Lake: Now what?

An email I received reminded me that I'd not visited the Mart since it closed for the winter vacation. Over the next few days what is being done will take some shape and we know what is being built. Meanwhile, work on the Ganj is also progressing steadily.

The Bailey Guard Gate

The Bailey Guard Gate: Doing too good a job can make something look artificial. Repairing the walls of the Residency was important to prevent them crumbling but the job has been done too perfectly! The Supreme Court had once observed that preservation does not mean reconstruction. That is what has happened here. But like the Alamo, San Antonio, Texas that draws people interested in American history what has been done here is good. The Alamo on the other hand had been destroyed completely, which makes one wonder about the present construction that people visit.

Photography prohibited

Friday, December 17, 2010 Took two of by three grandsons to play in the Residency.

The more one sees...

The more one sees the less one understands!
Thursday Morning I took another walk to see the progress/regress at the lake. Mart Assembly being over and with school closing for the winter vacation from tomorrow Dec 17 the Hashman Shield NCC competition was held. The Principal and Vice Principal are centred on top in one pic with the teachers working furiously to finish their registers, which one can presume should not have had much updating under normal circumstances. I doubt Mr Elton De Souza would be impressed with the hard work during a college event, even less so, Mr T. Savaille but he has just come back after a heart condition.
I'm allowing the other pics speak for themselves!
In small type: Clayton Roberts seems to have not got over his tiring trip to Lucknow this past summer.

Memorial

Tuesday Dec 14, 2010.

The memorial to Sir Henry Lawrence and the brave men who fell at the Residency.

Blast from the past!

---------- Forwarded message ----------

Time Out -- Lucknow's curative ekkas

Girish Bhandari

---

I emerged from the railway station and hopped aboard the very first vehicle I sighted. Three hours to `do' Lucknow. The vehicle lurched, squeaked, as is its wont, and set itself in motion.
"Sahib, this is the result of having fallen on bad days. There was the time when the grandfather of my grandfather regularly shared the dastarkhwan of Nawab Asaf Ud-daullah," said the gnome-like figure with a withered, ash-grey beard. "Regard, huzur, this ekka. In the good old days these four posts were plated with gold. Yes, these very same posts, and their glitter blinded the populace."
Now I, of course, knew the reason for the gnome's patter on this bone-chattering journey. No, no, not bone-shattering, for shattered bones are bereft of speech, and here every one of my bones was loudly wailing. I gathered that the ekka was 200 years old. "And Dilkhush," the gnome pointed to the miserable source of traction of this medieval instrument of torture, "was a prince among stallions." I looked into his eyes as he applied the whip to the toothless Dilkhush, looking for mocking irony or the glint of levity. There was none.
"And look at what has happened, tauba. The tanga-wallahs have stolen a march on us. Tauba. You face south when travelling north. It is devil's invention, this tanga, sahib." I was vaguely aware of the controversy over the historical ekka and the parvenu tanga, but had never suspected that the feelings ran so deep.
"And look what has happened since azadi. They are making the ekka wheels by machine. Tauba, tauba. The eccentricity of the handmade wheel was what gave ekkas their power to cure stomach ailments."
Gastroenterology by ekka rides! We were nearing the frontiers of alternative medicine. The gnome read the disbelief in my eyes and explained the matter in more detail. "On a perfectly-macadamed, butter-like road, the perfect ekka should make one feel that it is full of potholes. That's the secret of its curative property: the eccentricity of its wheels. And I can tell you when my grandfather's grandfather went to visit Nawab Asaf Ud-Daullah, the speed and swerve of his ekka had to be seen to be believed. A lesser mortal would have been thrown clear of the ekka, but not my grandfather. Oh, what a man he was. Never a stomach problem..."
We were nearing the Residency now. "When I see it, I weep, huzur. My grandfather's father laid siege to it and but for treachery, the red-faces firangis would have quit after the gadr. And his body was brought back in his favourite ekka -- this very same." I tried to rig an expression appropriate to the memory of a great martyr.
Suddenly he whipped Dilkhush in a sadistic frenzy and true to his description, the ekka swung violently from side to side. If felt like a scale eight earthquake. I would have been thrown out, had it not been for the fact that I was clinging desperately to one of the posts, which was once plated with gold.
"Now that's it, huzur. By this evening, all your stomach problems will have melted away. My grandfather, for instance... This is bhulbhulaiya. Once you get in, there is no getting out, unless you take this naksha with you. Twenty rupees, huzur. My grandfather's uncle's brother drew it and it is the very same map..."
This journey itself was taking on the proportions of a bhulbhulaiya, and there seemed to be no getting out. I decided I had received enough treatment for all my stomach problems past, present and future, and was headed for an overdose. I snatched the naksha out of the gnome's hand, leapt out of the curative ekka and vanished into the labyrinth of the bhulbhulaiya.
Copyright © 1997 Indian Express Newspapers (Bombay) Ltd.

