SHARING
THE ST.MARY’S FAMILY NEWSLETTER
Winter 2010
As we draw to the end of another blissful year, memories of the passing year comes to the mind.
It was not just another year- it was a special year - a year that brought many happy moments that we treasure for years to come.
Years ago, when we started, we began with a vision that saw us playing a major role in chiseling the remarkable talent and nobility of character in the children of the neighborhood.
We began with the mission to give the child much more than just lessons in the books– we endeavored to give her wings…so that she could learn to fly. We strived to ignite a flame within the soul of child with a passion to learn and grow - to never give up and always be willing to try.
Inspired with the zeal, we forged ahead, year after year, giving our very best to every child that passed through the portals of St. Mary’s. Many have found their niche in the world today. No wonder so many of our students return year after to thank their alma mater for the schooling they received here.
Every morning , when I address the assembly of shinning and happy faces , a feeling comes over me; that very kids standing before me this lovely morning are unique persons in their In each I envision a Ratan Tata, a Saina Nehwal or Bill Gates….. and I say to myself “What a Wonderful; World!
The year that was: -
The extended holidays due to the extremity of weather, the elections and so on, hampered the regular flow of activities. Yet in spite of all this, we did manage to complete the courses and carry on extra-curricular activities such as painting, Rakhi-making contests and Christmas card making etc.
Last Saturday, the children of Playland and St. Mary’s went on an educational tour. We visited the Parle Biscuit factory in Patna City. The children thoroughly enjoyed the trip. They saw the process in the making of the Parle-G biscuit, right from the mixing of ingredient to the packing in the state of art factory. A film show was also arranged on the history of the Parle family. “It was a wonderful trip…we enjoyed ourselves!” quipped one of the students.
Newsmakers:
Shivam Sai Gupta of Class VIII has the distinction of being the youngest video game creator in India. His game Project Fateh under the UTV banner is now on the net [projectfateh.com].
St. Mary’s Tutorials :
Like previous years, our coaching program this year, attracted a large number of students from various schools of Patna, preparing for the entrance examination in leading public boarding schools in India. All our candidates were successful and have been selected in schools of their choice.
The Heart of a Teacher by Paula Fox
The child arrives like a mystery box…
with puzzle pieces inside
some of the pieces are broken or missing…
and others just seem to hide
But the HEART of a teacher can sort them out…
and help the child to see
the potential for greatness he has within…
a picture of what he can be
Her goal isn’t just to teach knowledge…
by filling the box with more parts
it’s putting the pieces together…
and creating a work of art
The process is painfully slow at times…
some need more help than others
each child is a work in progress…
with assorted shapes and colors
First she creates a classroom…
where the child can feel safe in school
where he never feels threatened or afraid to try…
and kindness is always the rule
She knows that a child
can achieve much more
when he feels secure inside
when he’s valued and loved…
and believes in himself
…and he has a sense of pride
She models and teaches good character…
and respect for one another
how to focus on strengths…not weaknesses
and how to encourage each other
She gives the child the freedom he needs…
to make choices on his own
so he learns to become more responsible…
and is able to stand alone
He’s taught to be strong and think for him…
as his soul and spirit heal
and the puzzle that’s taking shape inside…
has a much more positive feel
The child discovers the joy that comes…
from learning something new…
and his vision grows as he begins
to see all the things that he can do
A picture is formed as more pieces fit…
an image of the child within
with greater strength and confidence…
and a belief that he can win!
All because a hero was there…
in the HEART of a teacher who cared
enabling the child to become much more…
than he ever imagined…or dared
A teacher with a HEART for her children…
knows what teaching is all about
she may not have all the answers…
but on this…she has no doubt
When asked which subjects she loved to teach,
she answered this way and smiled…
“It’s not the subjects that matter…
It’s all about teaching the CHILD.
The Management and Staff of St. Mary’s Primary School wish and Your Family A Happy Christmas and Joy filled New Year
May God grant you always...
A sunbeam to warm you,
a moonbeam to charm you,
a sheltering Angel so nothing can harm you.
Laughter to cheer you.
Faithful friends near you.
And whenever you pray,
Heaven to hear you.
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Tuesday, April 06, 2010
I am facing one of the worst crises in the past three years. Things are not working out the way they should. Somwtimes there is a sinking feelings. But I am fortunate because I am able to see myself as I am in all my weakness. I pick myself up. I try to lift my drooping spirits and tell myself this too will pass.
Wednesday, March 03, 2010
This is a very inspiring piece of writing. Take time to read, it diegst it and let yourself go a chnage from within you.
THE LAND OF LOVE
If we really dropped illusions for what they can give us or deprive us of, we would be alert. The consequence of not doing this is terrifying and unescapable. We lose our capacity to love. If you wish to love, you must learn to see again. And if you wish to see, you must learn to give up your drug. It's as simple as that. Give up your dependency. Tear away the tentacles of society that have enveloped and suffocated your being. You must drop them.
Externally, everything will go on as before, but though you will continue to be in the world, you will no longer be of it. In your heart, you will now be free at last, if utterly alone. Your dependence on your drug will die. You don't have to go to the desert; you're right in the middle of people; you're enjoying them immensely. But they no longer have the power to make you happy or miserable. That's what aloneness means. In this solitude your dependence dies. The capacity to love is born. One no longer sees others as means of satisfying one's addiction.
Only someone who has attempted this knows the terrors of the process. It's like inviting yourself to die. It's like asking the poor drug addict to give up the only happiness he has ever known. How to replace it with the taste of bread and fruit and the clean taste of the morning air, the sweetness of the water of the mountain stream? While he is struggling with his withdrawal symptoms and the emptiness he experiences within himself now that his drug is gone, nothing can fill the emptiness except his drug. Can you imagine a life in which you refuse to enjoy or take pleasure in a single word of appreciation or to rest your head on anyone's shoulder for support? Think of a life in which you depend on no one emotionally, so that no one has the power to make you happy or miserable anymore.
