Frank Anthony 1908-1993

Frank Anthony (in dark glasses left) at perhaps a school function.
Mrs Olive Anthony is to his left and far right is Mr AET Barrow who had
served as Secretary to the Anglo-Indian Association
 for the better part of half a century. Frank Anthony seemed to have been the natural successor to
Sir Henry Gidney 9 July, 1873-1942. 
(Pic: Warren Hopkins who had studied in
FAPS, Delhi)

Naini Tal mid-Feb 2014

Pics: Husband Craig Mac

Faye (Shepherd) McFarland with her sons
Dallas in lap and Aden

Family picnic at Lucknow Zoo

Standing from left is my mum, Aunts Maude, Irene, behind her hidden is Nora Da Gama, Unk Ken, Aunt Ivy, Walty Mr Dubois (Nora's brother in the solar topi), Mrs George (Denzil Da Gama's sister) and your Nana. Lourain has the Rosario sisters around her. One head in front of Walty I don't recognize. The 5 Shepherd boys and Patrick Flynn and the servant girls and someone's doggy. 

Nora was the widow of George Percival, your nana's eldest brother. 

Michael Halge and Masood Huq

Michael Halge (left), who taught in La Martiniere College before he moved to Australia and a former student of his, Masood Huq. Michael's brother David also taught in the Mart.
This was taken from Masood's facebook page that had the caption that follows: Masood Huq
And the man who MENTORED me in LKO. And changed my life forever. Never shall I forget him. CLASS. SHEER CLASS!

Sab Chalta hai! --By Basil Joseph

This poem, written Late Basil Joseph, Head Master of St Francis' College, Lucknow for many years was published in the Northern India Patrika, Lucknow in the 1980's.

SAB CHALTA HAI!

Do what you like, just pay the cut;
You will get off with murder -- but
Without it, Life's not worth a nut,
Sab chalta hai!

You dare not take the drug you need;
The thing is spurious -- so take heed;
Unless you wish to run to seed.
Sab chalta hai!

Be careful when you take your booze;
Unless you wish to blow your fuse;
It may induce perpetual snooze,
Sab chalta hai!

Or is your petrol mixed with water?
Or is it dung or pepper powder?
Or is your khoya blotting paper?
Sab chalta hai!

And so they'll yell, "Angrezi Hatao";
In English schools "bharti karvao"
Or else the principal gherao,
Sab chalta hai!

Of  Piety is this a test?
At dead of night (O what a pest!),
Loudspeakers pierce each human nest;
While bhajans mar e'en God's good rest!
Sab chalta hai!

Encroachments! Lord, is there a cure?
You dodge the cow, so end your tenure,
And land in man-hole or manure!
Sab chalta hai!

Jai Bharat! We've been free for years,
The Harijans still live like curs,
Their women raped -- but all one hears,
Sab chalta hai!

The wives are hounded for dowry,
Husbands demand it to the cowrie,
What if you find the flames so fiery!
Sab chalta hai!

In daylight hoodlums crimes commit;
The Law couldn't care a fig for it,
The politician's hand's in it,
Sab chalta hai!

You have the dacoits all at bay;
In false encounters get 'badle'
O women! Women! Keep away,
Sab chalte hai!

Your honour gone, they'll gouge your eyes;
You'd better say you fond goodbyes,
The Supreme Court's shocked  -- but all one cries,
"Sab chalta hai!"

'Tween cop, the culprit, 'khaddar' cap,
The citizen finds no solid gap;
They all flow from the same old tap
Sab chalta hai!

So what's the use, yaar, of being holy,
When all the world's so topsy-turvy;
So make your whack, or 'tis your folly,
Sab chalta hai!

Everybody's doing it, yaar,
From gov'nor to the last 'gadaar',
To prove the law is not a bar,
Sab chalta hai!

'Sandstones' of time!

The pic is courtesy Shehan McGrath's FB account 

THE sandstone steps running the length of Constantia's east terrace were more than steps to the students way back in the 1960's. They were used for sitting and chatting or reading, or just to sit and gaze across the lake into the distance, beyond the Lat, waiting for the dinner bell to ring, while on weekends we sat there and watched some of the best 16 mm Hollywood movies that the VP, Mr Frank De Souza procured. They were also used by small chaps to play a game called 'Steps' that required a tennis ball. I don't know whether this game has survived!
But first-time visitors to the Mart have always expressed amazement when they see the hundreds of names engraved on them, no less than the old boys who come back after 60 years and more, to find their own still there! Some names go back perhaps a century. This must be unique and also bizarre, when one thinks of the struggle the world over to preserve heritage sites. How this tradition crept in is not known but every boy joining the Mart wants to add his name. Of course, considering the thousands that have passed out from here it's fortunate that only a few names are added each year.
Having one's name on the steps meant: 'I am a Martinian'! Yes, boys were very proud as Martinians way back in the 1960's and before. I cannot peak for the following generations but do hope it is that way today as well!
Three years is the minimum a boy should be on the college rolls before he can engrave his name. Luckily, once the first year passes most tend to forget about it, or feel it can be added any time and we all know how fast those 'golden years' fly. Those who do take advantage of the privilege put the year of joining but few remember to add the year of leaving!
When the chisel and hammer has been acquired it's important to find a spot on the steps to fit one's name. I think that is near impossible (today). Then the lettering shouldn't be too bold and large because that doesn't make one a better Martinian. More important is the lack of space! Then it is important that one doesn't supplant or wipe out someone else's name.
Some names today are obscenely large. In the 1960's there was just one such name, that of  S. Alexander, on the bottom step not far from the canteen parapet. Boys were told that example was to be shunned. Over the years names can be found anywhere there are flagstones, in the house rooms, corridors, on the Lat steps and in the Bulls Ring!
It was once felt that more steps should be installed for the purpose, let's say against the bund opposite! But that may have been a joke!

Olga Shepherd funeral

A  small group of Roman Catholic sisters pray for the newly departed
soul after the crowd had trickled away.

Add caption

Mrs Olga Shepherd was buried at the Nishatganj Cemetery on Thursday, Nov 28, 2013. She had been in poor health for several months having spent a few days in hospital earlier this year. Her husband, Sidney Herbert Shepherd, who had retired as Suptd, Northern Railway, died in 1988.