John Cline

burrababa@hotmail.com
 

Lucknow Vintage Car Rally

zxx Sunday, Dec 5, 2010.

Billy Nestor

Nov 25, 2010.

Here's a pic of Uncle Billy at a party on my daughter, Fiona's terrace (back to camera). On his left is Clinton McFarland of an old Lucknow family. My younger daughter, Faye, is married to his son Craig.

Time has passed so fast I cannot remember whether it's three years of Billy's passing or more? We had got used to seeing him for a few days every year. The last trip he made to Gorakhpur he didn't stop over at Lucknow owing to his impaired movement and us living on the first floor.

 Billy's dad died in Bahraich (Uttar Pradesh) where he had settled after his retirement from the police. Billy had settled in UK but spent much of the last 20-odd years in India. He shared an affinity with India, the country of his birth, and loved speaking the language, depending heavily on Urdu.

(Origin: A letter to Leslie, Billy's sister's daughter in UK)

The dog pack!

Lawrence Terrace's dog pack is growing by the day. Here you see them in front of the Lucknow Club. Up in front to the left is a big garbage dump that is the collection point for refuse from the surrounding area. It provides dangerous feed for stray cattle. The cattle referred to as 'stray' are animals let loose by the owners who don't want to feed them. The municipal authorities lacks to backbone to deal the problem...

Re: Mart Lake

Thanks for the information George, The Google information I sent you was snipped from the information available on the Google Earth website. If you enter the web page and locate the Maritniere as I have done in the image I sent you, you will be able to use the add path and ruler functions to depict the areas on the image you have on the monitor. However, the pictures you have sent do give the general idea of what is occurring. The Principal and the board of the Martiniere must have a survey plan of what is being developed. I expect these works are essential to keep the Goomtie at bay!!! By the way, Ainslie is my dear wife of 51 years. Vern, my brother lives in a suburb of Perth some 80 kilometres from where I live. He is currently on holiday in the Eastern States of Australia. He is not on the Internet so I share all this information with him when we meet. The Martiniere in the background looks like it must have looked when it was first built. Good to see. Keep up the good work. Always pleased to hear news of the "Alma Mater". Regards, Roley Sharpe           -------Original Message-------   From: george shepherd Date: 15/11/2010 12:46:11 PM To: george shepherd;  arsharpe@westnet.com.au;  john cline;  keith shepherd Subject: Mart Lake   The Sharpe brothers sent me a google earth image of the Mart asking me to mark off the areas undergoing earthwork. Well the work is in the whole lake area. I took some more pictures this morning. I'm not sure whether I'll get the right order to make it easy to understand. I'm not capable of doing that on the Earth image. I could use that image on facebook if its possible to tag the different areas as required. However, from some of the foundation work taking place between the lake and Lat, it appears that the plan is either to put a pucca pathway coming from upstream along the periphery of the lake, or, a pathway with a large drain underneath, rerouting the Jiamau drain through this and joining it to the one that forms the south-east boundary of Fairydale that flows into the river. Thus, taking sewage to the river downstream. I hope the order of the pics help!

Mart Lake

The Sharpe brothers sent me a google earth image of the Mart asking me to mark off the areas undergoing earthwork. Well the work is in the whole lake area. I took some more pictures this morning. I'm not sure whether I'll get the right order to make it easy to understand. I'm not capable of doing that on the Earth image. I could use that image on facebook if its possible to tag the different areas as required.

However, from some of the foundation work taking place between the lake and Lat, it appears that the plan is either to put a pucca pathway coming from upstream along the periphery of the lake, or, a pathway with a large drain underneath, rerouting the Jiamau drain through this and joining it to the one that forms the south-east boundary of Fairydale that flows into the river. Thus, taking sewage to the river downstream. I hope the order of the pics help!

La Martiniere College band and choir cir 1962

Add caption

Lucknow Ganj is a war zone

The whole of Hazratganj, Lucknow is a mess. Over the years water-logging had increased. Even the lightest shower of rain caused a problem. Finally the Municipal authorities decided to tackle it.They started putting down pipes in front of the Girls Martiniere. That portion was covered quite speedily and more or less completed in record time. After that they have dug up the whole of the Gunj, La Place (back road to the Girls Mart) Shahnajaf Road (St Francis) and they are still digging.... The only hope is that they don't join up the ends of the different guage pipes and wonder why the water (sewage) is going no-where! So much for our clever engineers!! This has killed the festival of Diwali in the main shopping area of Luc.know

Haunting!