You refuse to need any particular person or to be special to anyone or to call anyone your own. The birds of the air have their nests and the foxes their holes, but you will have nowhere to rest your head in your journey through life. If you ever get to this state, you will at last know what it means to see with a vision that is clear and unclouded by fear or desire. Every word there is measured. To see at last with a vision that is clear and unclouded by fear or desire. You will know what it means to love. But to come to the land of love, you must pass through the pains of death, for to love persons means to die to the need for persons, and to be utterly alone.
How would you ever get there? By a ceaseless awareness, by the infinite patience and compassion you would have for a drug addict. By developing a taste for the good things in life to counter the craving for your drug. What good things? The love of work which you enjoy doing for the love of itself; the love of laughter and intimacy with people to whom you do not cling and on whom you do not depend emotionally but whose company you enjoy. It will also help if you take on activities that you can do with your whole being, activities that you so love to do that while you're engaged in them success, recognition, and approval simply do not mean a thing to you. It will help, too, if you return to nature. Send the crowds away, go up to the mountains, and silently commune with trees and flowers and animals and birds, with sea and clouds and sky and stars.
I've told you what a spiritual exercise it is to gaze at things, to be aware of things around you. Hopefully, the words will drop, the concepts will drop, and you will see, you will make contact with reality. That is the cure for loneliness. Generally, we seek to cure our loneliness through emotional dependence on people, through gregariousness and noise. That is no cure. Get back to things, get back to nature, go up in the mountains. Then you will know that your heart has brought you to the vast desert of solitude, there is no one there at your side, absolutely no one.
At first this will seem unbearable. But it is only because you are unaccustomed to aloneness. If you manage to stay there for a while, the desert will suddenly blossom into love. Your heart will burst into song. And it will be springtime forever; the drug will be out; you're free. Then you will understand what freedom is, what love is, what happiness is, what reality is, what truth is, what God is. You will see, you will know beyond concepts and conditioning, addictions and attachments. Does that make sense?
Let me end this with a lovely story. There was a man who invented the art of making fire. He took his tools and went to a tribe in the north, where it was very cold, bitterly cold. He taught the people there to make fire. The people were very interested. He showed them the uses to which they could put fire - they could cook, could keep themselves warm, etc. They were so grateful that they had learned the art of making fire. But before they could express their gratitude to the man, he disappeared. He wasn't concerned with getting their recognition or gratitude; he was concerned about their well being. He went to another tribe, where he again began to show them the value of his invention.
People were interested there, too, a bit too interested for the peace of mind of their priests, who began to notice that this man was drawing crowds and they were losing their popularity. So they decided to do away with him. They poisoned him, crucified him, put it any way you like. But they were afraid now that the people might turn against them, so they were very wise, even wily. Do you know what they did? They had a portrait of the man made and mounted it on the main altar of the temple. The instruments for making fire were placed in front of the portrait, and the people were taught to revere the portrait and to pay reverence to the instruments of fire, which they dutifully did for centuries. The veneration and the worship went on, but there was no fire.
Where's the fire? Where's the love? Where's the drug uprooted from your system? Where's the freedom? This is what spirituality is all about. Tragically, we tend to lose sight of this, don't we? This is what Jesus Christ is all about. But we overemphasized the "Lord, Lord", didn't we? Where's the fire? And if worship isn't leading to the fire, if adoration isn't leading to love, if the liturgy isn't leading to a clearer perception of reality, if God isn't leading to life, of what use is religion except to create more division, more fanaticism, more antagonism? It is not from lack of religion in the ordinary sense of the word that the world is suffering, it is from lack of love, lack of awareness.
And love is generated through awareness and through no other way, no other way. Understand the obstructions you are putting in the way of love, freedom, and happiness and they will drop. Turn on the light of awareness and the darkness will disappear. Happiness is not something you acquire; love is not something you produce; love is not something that you have; love is something that has you. You do not have the wind, the stars, and the rain. You don't possess these things; you surrender to them. And surrender occurs when you are aware of your illusions, when you are aware of your addictions, when you are aware of your desires and fears. As I told you earlier, first, psychological insight is a great help, not analysis, however; analysis is paralysis. Insight is not necessarily analysis.
One of your great American therapists put it very well "It's the 'Aha' experience that counts". Merely analyzing gives no help; it just gives information. But if you could produce the "Aha" experience, that's insight. That is change. Second, the understanding of your addiction is important. You need time. Alas, so much time that is given to worship and singing praise and singing songs could so fruitfully be employed in self understanding. Community is not produced by joint liturgical celebrations. You know deep down in your heart, and so do I, that such celebrations only serve to paper over differences. Community is created by understanding the blocks that we put in the way of community, by understanding the conflicts that arise from our fears and our desires.
At that point community arises. We must always beware of making worship just another distraction from the important business of living. And living doesn't mean working in government, or being a big businessman, or performing great acts of charity. That isn't living. Living is to have dropped all the impediments and to live in the present moment with freshness. "The birds of the air . . . they neither toil nor spin" -- that is living. I began by saying that people are asleep, dead. Dead people running governments, dead people running big business, dead people educating others; come alive! Worship must help this, or else it's useless. And increasingly - you know this and so do I - we're losing the youth everywhere.
They hate us; they're not interested in having more fears and more guilts laid on them. They're not interested in more sermons and exhortations. But they are interested in learning about love. How can I be happy? How can I live? How can I taste these marvelous things that the mystics speak of? So that's the second thing - understanding. Third, don't identify. Somebody asked me as I was coming here today, "Do you ever feel low"? Boy, do I feel low every now and then. I get my attacks. But they don't last, they really don't. What do I do? First step I don't identify. Here comes a low feeling. Instead of getting tense about it, instead of getting irritated with myself about it, I understand I'm feeling depressed, disappointed, or whatever. Second step I admit the feeling is in me, not in the other person, e.g., in the person who didn't write me a letter, not in the exterior world; it's in me.
Because as long as I think it's outside me, I feel justified in holding on to my feelings. I can't say everybody would feel this way; in fact, only idiotic people would feel this way, only sleeping people. Third step I don't identify with the feeling. "I" is not that feeling. "I" am not lonely, "I" am not depressed, "I" am not disappointed. Disappointment is there, one watches it. You'd be amazed how quickly it glides away. Anything you're aware of keeps changing; clouds keep moving. As you do this, you also get all kinds of insights into why clouds were coming in the first place.
