A DIALOGUE WITH MY SCHOOL MATES:
My 'School Mate' Family is quite a huge one at that. I am at loss - how and where to begin. Friends, we have had a very long journey together. Yes, eleven years is quite a long period. We have studied together, played together and had all the fun together. We all are alumni of the Bosteonva (Perhaps, Goan or Kokani word for Boston) University as our Alma Mater - Sanctus Sebastianus ( St. Sebastian in Latin) - yes, we took pride in being called as students of Bostenva (बॉसतेंव) University. It is quite incredible that despite the school days ended for us more than 50 years ago, the memories remain as sharp as ever. Together we all enjoyed every moment of those years we spent at St. Sebastians, those naughty but playful mischief, idle chit-chats, those loads of meaningless laughter at some silly jokes (PJ), raucous shouting at the top of our lungs during recess, pulling pranks on someone or other, what with all those 'Fish Ponds' and giving nick-names to peers and teachers alike with the same enthusiasm - all pure and absolute madness. Even the simple and aimless running
around in the corridors was a ritual for us. Relishing the chikki from the vendor outside our school, was our daily routine, in exchange for the precious one or two annas (12 paise) in our pocket - the old man would call us in this manner,"आओ बच्चों, खाओ मेरा ख़राब माल। टॉफी वाला चिक्की खाओ, ये बूढ़ी बाल लो याँ अदरक की चिक्की खालो। " Or reluctantly have 'samosa' or something from our school canteen, in case, whenever the school gate was locked..
On my life's canvas, I see many a faces faces of many a people have been painted, old replacing new ones, but pictures of all of you, my school mates, have remained permanently etched on the canvas of my mind. Some of you are not amidst us, having left for heavenly abode.
Ravindra Tote (I was the only person who addressed you thus; for the rest it was Ravi), after all you were my bosom friend - my लंगोटी यार, weren't you? It was quite a fun - the way we would run riot - go on the rampage at your house after school hours and weekly- holidays, enjoying every bite of the snacks of चहा-चपातीचा नाशता (tea and chapati).and for us more than पंचपक्वान (a delicacy). Your father and mother were working parents and came home late giving us all the freedom in the world. We studied together, played together and had all the fun together from the first to B.Sc. You were fairly good in mathematics and graduated in maths. You were epitome of patience and tolerance. You would never retaliate when you were made butt of ridicule and which was quite often. I disliked you being made fun of and mocked at in this manner. It angered me and made me fight for you. But you were very cool. You were doing quite well as an accountant. But then suddenly you left all of us. RIP.
Surendra Murdeshwar, have you recognised me? Do you still remember me? How would you ever forget two of us, Shreekant Telang and me? We two must have troubled you a lot! Both of us were quite trim and in fact, I was painfully thin, while you were muscular and robust. Yet we would bully you. I don;t why you were so scared of us. I am sorry. I am even ashamed even to think how we would make you carry us, in turns on your back and run and complete rounds of our school playground. You left our school in the seventh. We were young and stupid then. However, if we ever meet again then ---
तर तुझे पाय
धरून माफी मागेन. (I shall apologise and ask for your pardon lying prostrate)Will you pardon me? Shreekant will not able to do so--- for he is no more. Please do pardon him. We, two of us, were very mischievous
and naughty. Perhaps vagabonds would the correct words to describe us! It was our class- teacher Mr.Joshi, who brought us on the right track. He disciplined us and instilled in us the sense of responsibility. Shreekant owes his success to him. He completed his BSc, LLB, LLM . He wrote several books for 'Law' and was Law Professor in the Govt. Law College. He became music director and I had heard from him that he had given break to Suresh Wadkar. Some months back a common friend of ours told me, "Shreekant is no more."
Vincent D'Souza and Asok Ferrow, you both were my good friends and our friendship continued to blossom even after school and college life. I still remember table tennis final I was playing. You two were the only guys who supporting and cheering me in the final of that match, when almost everybody was backing Ronie Coutino. (Dr. Ronie Coutino has settled in US). Needless to say that I lost the match. We met quite often, discussed on various topics. We argued and fought. But our fights were
never about personalities but always about protecting either a fierce ideology
or for that matter a creative insight. We would go out in the evening, first it was for a cup of tea for some time and then it turned to a
glass of Old Monk rum or RC whiskey and discussed life covering cricket, football to movies. We allowed and encouraged dissent as long it was mired in logic.We even discussed our religions without disrespecting anyone. Somehow all of this is
changing. I don't know what anecdotes the youth of today will live to recount. They seem to be living moments and uttering slogans rather than delighting themselves with tales and then spinning conversations of substance. We would also exchange letters. Vincent, you penned very good letters and I enjoyed reading them. The art of writing letters is dying as swiftly as is the art of good conversation and for
both these, more than a sharp intellect, you need a clear head but our heads
are too cluttered in these times. Ashok, I miss those conversations we used to have, the jokes used to tell, how you never bothered about being politically correct.
Vincent, I had at least the chance to bid you Good Bye when you were on the death bed. But Ashok, you left this world suddenly.
Both of you have left. So have Madhusudan Zaveri and Wilfred D'Sousa . Despite your mother tongue being Gujarati , Madhusudan, you spoke Marathi very well. May your souls rest in peace! All the four of have departed. Yet my evenings never end when the sun goes down. They linger as fond memories.
They are never abrupt but enduring. Life is too short to live only for the moment and erase the joys
of the past.
Jokim Cardazo, are you still the same - a happy go lucky - jovial fellow? I remember. We were in sixth,. Miss Mabel Pariera was our English teacher. She had once asked us to write a letter as an assignment and had elaborately explained the format of letter writing. When she angrily asked you why you had written her address instead of yours - the way you had replied keeping your face straight, " Teacher, you had told us that we should not write our own name and address and so
I have written some fictitious name and address - the address is all my
imagination." Do you remember? Once you had come to the classes with your eye brows shaved off completely. What reason you must have given I do not recollect, but it must have been very funny; for the whole class had burst out laughing. Once Rev. Father Almeida was giving us lecture on Sex Education during Moral Science period, you had asked him, " Father, being a priest, you have never married,
then how can you tell so confidently about sex and marriage?" Of course, Rev. Father had cleverly answered his query.
Jokim, I do not know what profession you into. But if still retain your funny character, cracking jokes with straight face and spontaneous humour then you could be the king of farce and comedy!
More about my other class - mates some other time.
Vinay Trilokekar
(1965 batch)