The 'Haunted House, ' situated on the Ganj-side of the Coffee House building is struggling to survive. To prevent both his ends from meeting, or to make 'both ends meet', this guy sits distributing pamphlets outside the coffee house to supplement his income. With that mask on he's definitely having a hard time!

Larkins compound

Behind me is where the Larkins house once stood. Today the compound stands divided with the site where the house was almost a jungle. Carlyle McFarland has a prime spot, to the left of the entrance

zzz

Burra Baba John wrote:
""You will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did"; "Habit is habit and not to be flung out of the window by any man, but coaxed downstairs a step at a time"; "Courage... is mastery of fear – not absence of fear" (aka Feel The Fear And Do It Anyway). His satirical "advice to youth", quoted in the recent collection Mark Twain's Helpful Hints For Good Living, is perfectly wise: "Always obey your parents, when they are present... Most parents think they know better than you do, and you can generally make more by humouring that superstition." He leant towards pacifism, but mocked the holier-than-thou: "I thoroughly disapprove of duels. If a man should challenge me, I would take him kindly and forgivingly by the hand and lead him to a quiet place and kill him."
This column will change your life: The wit and wisdom of Mark Twain
Today's happiness gurus should follow the master and learn how to laugh
Oliver Burkeman
The Guardian, Saturday 16 October 2010"

McCLUSKIEGUNJ

Mr Dobson who was one of the early settlers
 in the Gunj

Mrs Dobson, formerly Mrs Hourigan,
 mother of Ken and mother-in-law of Ivy
Hourigan nee Shepherd

below)

Kenneth Hourigan on a visit to the
 Gunj with his wife, Ivy

THE GOOD TIMES

From Ray Barnes in Patna

1977: I came to take up a job in a school at Ranchi and first of all I was appalled at the level of poverty in Bihar when I arrived here to work. Also at the dismally poor working conditions in almost every place I visited. Bihar to me was everything I saw and heard on the news, a dry, forlorn state where drought and famine were a common sight… I wondered what kind of people I would be meeting here, maybe my decision to work here was a bad one?

My first few days at a famous school were filled with trepidation. I found myself so different from the rest. However all this changed dramatically when I discovered a large group of Anglo-Indian Staff on the campus who were friendly, helpful and above all, very clued-up. Some of them were from Chakradharpur (CKP is the Anglicized name), some from Jamshedpur, some from Adra and some from McCluskiegunj.

The Christensen brothers from McCluskiegunj, Frank and Brian were immediately my best friends as we had so much to share in common. They spoke of 'The Gunj' with such affection that I wanted to go there with them as soon as we had our first long break.

Besides them we had a small knot of elderly ladies and gents from the domestic section that we bachelors messed with. Stories about our respective home towns flew around at break neck speed at practically every meal. We talked of situations we had been in, food we were used to, common colleges and schools we attended, all the topics a group of persons would normally talk about…

Mr. Alfred Fitzgerald our Principal was a man of integrity. He ruled with an iron hand and most of the staff quivered with fear whenever he was around, but not the Christensen brothers and me. We were good at our jobs, made the difference the school needed and we were favoured by him openly… not that we took undue advantage but that we were on even ground with him. We had our share of 'scrape-up's' with Fitzi (as he was fondly referred to), as he was a difficult man to convince. In his own words, he would always say, 'I am an old fashioned man'… but we were full of good ideas and each time we managed to get him to adjust to something we wanted him to implement, it was a victory of sorts. The non AI staff were mainly Bengali but we got on with them largely too.

These were good times. The school was an old and reputed one, (The Bishop Westcott Boys School, Namkum), and Ranchi town was a quaint semi-developed city we visited (we were 10 km from town) on weekends. Being a musician I was quickly inserted into the school Band and we played good music for the Staff and students at every social and were even out on display at all major school functions. Yes, Fitzi knew his stuff all right…

Within three months of coming to Ranchi we got our first long break, Easter. The Christensen brothers prepared to go home to McCluskiegunj (I will refer to it hereafter as the 'Gunj') and invited me to come with them. Their father had just retired from a plush Government job and they were a well to do and respected family of the Gunj.

McCluskiegunj:

My first experience was the bus ride from Ranchi to the Gunj, a three hour journey that felt like 33… the bus was the only single link to the Gunj and was packed with villagers mostly. In fact the only persons wearing pants and shirts were us three. The smell in the bus was foul with sweat, body odor, stale breath, and there were even two goats as our fellow passengers. Did I forget to mention? Yes, there were as many persons on the roof of the bus as were inside. The Christensen brothers told me that in earlier times, the bus had two compartments; the forward one for the AI 'sahibs and memsahibs' and the rear one for the villagers, but that had changed many years ago.