I've got a lovely quote here, a few sentences that I would write in gold. I picked them up from A. S. Neil’s book Summerhill. I must give you the background. You probably know that Neill was in education for forty years. He developed a kind of maverick school. He took in boys and girls and just let them be free. You want to learn to read and write, fine; you don't want to learn to read and write, fine. You can do anything you want with your life, provided you don't interfere with the freedom of someone else. Don't interfere with someone else's freedom; otherwise you're free. He says that the worst ones came to him from convent school. This was in the old days, of course.
He said it took them about six months to get over all the anger and the resentment that they had repressed. They'd be rebelling for six months, fighting the system. The worst was a girl who would take a bicycle and ride into town, avoiding class, avoiding school, avoiding everything. But once they got over their rebellion, everybody wanted to learn; they even began protesting, "Why don't we have class today"? But they would only take what they were interested in. They'd be transformed. In the beginning parents were frightened to send their children to this school; they said, "How can you educate them if you don't discipline them? You've got to teach them, guide them".
What was the secret of Neill's success? He'd get the worst children, the ones everybody else had despaired of, and within six months they'd all be transformed. Listen to what he said - extraordinary words, holy words. "Every child has a god in him. Our attempts to mold the child will turn the god into a devil. Children come to my school, little devils, hating the world, destructive, unmannerly, lying, thieving, bad tempered. In six months they are happy, healthy children who do no evil". These are amazing words coming from a man whose school in Britain is regularly inspected by people from the Ministry of Education, by any headmaster or headmistress or anyone who would care to go there. Amazing. It was his charisma.
You don't do this kind of thing from a blueprint; you've got to be a special kind of person. In some of his lectures to headmasters and headmistresses he says, "Come to Summerhill and you'll find that all the fruit trees are laden with fruit; nobody's taking the fruits off the trees; there's no desire to attack authority; they're well fed and there's no resentment and anger. Come to Summerhill and you'll never find a handicapped child with a nickname (you know how cruel kids can be when someone stammers). You'll never find anyone needling a stammerer, never. There's no violence in those children, because no one is practicing violence on them, that's why". Listen to these words of revelation, sacred words.
We have people in the world like this. No matter what scholars and priests and theologians tell you, there are and have been people who have no quarrels, no jealousies, no conflicts, no wars, no enmities, none! They exist in my country, or, sad to say, they existed until relatively recently. I've had Jesuit friends go out to live and work among people who, they assured me, were incapable of stealing or lying. One Sister said to me that when she went to the northeast of India to work among some tribes there, the people would lock up nothing. Nothing was ever stolen and they never told lies until the Indian government and missionaries showed up.
Every child has a god in him; our attempts to mold the child will turn the god into a devil.
There's a lovely Italian film directed by Federico Fellini, 8 1/2 In one scene there's a Christian Brother going out on a picnic or excursion with a group of eight to ten year old boys. They're on a beach, moving right on ahead while the Brother brings up the rear with three or four of them around him. They come across an older woman who's a whore, and they say to her, "Hi", and she says, "Hi". And they say, "Who are you"? And she says, "I'm a prostitute". They don't know what that is but they pretend to. One of the boys, who seems a bit more knowing than the others, says, "A prostitute is a woman who does certain things if you pay her". They ask, "Would she do those things if we paid her"? "Why not"? the answer came.
So they take up a collection and give her the money, saying, "Would you do certain things now that we've given you the money"? She answers, "Sure, kids, what do you want me to do"? The only thing that occurs to the kids is for her to take her clothes off. So she does. Well, they look at her; they've never seen a woman naked before. They don't know what else to do, so they say, "Would you dance"? She says, "Sure". So they all gather round singing and clapping; the whore is moving her behind and they're enjoying themselves immensely. The Brother sees all this. He runs down the beach and yells at the woman. He gets her to put her clothes on, and the narrator says, "At that moment, the children were spoiled; until then they were innocent, beautiful".
This is not an unusual problem. I know a rather conservative missionary in India' a Jesuit. He came to a workshop of mine. As I developed this theme over two days, he suffered. He came to me the second night and said, "Tony, I can't explain to you how much I'm suffering listening to you". I said, "Why, Stan"? He said, "You're reviving within me a question that I suppressed for twenty five years, a horrible question. Again and again I asked myself: Have I not spoiled my people by making them Christian"? This Jesuit was not one of your liberals, he was an orthodox, devout, pious, conservative man. But he felt he spoiled a happy, loving, simple, guileless people by making them Christian.
American missionaries who went to the South Sea Islands with their wives were horrified to see women coming bare breasted to church. The wives insisted that the women should be more decently dressed. So the missionaries gave them shirts to wear. The following Sunday the women came wearing their shirts but with two big holes cut out for comfort' for ventilation. They were right; the missionaries were wrong.
Now . . . back to Neill. He says, "And I am no genius, I am merely a man who refuses to guide the steps of children". But what, then, of original sin? Neill says that every child has a god in him; our attempts to mold him will turn the god into a devil. He lets children form their own values, and the values are invariably good and social. Can you believe that? When a child feels loved (which means when a child feels you're on his side), he's O.K. The child doesn't experience violence anymore. No fear, so no violence. The child begins to treat others the way he has been treated.
You've got to read that book. It's a holy book, it really is. Read it; it revolutionized my life and my dealings with people. I began to see miracles. I began to see the self dissatisfaction that had been ingrained in me, the competition, the comparisons, the that's notgoodenough, etc. You might object that if they hadn't pushed me, I wouldn't have become what I am. Did I need all that pushing? And anyway, who wants to be what I am? I want to be happy, I want to be holy, I want to be loving, I want to be at peace, I want to be free, I want to be human.
Do you know where wars come from? They come from projecting outside of us the conflict that is inside. Show me an individual in whom there is no inner self conflict and I'll show you an individual in whom there is no violence. There will be effective, even hard, action in him, but no hatred. When he acts, he acts as a surgeon acts; when he acts, he acts as a loving teacher acts with mentally retarded children. You don't blame them, you understand; but you swing into action. On the other hand, when you swing into action with your own hatred and your own violence un-addressed, you've compounded the error. You've tried to put fire out with more fire. You've tried to deal with a flood by adding water to it. I repeat what Neill said "Every child has a god in him.
