street vendor somewhere. The soles were made from bits cut from old car tyres. One of my correspondents mentioned my banian (now that’s a word I had forgotten). To read more about the Banian and what it is called in North America, Please Click here (Reji)

The car parked outside the academic building was Maj Menon’s. An internet search tells me it was a Fiat 1100 Delight. Maj Bhoopal had one too but Col Thamburaj, as befitted his higher rank, had an Ambassador. A teacher called Soundarajan (?) had a motorbike but all the other staff had pedal bikes. Strange to think that all those teachers who were highly educated and had secure reasonably well paid jobs owned very little – perhaps just a bike and a radio.

If you want a laugh on the theme of Ambassador cars check out a great video clip by googling “the sculptor peugeot 206”.

The neighbours. Mr Mathai was on a visit home. He worked abroad, somewhere in the Gulf States I think, so Mrs Mathai was able to afford a few luxuries like a fridge. When it was time for me to get going in the afternoon Robin and Reena would come out into the front yard and shout at my window “Wake up Stephen Uncle. Wake up”.

The green kurta story. Here I am eating traditional style, although it doesn’t look like the mountain of rice is on a plantain leaf, at a festival – perhaps Pongal. A few days later I heard that A S Ram was quite put out that I had worn a kurta in Islam’s colour at a Hindu festival. I had no idea that was what I had done. I just liked the colour.

I am ashamed to say that I knew very little about the history of India and particularly the independence struggle and the horrors of Partition before coming to the school. Most of what I came to find out was from reading a sequence of novels by Paul Scott. The British Council Library in Madras sent out boxes of books. You had to choose from a printed list which just gave the titles and I was struck by “The Jewel in the Crown” and chose it. Luckily this was the first in the sequence and I then read all the others in what became known as “The Raj Quartet”. I also read “Train to Pakistan” by Kushwant Singh and I can see that book now on my bookshelves as I am typing this as well as “Kushwant Singh’s India”.

A S Ram was from north India so he had particularly strong feelings.

The white dhoti story. When I appeared in this outfit for another festival Mrs Mathai said “Look at Steve. Pukka”. I only needed a little “Nehru cap” and I could have been a real Congress wallah. Going round the picture from bottom left I think the first two guys worked in the office, then comes Nair one of the ex-army PT instructors, then Krishna Kutty I think, then on the front row Pakianathan, then Ram, the next face is familiar (Mr KM Koshy) but I can’t put a name to it, then Warrier, then me.

The march past. Many of the readers of this piece will be ex-military men so I hope you won’t feel offended when I say that I didn’t really agree with encouraging boys to concentrate on a career in the armed forces from such an early age and to this day I don’t really agree with boarding schools as I think that young children should be at home with their parents. Then again, I recognise that the school was a great springboard for many boys to have a fulfilling well paid career and all of those who got in touch with me obviously hold the school in high regard and have happy memories of their time there.

Best wishes to you all,

Steve Rosson

steverosson@aol.com

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