The journey up to Chama (the point on the Bijupara - Khalari stretch where we branch off for the final 10 km to the Gunj), was fairly smooth, (roads were a mess but they were just about roads). However, when we reached Chama, the track changed dramatically… it had become dark already and in the dim lights of the bus I saw just a dirt track ahead. The bus lurched maddeningly at every turn and to my horror, there were certain stretches where the bus practically turned turtle when one side would go into a deep cleft in the ground… the persons atop the bus did nothing good for the already compromised center of gravity of the bus. But, somehow we made our way painfully down the Chama – Dooley – Lapra stretches.

Lapra was the Gunj – the final / starting bus stop for Gunj – Ranchi – Gunj travellers… Brian and Frank kept pointing out the various homesteads but I couldn't see them too well because of the darkness. We got wearily off the bus at Lapra and then trudged the half kilometer to the Christensen homestead.

When we reached the house I was struck by the grandeur of the place. It was an old rambling bungalow with a verandah running right around, and spacious high-ceilinged roof over all the rooms. Huge ceiling fans from the British times hung ominously from the rafters and there was even a candle chandelier (if I remember correctly) in the living room. There was no electricity as a power cut was on. (In the Gunj, it is still common to have no electricity for up to three months at a time). However this did not dampen any one's spirits and I was quickly introduced to the rest of the family. Mr. Christensen was another (no fooling around) kind of person who actually had a sense of humour you needed to understand… the lady of the house Mrs. C was a quiet and efficient person who had the experience of looking after an 11 member family and we soon had dinner and retired to our rooms. This was my first impression of the Gunj and the folk who lived there. Houses built in this fashion abounded in the Gunj, some bigger, some smaller but the lifestyle of those earlier times showed in the way the homes were built.

The next morning Frank and Brian took me around. We would traverse hundreds of meters at a time and suddenly come across beautiful cottages sprinkled about the dense foliage of the place. 'That's the Mathew's place, there's Mr. Castlehari's place, here's the church' and this is how it went on…

I was fortunate to see McCluskiegunj at just the beginning of its decline at this and several subsequent visits. I was able to be friends with Keith McGowen and Chris Thipthorpe. Keith left for Spain over 25 yrs ago and his mother followed about 10 years ago. Chris died tragically on his motorbike at a railway crossing and is survived by his wife and two lovely daughters.

I spent many memorable days with Keith and Chris, roaming around the area and me full of questions. There was one homestead right against a hill which must have been a wonderful place in its time. Beautiful landscaping had been done around the house and inside, each bathroom had a sunken bath. Marble tiles had been ripped out leaving just rubble but one could still imagine the luxury its owners had worked for and enjoyed. This place I was told, had just been left, just like that… no successor, no deed nothing. They were here one day and left the next… I don't remember the name of the owner but older Gunj residents will know the property I am talking about.

So, we spent days like this, exploring and trying to imagine what it must have been like in the older days. I used to tote a guitar and we would spend hours under the shade of a tree composing songs we thought would one day make us famous… usual early adulthood stuff. I was introduced to many of the people then residing there and one of my favourites was old Mr. Cline. What he had forgotten about motorcycles was more than we could ever learn. He had a lovely little cottage close to the Christensen's' place, it was so small it could have been a doll's house. But it was enough for the old couple.

Just across was the residence of Miss Bonner, a mysterious German lady who had few friends and no one dared to get into her garden… ever. The whole hamlet appeared scared of her. She left no will and the huge double storeyed place on a large plot of land has now been taken over by the local Thana. That's the last I heard.

Alice McGowen (Keith's mother) and Mr. McGowen had the most beautiful cottage, and I remember, the deepest well, cut all the way through solid rock. It now belongs to Mr. Alfie DeRozario.

Well I could go on, as there were still a lot of families around but the exodus had already begun. The parties I heard of had stopped a couple of years ago when most of the younger people left with their families. Now people paid courtesy calls on each other and if there was ever a dance, it would be a private affair, and not a community affair like it used to be…

The writing was on the wall…

Like many others, the Christensen's also left. Years later I became friends with Roderick Cameron and his family. They tried in vain to modernize the Gunj but like others they too left quite a few years ago. Others who I knew (and there were many I didn't meet at all) were the Ramsbottom's, the Hourigan's, Gordon's, and if I have left someone out I hope they will forgive me…

Before my eyes in the last 30 or so years many families left and migrated to the UK or Australia, some left their houses to the servants who served them loyally, some sold out for a song and yet some just left the house as it was for vagrants to occupy and plunder the remaining fittings and plumbing…

There are now barely seven or eight AI families left; one of them is the Hourigan family whom I know well. About 10 to 15 years ago Mr. Alfie DeRozario from Patna bought some property in the Gunj and started a branch of his famous Patna school, Don Bosco, in the Gunj. This school has grown in stature and strength and is the last vestige of AI tradition left. The remaining families are somewhat involved with the school, keeping boarders. Here too, lack of business acumen played a role. Alfie initially gave all the AI families the opportunity to run private hostels but though some started off well, most folded up due to lack of professionalism and business acumen. Noel Gordon is probably the only person along with Kenneth Jennings who have made their hostels work and give them a good standard of living.