Our attempts to mold the child will turn the god into a devil. Children come to my school, little devils, hating the world, destructive, unmannerly, lying, thieving, bad tempered. In six months they are happy, healthy children who do no evil. And I am no genius, I am merely a man who refuses to guide the steps of children. I let them form their own values and the values are invariably good and social. The religion that makes people good makes people bad, but the religion known as freedom makes all people good, for it destroys the inner conflict [I've added the word "inner"] that makes people devils".
Neill also says, "The first thing I do when a child comes to Summerhill is destroy its conscience". I assume you know what he's talking about, because I know what he's talking about. You don't need conscience when you have consciousness; you don't need conscience when you have sensitivity. You're not violent, you're not fearful. You probably think this is an unattainable ideal. Well, read that book. I have run into individuals, here and there, who suddenly stumble upon this truth: The root of evil is within you. As you begin to understand this, you stop making demands on yourself, you stop having expectations of yourself, you stop pushing yourself and you understand. Nourish yourself on wholesome food, good wholesome food. I'm not talking about actual food, I'm talking about sunsets, about nature, about a good movie, about a good book, about enjoyable work, about good company, and hopefully you will break your addictions to those other feelings.
What kind of feeling comes upon you when you're in touch with nature, or when you're absorbed in work that you love? Or when you're really conversing with someone whose company you enjoy in openness and intimacy without clinging? What kind of feelings do you have? Compare those feelings with the feelings you have when you win an argument, or when you win a race, or when you become popular, or when everybody's applauding you. The latter feelings I call worldly feelings; the former feelings I call soul feelings. Lots of people gain the world and lose their soul. Lots of people live empty, soulless lives because they're feeding themselves on popularity, appreciation, and praise, on "I'm O.K., you're O.K"., look at me, attend to me, support me, value me, on being the boss, on having power, on winning the race. Do you feed yourself on that? If you do, you're dead. You've lost your soul. Feed yourself on other, more nourishing material. Then you'll see the transformation. I've given you a whole program for life, haven't I?
From Fr. Tony DeMello's book.
THE LAND OF LOVE
If we really dropped illusions for what they can give us or deprive us of, we would be alert. The consequence of not doing this is terrifying and unescapable. We lose our capacity to love. If you wish to love, you must learn to see again. And if you wish to see, you must learn to give up your drug. It's as simple as that. Give up your dependency. Tear away the tentacles of society that have enveloped and suffocated your being. You must drop them.
Externally, everything will go on as before, but though you will continue to be in the world, you will no longer be of it. In your heart, you will now be free at last, if utterly alone. Your dependence on your drug will die. You don't have to go to the desert; you're right in the middle of people; you're enjoying them immensely. But they no longer have the power to make you happy or miserable. That's what aloneness means. In this solitude your dependence dies. The capacity to love is born. One no longer sees others as means of satisfying one's addiction.
Only someone who has attempted this knows the terrors of the process. It's like inviting yourself to die. It's like asking the poor drug addict to give up the only happiness he has ever known. How to replace it with the taste of bread and fruit and the clean taste of the morning air, the sweetness of the water of the mountain stream? While he is struggling with his withdrawal symptoms and the emptiness he experiences within himself now that his drug is gone, nothing can fill the emptiness except his drug. Can you imagine a life in which you refuse to enjoy or take pleasure in a single word of appreciation or to rest your head on anyone's shoulder for support? Think of a life in which you depend on no one emotionally, so that no one has the power to make you happy or miserable anymore.
You refuse to need any particular person or to be special to anyone or to call anyone your own. The birds of the air have their nests and the foxes their holes, but you will have nowhere to rest your head in your journey through life. If you ever get to this state, you will at last know what it means to see with a vision that is clear and unclouded by fear or desire. Every word there is measured. To see at last with a vision that is clear and unclouded by fear or desire. You will know what it means to love. But to come to the land of love, you must pass through the pains of death, for to love persons means to die to the need for persons, and to be utterly alone.
How would you ever get there? By a ceaseless awareness, by the infinite patience and compassion you would have for a drug addict. By developing a taste for the good things in life to counter the craving for your drug. What good things? The love of work which you enjoy doing for the love of itself; the love of laughter and intimacy with people to whom you do not cling and on whom you do not depend emotionally but whose company you enjoy. It will also help if you take on activities that you can do with your whole being, activities that you so love to do that while you're engaged in them success, recognition, and approval simply do not mean a thing to you. It will help, too, if you return to nature. Send the crowds away, go up to the mountains, and silently commune with trees and flowers and animals and birds, with sea and clouds and sky and stars.
I've told you what a spiritual exercise it is to gaze at things, to be aware of things around you. Hopefully, the words will drop, the concepts will drop, and you will see, you will make contact with reality. That is the cure for loneliness. Generally, we seek to cure our loneliness through emotional dependence on people, through gregariousness and noise. That is no cure. Get back to things, get back to nature, go up in the mountains. Then you will know that your heart has brought you to the vast desert of solitude, there is no one there at your side, absolutely no one.
At first this will seem unbearable. But it is only because you are unaccustomed to aloneness. If you manage to stay there for a while, the desert will suddenly blossom into love. Your heart will burst into song. And it will be springtime forever; the drug will be out; you're free. Then you will understand what freedom is, what love is, what happiness is, what reality is, what truth is, what God is. You will see, you will know beyond concepts and conditioning, addictions and attachments. Does that make sense?
Let me end this with a lovely story. There was a man who invented the art of making fire. He took his tools and went to a tribe in the north, where it was very cold, bitterly cold. He taught the people there to make fire. The people were very interested. He showed them the uses to which they could put fire - they could cook, could keep themselves warm, etc. They were so grateful that they had learned the art of making fire. But before they could express their gratitude to the man, he disappeared. He wasn't concerned with getting their recognition or gratitude; he was concerned about their well being. He went to another tribe, where he again began to show them the value of his invention.