So, I have witnessed the breakup of a once great colony to a small scattering of somewhat disunited families who for some reason could not or did not want to, migrate somewhere else…

Lack of a proper marketing place (only a village market exists and the trip to Ranchi is the only other option), proper schools (before Alfies time), and the typical squabbling amongst the persons there, helped to be one or two of the factors. 'Theres no future here for the children' was another cry, truthful indeed, as no development by the State Govt. ever got to this place… funds allotted were swallowed up and so the Gunj as we knew it once upon a time, is no longer the same.

Windows and doors that sported colourful curtains and drapes, sumptuous gardens and carefully planned vegetable patches (all traces of the lifestyles of good AI families) have almost totally disappeared. The Naxalite menace is a further threat to the development of this place, people are threatened openly and some have even been shot… the exodus is a silent one with families slipping away quietly and what's left is a dry and desolate place, devoid of the cheerful chatter of AI boys and girls cycling around madly, the sound of a stereo blaring Englebert or Jim Reeves at odd times, the arguments between neighbours which ended up in shaking of hands (and maybe some imbibing of homemade brew after friends made them up)… All these sounds and sights are a thing of the past.

An outsider but a fairly regular visitor, I have seen all the good times but mainly the decline. I do not blame the people, just the situations they faced. The lack of vision of our Anglo-Indian leaders, and even of many like me who stood by as silent spectators … watching an icon of Anglo Indian hope dwindle to nothing in such a short time.

Remnants will always be there; Kitty Tikshera and her family is one… so are the Hourigan family, Judy Mendonca – Gomes and her sons, Dennis Meredith and family, Harold Mendies, Robert Fleming, Christopher D'Costa, Kenneth Jennings and family, Ivan Barrett and family, Noel Gordon and family, John Hourigan and Brian Mendies.

These are names given to me by Malcolm Hourigan who works in my school in Patna. A handful and some in their 70's or 80's … many of them have nowhere to go, and there isn't an old people's home nearby…

A good friend of mine from Lucknow, Robert Cooke and his wife came down to our home in Ranchi. Sandra was really keen to see McCluskiegunj. I kept trying to put them off but my wife Shirley was adamant we go. Well, we did and first of all the lonely roads were scary enough. Then when we finally came into the Gunj I could hardly recognize it myself. Dry and dusty houses showed their ugly fronts and I had to search for someone we knew. We met Kenneth Jennings who is running a girls hostel for girls in Don Bosco School. He is doing well as other AI's gave up their hostels leaving him comfortable. He is one of the people (of maybe another two) who are making a living. The others are just hanging on to pensions and bank balances that are dwindling…

There were also some good people who came into the Gunj with dreams of settling down to a nice relaxed retirement, one such person was Amit Ghosh and his German wife, Loni. They spent 5 – 7 years in the Gunj before they decided it wasn't worth it and shifted to Ranchi after selling out. There was another couple whose names I forget who actually had to face the Naxalite's head on. The wife was kidnapped and held in the jungles till the husband fetched all his guns from Ranchi and handed them over to the Naxals. They left almost immediately after.

Each year during the Durga puja season, hundreds of Bengali's flood the Gunj as they hear it's a lovely place. At this time many of the remaining families convert their homes into Guest Houses and make a little money. For the rest of the year the Gunj looks like a ghost town.

There are now two buses that ply to Ranchi from here (and you will still find the odd goat as a passenger…) but that's the way of the Gunj… it never improved, just regressed with time. Electricity has been virtually non-existent from the time I first stepped into the Gunj. Months go by before power is restored and then it lasts but a few days before the next 'breakdown'. I am talking here of a time frame from 1977 till 2010  - 33 years! Who would want to stay in a place like this without electricity? Water too. There's no supply, you either dig a well or bore well to get water and then you may reach a contaminated source…

I salute those who are holding on grimly to what they have because that's all they have. Maybe after people read this article some bold person/s will try to do something to bring this old bastion of Anglo Indian culture back to some semblance of its glory. Or move the Government into action, or better still get our AI leaders in Delhi and the South to motivate persons, NGO's or such organizations to re-develop McCluskiegunj once more…

The good times are gone…

Ray Barnes
President: The Bishop's Heritage Society
Hon Principal: The Bishop's Heritage School
PO Anandpur – Bihta (Beside Home Guard Camp)
PATNA 801 103
BIHAR - INDIA

Phones            
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Fwd: The Shepherd Story

From: <georgeshepherdlkw@gmail.com>
Date: Sep 3, 2010 11:24 PM
Subject: The Shepherd Story
To: Peter C Shepherd <shepherd.p.b@bigpond.com>

Sept 3, 2010.