People were interested there, too, a bit too interested for the peace of mind of their priests, who began to notice that this man was drawing crowds and they were losing their popularity. So they decided to do away with him. They poisoned him, crucified him, put it any way you like. But they were afraid now that the people might turn against them, so they were very wise, even wily. Do you know what they did? They had a portrait of the man made and mounted it on the main altar of the temple. The instruments for making fire were placed in front of the portrait, and the people were taught to revere the portrait and to pay reverence to the instruments of fire, which they dutifully did for centuries. The veneration and the worship went on, but there was no fire.
Where's the fire? Where's the love? Where's the drug uprooted from your system? Where's the freedom? This is what spirituality is all about. Tragically, we tend to lose sight of this, don't we? This is what Jesus Christ is all about. But we overemphasized the "Lord, Lord", didn't we? Where's the fire? And if worship isn't leading to the fire, if adoration isn't leading to love, if the liturgy isn't leading to a clearer perception of reality, if God isn't leading to life, of what use is religion except to create more division, more fanaticism, more antagonism? It is not from lack of religion in the ordinary sense of the word that the world is suffering, it is from lack of love, lack of awareness.
And love is generated through awareness and through no other way, no other way. Understand the obstructions you are putting in the way of love, freedom, and happiness and they will drop. Turn on the light of awareness and the darkness will disappear. Happiness is not something you acquire; love is not something you produce; love is not something that you have; love is something that has you. You do not have the wind, the stars, and the rain. You don't possess these things; you surrender to them. And surrender occurs when you are aware of your illusions, when you are aware of your addictions, when you are aware of your desires and fears. As I told you earlier, first, psychological insight is a great help, not analysis, however; analysis is paralysis. Insight is not necessarily analysis.
One of your great American therapists put it very well "It's the 'Aha' experience that counts". Merely analyzing gives no help; it just gives information. But if you could produce the "Aha" experience, that's insight. That is change. Second, the understanding of your addiction is important. You need time. Alas, so much time that is given to worship and singing praise and singing songs could so fruitfully be employed in self understanding. Community is not produced by joint liturgical celebrations. You know deep down in your heart, and so do I, that such celebrations only serve to paper over differences. Community is created by understanding the blocks that we put in the way of community, by understanding the conflicts that arise from our fears and our desires.
At that point community arises. We must always beware of making worship just another distraction from the important business of living. And living doesn't mean working in government, or being a big businessman, or performing great acts of charity. That isn't living. Living is to have dropped all the impediments and to live in the present moment with freshness. "The birds of the air . . . they neither toil nor spin" -- that is living. I began by saying that people are asleep, dead. Dead people running governments, dead people running big business, dead people educating others; come alive! Worship must help this, or else it's useless. And increasingly - you know this and so do I - we're losing the youth everywhere.
They hate us; they're not interested in having more fears and more guilts laid on them. They're not interested in more sermons and exhortations. But they are interested in learning about love. How can I be happy? How can I live? How can I taste these marvelous things that the mystics speak of? So that's the second thing - understanding. Third, don't identify. Somebody asked me as I was coming here today, "Do you ever feel low"? Boy, do I feel low every now and then. I get my attacks. But they don't last, they really don't. What do I do? First step I don't identify. Here comes a low feeling. Instead of getting tense about it, instead of getting irritated with myself about it, I understand I'm feeling depressed, disappointed, or whatever. Second step I admit the feeling is in me, not in the other person, e.g., in the person who didn't write me a letter, not in the exterior world; it's in me.
Because as long as I think it's outside me, I feel justified in holding on to my feelings. I can't say everybody would feel this way; in fact, only idiotic people would feel this way, only sleeping people. Third step I don't identify with the feeling. "I" is not that feeling. "I" am not lonely, "I" am not depressed, "I" am not disappointed. Disappointment is there, one watches it. You'd be amazed how quickly it glides away. Anything you're aware of keeps changing; clouds keep moving. As you do this, you also get all kinds of insights into why clouds were coming in the first place.
I've got a lovely quote here, a few sentences that I would write in gold. I picked them up from A. S. Neil’s book Summerhill. I must give you the background. You probably know that Neill was in education for forty years. He developed a kind of maverick school. He took in boys and girls and just let them be free. You want to learn to read and write, fine; you don't want to learn to read and write, fine. You can do anything you want with your life, provided you don't interfere with the freedom of someone else. Don't interfere with someone else's freedom; otherwise you're free. He says that the worst ones came to him from convent school. This was in the old days, of course.
He said it took them about six months to get over all the anger and the resentment that they had repressed. They'd be rebelling for six months, fighting the system. The worst was a girl who would take a bicycle and ride into town, avoiding class, avoiding school, avoiding everything. But once they got over their rebellion, everybody wanted to learn; they even began protesting, "Why don't we have class today"? But they would only take what they were interested in. They'd be transformed. In the beginning parents were frightened to send their children to this school; they said, "How can you educate them if you don't discipline them? You've got to teach them, guide them".
What was the secret of Neill's success? He'd get the worst children, the ones everybody else had despaired of, and within six months they'd all be transformed. Listen to what he said - extraordinary words, holy words. "Every child has a god in him. Our attempts to mold the child will turn the god into a devil. Children come to my school, little devils, hating the world, destructive, unmannerly, lying, thieving, bad tempered. In six months they are happy, healthy children who do no evil". These are amazing words coming from a man whose school in Britain is regularly inspected by people from the Ministry of Education, by any headmaster or headmistress or anyone who would care to go there. Amazing. It was his charisma.
You don't do this kind of thing from a blueprint; you've got to be a special kind of person. In some of his lectures to headmasters and headmistresses he says, "Come to Summerhill and you'll find that all the fruit trees are laden with fruit; nobody's taking the fruits off the trees; there's no desire to attack authority; they're well fed and there's no resentment and anger. Come to Summerhill and you'll never find a handicapped child with a nickname (you know how cruel kids can be when someone stammers). You'll never find anyone needling a stammerer, never. There's no violence in those children, because no one is practicing violence on them, that's why". Listen to these words of revelation, sacred words.
We have people in the world like this. No matter what scholars and priests and theologians tell you, there are and have been people who have no quarrels, no jealousies, no conflicts, no wars, no enmities, none! They exist in my country, or, sad to say, they existed until relatively recently. I've had Jesuit friends go out to live and work among people who, they assured me, were incapable of stealing or lying. One Sister said to me that when she went to the northeast of India to work among some tribes there, the people would lock up nothing. Nothing was ever stolen and they never told lies until the Indian government and missionaries showed up.
Every child has a god in him; our attempts to mold the child will turn the god into a devil.
There's a lovely Italian film directed by Federico Fellini, 8 1/2 In one scene there's a Christian Brother going out on a picnic or excursion with a group of eight to ten year old boys. They're on a beach, moving right on ahead while the Brother brings up the rear with three or four of them around him. They come across an older woman who's a whore, and they say to her, "Hi", and she says, "Hi". And they say, "Who are you"? And she says, "I'm a prostitute". They don't know what that is but they pretend to. One of the boys, who seems a bit more knowing than the others, says, "A prostitute is a woman who does certain things if you pay her". They ask, "Would she do those things if we paid her"? "Why not"? the answer came.
So they take up a collection and give her the money, saying, "Would you do certain things now that we've given you the money"? She answers, "Sure, kids, what do you want me to do"? The only thing that occurs to the kids is for her to take her clothes off. So she does. Well, they look at her; they've never seen a woman naked before. They don't know what else to do, so they say, "Would you dance"? She says, "Sure". So they all gather round singing and clapping; the whore is moving her behind and they're enjoying themselves immensely. The Brother sees all this. He runs down the beach and yells at the woman. He gets her to put her clothes on, and the narrator says, "At that moment, the children were spoiled; until then they were innocent, beautiful".
This is not an unusual problem. I know a rather conservative missionary in India' a Jesuit. He came to a workshop of mine. As I developed this theme over two days, he suffered. He came to me the second night and said, "Tony, I can't explain to you how much I'm suffering listening to you". I said, "Why, Stan"? He said, "You're reviving within me a question that I suppressed for twenty five years, a horrible question. Again and again I asked myself: Have I not spoiled my people by making them Christian"? This Jesuit was not one of your liberals, he was an orthodox, devout, pious, conservative man. But he felt he spoiled a happy, loving, simple, guileless people by making them Christian.
American missionaries who went to the South Sea Islands with their wives were horrified to see women coming bare breasted to church. The wives insisted that the women should be more decently dressed. So the missionaries gave them shirts to wear. The following Sunday the women came wearing their shirts but with two big holes cut out for comfort' for ventilation. They were right; the missionaries were wrong.
Now . . . back to Neill. He says, "And I am no genius, I am merely a man who refuses to guide the steps of children". But what, then, of original sin? Neill says that every child has a god in him; our attempts to mold him will turn the god into a devil. He lets children form their own values, and the values are invariably good and social. Can you believe that? When a child feels loved (which means when a child feels you're on his side), he's O.K. The child doesn't experience violence anymore. No fear, so no violence. The child begins to treat others the way he has been treated.
You've got to read that book. It's a holy book, it really is. Read it; it revolutionized my life and my dealings with people. I began to see miracles. I began to see the self dissatisfaction that had been ingrained in me, the competition, the comparisons, the that's notgoodenough, etc. You might object that if they hadn't pushed me, I wouldn't have become what I am. Did I need all that pushing? And anyway, who wants to be what I am? I want to be happy, I want to be holy, I want to be loving, I want to be at peace, I want to be free, I want to be human.
Do you know where wars come from? They come from projecting outside of us the conflict that is inside. Show me an individual in whom there is no inner self conflict and I'll show you an individual in whom there is no violence. There will be effective, even hard, action in him, but no hatred. When he acts, he acts as a surgeon acts; when he acts, he acts as a loving teacher acts with mentally retarded children. You don't blame them, you understand; but you swing into action. On the other hand, when you swing into action with your own hatred and your own violence un-addressed, you've compounded the error. You've tried to put fire out with more fire. You've tried to deal with a flood by adding water to it. I repeat what Neill said "Every child has a god in him.
Our attempts to mold the child will turn the god into a devil. Children come to my school, little devils, hating the world, destructive, unmannerly, lying, thieving, bad tempered. In six months they are happy, healthy children who do no evil. And I am no genius, I am merely a man who refuses to guide the steps of children. I let them form their own values and the values are invariably good and social. The religion that makes people good makes people bad, but the religion known as freedom makes all people good, for it destroys the inner conflict [I've added the word "inner"] that makes people devils".
Neill also says, "The first thing I do when a child comes to Summerhill is destroy its conscience". I assume you know what he's talking about, because I know what he's talking about. You don't need conscience when you have consciousness; you don't need conscience when you have sensitivity. You're not violent, you're not fearful. You probably think this is an unattainable ideal. Well, read that book. I have run into individuals, here and there, who suddenly stumble upon this truth: The root of evil is within you. As you begin to understand this, you stop making demands on yourself, you stop having expectations of yourself, you stop pushing yourself and you understand. Nourish yourself on wholesome food, good wholesome food. I'm not talking about actual food, I'm talking about sunsets, about nature, about a good movie, about a good book, about enjoyable work, about good company, and hopefully you will break your addictions to those other feelings.
What kind of feeling comes upon you when you're in touch with nature, or when you're absorbed in work that you love? Or when you're really conversing with someone whose company you enjoy in openness and intimacy without clinging? What kind of feelings do you have? Compare those feelings with the feelings you have when you win an argument, or when you win a race, or when you become popular, or when everybody's applauding you. The latter feelings I call worldly feelings; the former feelings I call soul feelings. Lots of people gain the world and lose their soul. Lots of people live empty, soulless lives because they're feeding themselves on popularity, appreciation, and praise, on "I'm O.K., you're O.K"., look at me, attend to me, support me, value me, on being the boss, on having power, on winning the race. Do you feed yourself on that? If you do, you're dead. You've lost your soul. Feed yourself on other, more nourishing material. Then you'll see the transformation. I've given you a whole program for life, haven't I?