 

Dear Peter,

How are you doing now since your surgery?

 

This morning I was going through your book, a copy of which was given me by Ian recently. I'd read most of it when you first sent it but now I have a copy as well.

What happened to Jonah's descendants?

In the 1960's we had a James Shepherd in school (La Martiniere, Lucknow) with us whom I felt was related to us but the matter was not discussed then. James had two sisters in the girls Martiniere, namely, Patricia and Lorraine, the children of James Shepherd who was the New Delhi correspondent of Time magazine. In 1970(?) my brother Keith was invited over to their place when he visited Delhi where the 'family' was discussed and it turned out that we were related. Presently, James is in the UK. He'd been in touch with old friends over the net but seems to have dropped out and answers no mail. In 1998 I'd spoken to Lorraine over the phone a few times when I spent a few months in Delhi. She lives in Gurgaon, Haryana.

I'm trying to get in touch with her as she sent me a message on facebook. Her brother, probably, has more information on their family background. So that's the next step.

 

Alfred I think remained unmarried. He shot himself around the time their family was moving out of the country. He is said to have asked my grandmother, Mabel, to visit him. I don't know where all this happened which leaves a lot of gaps in the story.

 

My dad had told me several times about your dad coming to Lawrence Terrace along with Edward and Clive.

 

 Bye for now,

 

George

 

Raymond Barnes

 
This pic of Robert Cooke, myself, Raymond Barnes and Russell Carville was taken recently near Spence Hall.

Cartoons

 

 

https://mail.google.com/mail/?shva=1#inbox/12972cf71735788b

June newsletter

https://docs.google.com/viewer?a=v&pid=gmail&attid=0.1&thid=12954c4a6e21b9d0&mt=application%2Fpdf&url=https%3A%2F%2Fmail.google.com%2Fmail%2F%3Fui%3D2%26ik%3D1151854f83%26view%3Datt%26th%3D12954c4a6e21b9d0%26attid%3D0.1%26disp%3Dattd%26zw&sig=AHIEtbTAAXFKxORnFPdgoMpUSmhFMkSOqg&pli=1

Sports Day 1969

College Captain Pradeep Thapar (Tubby), from L is George Shepherd, Cornwallis House. The others are Hodson House SP Singh, Lyons House AD Palmer and William Lyons, Martin House. I cannot recall who carried the second college flag.

Picnic 1960s

A picnic at the Lucknow Zoo. Kneeling (L) George, that's me, my bros Keith, Douglas and Richard. The small chaps standing is Patrick Flynn left and my brother Ian. My mother is standing (L). The others are aunts and uncles and Lauraine and the Rosairo sisters. Aunty Ivy and Uncle Ken are in the centre. (This line is added for Jean Hourigan in Melbourne).

Fwd: college

 

 

William Lyons (R) Martin House Captain, George Shepherd (L) Cornwallis House Captain. Sports Day 1969.

 

Two old tamarind trees

Kanshi Ram 20 years ago

Kanshi Ram addressing a gathering of a few hundred people near a village on Sitapur road. This was when the party had only maybe one member of Parliament. Today the Chief Minister, Ms Mayawati draws crowds going into hundreds of thousands.

Fwd: Fw: [oldmartinians] Learning starts with irreverence

Date: Mon, Jun 14, 2010 at 6:10 PM
Subject: Fw: [oldmartinians] Learning starts with irreverence
To: George Shepherd <georgeshepherdlkw@gmail.com>

----- Forwarded Message ----
From: "oldmartinians-owner@yahoogroups.com" <oldmartinians-owner@yahoogroups.com>
To: oldmartinians@yahoogroups.com
Sent: Mon, June 14, 2010 5:29:03 PM
Subject: [oldmartinians] Learning starts with irreverence

 

http://blogs.timesofindia.indiatimes.com/extraordinaryissue/entry/learning-starts-with-irreverence

Learning starts with irreverence

La Martiniere was the only school I ever went to. I joined it at 3 and passed out completing my Senior Cambridge. This is the school currently in the news because a student hung himself after the Principal caned him reportedly for not doing his homework. Corporal punishment is always a silly idea. It achieves little, hurts a lot. Depending on which part of your anatomy gets the stick. In our time it was the posterior, and as we all padded that well in advance with notebooks and towels, the Principal (who swung the cane) would first instruct us to drop our pants.