From Fr. Tony DeMello's book.
Sunday, May 03, 2009
Tribute Sister PC , A Great Communicator of Patna
Patna: On the 29th of April, Sister Mary Peter Claver ND [86]
one, of the most loved and respected nun of Patna breathed her last at the Regina Health Center, Richfield USA.
Sister Peter Claver, fondly called Sister PC, was missioned to India in 1961.
She ministered as high school teacher and principal but is best known as the American Sister who founded the Notre Dame Communication Center in Patna in 1977. The Center provides education and training in communications for young people in India. Its goal is to make the latest technology available to all sections of society. The NDCC is one of her great gifts to the youth of Bihar.
Sister PC served for 31 years in India with sensitivity and compassion, empowering others and bringing much vibrancy and joy to her sisters and collaborators.
When she returned to the United States in 1993, she continued her evangelization and work with the poor in several parishes in Cleveland, Ohio.
Wherever she was, she spread the gospel with dedication, honesty, vitality, and enthusiasm.
In 2004, Sister moved to the Provincial Center and assisted with pastoral care in the Health Care Center. When her dementia progressed and her physical condition deteriorated, Sister PC became a resident at Regina Health Center. Here she
continued to raise the spirits of others and give care and comfort to those she touched each day. Her smile, her laughter, her respect for others were contagious.
Sister Josita , now in charge of the NDCC says, “I had the joy and the challenge of working with her for 7 long years. She was indeed a committed and visionary leader. Nothing seemed to stand on her way of accomplishing the task. She walked the talk. She was a person much ahead of her time. She inspired many women to join the media communication. “
Sister PC was the vice president of All India catholic communicators organization (SIGNIS) FROM 1985-1988
All us of the media family are sad. We have lost a true friend and guide .
May her soul rest in Peace.
Allen Johannes
Press Secretary Archdiocese of Patna
Patna: On the 29th of April, Sister Mary Peter Claver ND [86]
one, of the most loved and respected nun of Patna breathed her last at the Regina Health Center, Richfield USA.
Sister Peter Claver, fondly called Sister PC, was missioned to India in 1961.
She ministered as high school teacher and principal but is best known as the American Sister who founded the Notre Dame Communication Center in Patna in 1977. The Center provides education and training in communications for young people in India. Its goal is to make the latest technology available to all sections of society. The NDCC is one of her great gifts to the youth of Bihar.
Sister PC served for 31 years in India with sensitivity and compassion, empowering others and bringing much vibrancy and joy to her sisters and collaborators.
When she returned to the United States in 1993, she continued her evangelization and work with the poor in several parishes in Cleveland, Ohio.
Wherever she was, she spread the gospel with dedication, honesty, vitality, and enthusiasm.
In 2004, Sister moved to the Provincial Center and assisted with pastoral care in the Health Care Center. When her dementia progressed and her physical condition deteriorated, Sister PC became a resident at Regina Health Center. Here she
continued to raise the spirits of others and give care and comfort to those she touched each day. Her smile, her laughter, her respect for others were contagious.
Sister Josita , now in charge of the NDCC says, “I had the joy and the challenge of working with her for 7 long years. She was indeed a committed and visionary leader. Nothing seemed to stand on her way of accomplishing the task. She walked the talk. She was a person much ahead of her time. She inspired many women to join the media communication. “
Sister PC was the vice president of All India catholic communicators organization (SIGNIS) FROM 1985-1988
All us of the media family are sad. We have lost a true friend and guide .
May her soul rest in Peace.
Allen Johannes
Press Secretary Archdiocese of Patna
Pix by Siddhant Anthony Johannes
The St. Mary’s Choir - How Sweet the sound.
Easter Services this year was a blissful and memorable one for me.
I had the good fortune attending services in the St. Mary’s Parish Church,
Ripon Street, Kolkata.
The Sunday prayer service was truly inspiring .The Choir of St. Mary’s
Church made the worship more meaningful and fulfilling than ever.
The singing was simply soul-lifting.
Every hymn was perfectly presented. Every hymn was inspiring.
It is like a feeling which overtakes you like when you attend a live show
of your favorite band.
You feel drawn to join the singers in praise of the Lord.
I have heard many choirs before in different places, I have yet come across
a choir as good the St. Mary’s Choir.
At the end of the service, a sense of gratitude overcame me…..I whispered a
thank you to God for giving the opportunity to feast on such beautiful music.
The choir has been there since the beginning of the church.
Year after year, talented people like Michael Monier and Charles Sasoon
and friends have faithfully come together for sessions of practice where hymns
and selected, created and recreated , till they become perfect for the final
presentation in the church.
The members of the choir sing because they love singing for the Lord.
There are not after fame or money. They have often been asked to perform
and have been offered handsome emoluments, they have been asked to
record their song commercially, but they have gracefully declined such offers.
“We do it for God and that is ! ” says Michael Monier.
That Sunday the choir presented some of the most beautiful hymns such as
“Handel’s Alleluia Chorus”, a hymn rendered on the tune of Elvis Presley’s
“Can’t help fallen in love with you,” and many others.
People coming to this church for the first time, go back home spiritually charged
carrying in their hearts a part of the hymn.
The St. Mary’s Choir - How Sweet the sound.
Easter Services this year was a blissful and memorable one for me.
I had the good fortune attending services in the St. Mary’s Parish Church,
Ripon Street, Kolkata.
The Sunday prayer service was truly inspiring .The Choir of St. Mary’s
Church made the worship more meaningful and fulfilling than ever.
The singing was simply soul-lifting.
Every hymn was perfectly presented. Every hymn was inspiring.
It is like a feeling which overtakes you like when you attend a live show
of your favorite band.
You feel drawn to join the singers in praise of the Lord.
I have heard many choirs before in different places, I have yet come across
a choir as good the St. Mary’s Choir.
At the end of the service, a sense of gratitude overcame me…..I whispered a
thank you to God for giving the opportunity to feast on such beautiful music.
The choir has been there since the beginning of the church.
Year after year, talented people like Michael Monier and Charles Sasoon
and friends have faithfully come together for sessions of practice where hymns
and selected, created and recreated , till they become perfect for the final
presentation in the church.