No, I wasn't caned for not doing homework. In our time, students were far more irreverent. Not doing homework was the least of our transgressions. But the ecology of schools was so different then that even when we were punished, we took it easily in our stride. Studying was never a big deal. Learning was. And the real things I learnt out there were either on the rugby field or in the boxing ring and, yes, I made a few friends who have stayed on for life. That's what schools were about in those days and La Martiniere was a fine example. It was there that I learnt music, theatre, swimming, writing, waltzing, carpentry and how to smoke grass. Geography I learnt much later while travelling the world. Poetry I found after I unlearnt Shakespeare. History I picked up from the movies. But the subject I hated the most, maths, is the one I love today thanks to Martin Gardner who taught me the art of artfully resolving any complex mathematical problem.

Caning was commonplace then. No one gave it a second thought. If anything, your classmates saw you as a hero if you got whacked. Like the time the watchman caught me climbing down the waterpipe at night from the Girls School dorm next door. A sudden burst of pigeons from the corner of a ledge woke him up and almost killed me. Another time I was caned for scribbling love notes with strong sexual undercurrents to my junior school teacher, Miss Martin. I was also whacked for helping a friend during an exam. The notes in his underwear had fallen off. The hardest whack I got was for writing an essay which questioned the existence of God and said that if I had a choice I would rather go with Madhubala. Yet I was let off with a warning when they found me, at a social, waltzing with a girl not where the others were, but behind the Tech School in the dark, under the starry skies. My school tie was off. So was her shirt.

Yes, we were punished for many reasons. But we never felt humiliated. We went back and did the same things again, just making sure we were not caught. Caning was like a badge of honour. We were heroes every time the Principal (Mr Chalk and Mr Vyse, the two fine men who wielded the cane on our bottoms) announced our names sternly at the morning service and called us to his office. We knew what that meant. But it never embarrassed us. In fact, I took bets on how many whacks I would get. Three was the max. I always got away with one. I suspect we were caned only because the Principal felt it was his duty to do so. It was an intrinsic part of the Coming of Age ritual. There was no viciousness there. Nor a mistaken belief that caning would make better young men out of us.

Today, the entire ecology of schools has changed. The charming irreverence that made our years there such great fun has all but vanished. What we have instead is a strange combination of fear and stress. The love, the warmth, the humour, the camaraderie that was an intrinsic part of our growing up years has gone. Everything is judged purely by academic performance, the marks students get. It's an edgy, competitive scenario where you perform or perish. Everyone's under great pressure. When I got a first division, I remember how disappointed I was. It was not what I wanted in life. I would have much rather run off with Mr Vyse's charming daughter, the lovely Suzette who danced like a dream and won every race at the school sports. But no, she was not mine to be. She finished school, married an Anglo Indian boy and vanished into the Great Outback.

It's this ecological breakdown that makes corporal punishment look even uglier. When a young boy in Class VIII kills himself for being caned it can only mean one thing: A total breakdown of communication between him and the world around him. School is not where you go just to get some good grades. It's a place where you grow up, make friends, learn a few sports, discover yourself and the world around you. And if someone whacks you once in a while, you take it in your stride. There's a whole world out there to be conquered. You can't give that up so easily.

Pritish Nandy

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Shahab M Khan
Hodson House
Lamartiniere Lko. 1983 - 90
Group Founder/ Moderator

Pat Lewis dead

Sunday June 13, 2010.

 

Patrick Lewis who taught maths for a year or two at the Mart around 1968 before moving on to St Francis died on Saturday in Lucknow. He was buried on Sunday at the Nishatganj Cemetery.

Fwd: Kolkata Martiniere

From The Indian Express, Lucknow edition dtd June 11, 2010.

:
Froms="gmail_sendername">george shepherd <georgeshepherdlkw@gmail.com>
Date: Fri, Jun 11, 2010 at 11:22 PM
Subject: Kolkata Martiniere
To: george shepherd <georgeshepherdlkw@gmail.com>

I wonder how much of this is politics?

Derek (Daku) West

From the past
I remember the time, Derek West (bottom right)a prefect, walked into London's hair dressing salon and Kenny Caleb and myself were waiting for a haircut. He didn't say a word to us. He first wangled us to the chair, had his s---, s---, s---- and shampoo, paid, asked us if we had exeats, which we didn't, and walked out. In the night he caned us in the dorm. Those were great days!

Happy days!

Testing my memory for names: From L: Rod Simeon, Bruce Abrahams, Robert Jordan, Dhannu 'Douglas' Ram, James Peters, Cedric Innes, Kochin Wu, Jumbo Roberts. Ram passed away a few years ago in Delhi. He was with the Delhi Police. James Peters was with the Oil and Natural Gas Commission when I met him many years ago. Haven't heard of him since.

You have got Mail from OMA !!!

From: gautam bharadwaja <jumbo.1951@yahoo.co.in>
Date: Wed, Jun 9, 2010 at 7:41 PM
Subject: Re: Fwd: You have got Mail from OMA !!!
To: hodsonhouse@westnet.com.au

I fully agree with Gautam Kaul,this advt businee is a hoax to suit some guy who has been chosen already,the reqd qualifications r being modelled to suit this chappie.Its difficult to swallow this bullshit.Shame on the scamsters who have set this in motion.The Chairman of the board should be appraised of this development immediately.Cedric Innis., MLC who stays in All'bad could be asked to take up cudgels on behalf of the OMA. Bharadwaja From: hodsonhouse@westnet.com.au <hodsonhouse@westnet.com.au> Subject: Fwd: You have got Mail from OMA !!!  Date: Wednesday, 9 June, 2010, 4:19 PM ----- Forwarded Message ----- From: "Gautam Kaul" Dear All OMA guys world wide, I have been able to get a scan of an advertisement which appeared as a classified advt in the Lucknow's edition of TIMES OF INDIA. Please go to the pdf file and read it in the attachment.If this does not open, pl inform me seperately. Classified advertising is resorted first because it is the least expensive form and secondly because it is focussed to local patrons who are looking for assignments which are advertised. Here is a 170 years old institution called La Martiniere Boys College announcing it is looking for a new Principal for the school. "Administrative experience is preferred" What is this administrative experience? It can be a once upon a time being a burser and then teach for minimum 15 years in some higher secondary school , maybe even in Martinpurwa ! Conversely administrative experience need not be a qualification.( Hey what is happening in the College?) I am ashamed to see such a purile announced seeking the services of a person to be considered as a future principal. There is no suggestion for a SALARY and other perks offered for the assingment. The School is not offering a residence in the advt. or a compensation called the House Allowance. Not even a suggestion that the applicant should give his bid on what he is seeking as a financial package. Why only '15 years experience'? A principal of LMC must be a person in my view who is already working either as a Vice Principal or Principal of a reputed School or College in India for an appreciable period. 15 years experience is no criteria of academic excellence for a Head of an institution. MA Ed. as degree is not sufficient. He should be a Second Division minimum person with a foreign language diploma and well travelled. After all the guy will certainly go to Lyon in his lifetime. He needs to interact with confidence,meet senior govt. official, fight for the recall of the land occupied by the Lucknow Gold Club, safe the grounds from Mayawati's land mafia and address crowds and parents. And what about his extra curricular activities. What games has he played in his youth. Was there Rugby? I dare say, the Governing Board may be looking for a person who has not even heard of rugger! The whole advt. seems to me a big public fraud. Someone has already been selected and this selection process will be an exercise for public consumption. An interesting sidelight is the absence of no claim that LMC is a minority institution and the Principal from the minority community would be preferred, leave aside the church he serves. Will the Board set aside a highly qualified Non Christian candidate or a persons from the Seventh Day Adventists? The Chairman of the Board is Justice Pradeep Kant Senior Judge of the Lucknow Bench of the Allahabad High Court. Elton is the Secretary of the Board.This poorly drafted advt. could not have been approved by Justice Kant. All members are ex officio members and this is what I have in the past been saying that the Board must be expanded to include more committed persons for the welfare of the College/School. It is presntly vacation time for the Court and Jus. Pradeep Kant would be more free. Elton will not stir on this subject. We have to petition the Board Chairman to highlight the hollowness of this public advertisement, the dismay of the old studnets, and get an outcry made if possible. A worthy head of any such delegation may be Dr. Rajendra Pachauri if he can spare a day for this job. There is no OMA working in Lucknow. We have one in New Delhi and the there are OMA branches in Australia, UK . I suggest that the foreign located Branches should sent to the New Delhi Branch there resolutions expressing their concern on the type of the Advt issued and they can add their own particular sentiments. The New Delhi Branch will see its core group assembled and also take up the issue and we will petition the Chairman of the Board and meet him early. In the meanwhile we want someone in Lucknow to volunteer to revive the OMA since that is most suited to such jobs. Let the discussion and action now flow. Circulate this note to OMA persons who are not listed here for wider reception and reaction. Gautam Kaul Hodson House 1953-59 -- Original Message -- From: hitech drillers hdpl_lko@yahoo.co.in To: kaul60@rediffmail.com Subject: advertisement

From across the Gomti

Taken from about 400 metres with my camera phone which is OK for shorter distances. The water in the foreground of two pics is not that of the river but what we had been told was an oxbow lake. I recall Mr Dignum mention it. However, the bottom pic was taken from the new railway bridge, which is yet to be commissioned, so we have the river flowing below and an abandoned pontoon that looks like a floating corpse or tree.