The members of the choir sing because they love singing for the Lord.
There are not after fame or money. They have often been asked to perform
and have been offered handsome emoluments, they have been asked to
record their song commercially, but they have gracefully declined such offers.
“We do it for God and that is ! ” says Michael Monier.
That Sunday the choir presented some of the most beautiful hymns such as
“Handel’s Alleluia Chorus”, a hymn rendered on the tune of Elvis Presley’s
“Can’t help fallen in love with you,” and many others.
People coming to this church for the first time, go back home spiritually charged
carrying in their hearts a part of the hymn.
Friday, February 06, 2009
Memories Don’t Leave Like People Do.
Some days back, my friend and buddy Sajid Khan [70’s batch], President of the St. Michael’s School Alumni requested me [1966 batch] to jot down some memories of my from school life old St. Mikes.
They say ‘memories don’t leave like people do’. In many ways, I think it’s true.
Today when I around me I barely see or meet guys from my school years. They’ve all left for greener pastures years ago, scattered by the winds of change. Except me perhaps. I opted for what I call the green, green grass of home.
I’ve had my share of wanderlust and now that phase seems to be over.
Those were the days my friend:
Life was, and is still very exciting and challenging. I’ve had some real good times. I cherish memories of them.
I’ve also weathered tough times – they’ve taught me some valuable lessons.
The most memorable days in my life were the wonderful years I spent as a boy in St. Michael’s school.
I joined St. Michael’s School Kurji, way back in in 1956 or 57 - don’t recall the exact year. The kind and loving Br. Murphy CFC, took me in as boarder.
The Christian Brothers, inspired by the vision of their founder, Blessed Edmund Ignatius Rice, were instrumental in giving many catholic boys like me a sound education backed by moral values that have stood us strong through our lives.
In fact I’d loved to become a Christian Brother but the Lord did not give me such a vocation. The Brothers taught us to be honest men, loyal citizens and true friends.
The Band of Brothers
Some of the great principals of St. Mikes, whose memories still live on in our hearts today, were Brothers Ponies , Murphy, D.F. Burke, Moynihan, T.A. Comber and. Dineen [ I may have my spelling wrong here] . Under their able stewardship the school ran shipshape despite the many storms that buffeted it from time to time. I almost feel like standing on my class desk and crying loudly…’Captain, My Captain!
Among them, I feared and hated Comber. I suffered much under his hand. That’s another story.
I am truly blessed because I had the good fortune of being taught and groomed by some of the finest teachers of that time. [They don’t teachers like trhem nowadays] The names that come to mind now are , lBr. Carr, fondly called ‘Cop Car’. He was a big man with huge hands and a loving heart. He carried the head of a hockey stick that he used for striking the big brass school bell..
Then there was Br. Drew – he was my class teacher in VI and also my spiritual guide. I made my First Holy Communion under his guidance. Today if I can humbly call myself a good Catholic, the credit goes to this venerable teacher and friend.
Brother Lyng was the funniest guy in the campus. We used call him “Lingo’. He was short-tempered but always willing to forgive anyone when we reminded him that we had ‘ seven licks’ in his bank.
The other brothers were Donnelly [Called Zupsu Donnelly], Cahill, Brogran , Johnson, Cleary and others.
The Christian Brother that influenced that a gereat influence in my early life was Br. Akramattam Bosco [ nicknamed” Black Dad’]. He was my last teacher. In many ways he resembled the teacher played by Sydney Poiter in the movie ‘To Sir With Love” I leant to write English under the encouragement of this saintly brother. As long as he was alive, I made it a point to call on him whenever he touched
Br. D.F. Burke died in
I also carry memories some lay teachers such as Mrs. Temple, Mrs. Temple. Mrs. Connelly, Mrs. Merrit, Mrs.Gambler, Mr. Daniel , Mr. Sinha, [ Founder of St. Severins High School ] , Mr. Smithe, Mr. Tileshwar Rai and many others. . Each one of them influenced us some way or an another.
Then there were the bearers like the lankyJohn who looked like Long John Silver. Laluwa groundskeeper who zealously guarded the school ground and kept a sharp eye on any one trying to across the wall near the mango topes.
Who can ever forget Harichand the tuck-shop man who often allowed those who had no poko [ pocket money ] to have the leftovers of his famous almond toffee.
There were tense moments too. If two guys were caught fighting, they were made to put on boxing gloves and asked to settle the matter in the boxing ring. After a few rounds they were told to shake hands and make up.
If a guy was caught fagging [ smoking] he had to bear the consequences of getting canned on the buttocks. The condemned guy would prepare himself for his execution by padding himself with two or three pants to counter the effects of the stinging Malacca cane.
Inspection was a daily ritual every morning before classes. We stood in a long line in the along corridor. The principal like General Patton, would march stiffly down the line examining our ears, nails, shoes.
Before inspection we would rub shoe flowers on our shoes to give them a temporary shine and escape detection from the eagle-eyed principal.
The original uniform of St . Mikes was khakhi. It was changed to white in the 60’s.
Showers were necessary. We would all go into the huge shower room [ wonder what happened to it ?] We would stand in our in our chuddies under the showers. The brother in charge would blow his whistle -signal to open the tap. Then a hundred showers would drench drench a hundred guys . [ Now ain’t that pretty fast?]
In winter we had hot water. This entire shower operation took less than 15 minutes.
Meals were served in the big dining hall. There were two kinds of boarders . The ‘special boarders” comprised of guys who were vegetarians and ‘ordinary boarders’ – the non vegs. The meals were ordinary, dull and drab but wholesome . No one of ever got sick by eating the food.
Infirmary days:
When we fell ill we were sent to the infirmary [sick dock] which stood in the south-west corner of the campus. I remember the two nurses who took care of us. One of them was Sister Rita.
There was this guy called Edwin Roumold who had devised a unique plan of landing in the sick dock thus escaping a tough exam. He would out an onion under his armpit for some time. His body would get warm. He was rushed then rushed to infirmary…..lucky Eddy!
There two days in the month we dreaded most . One was ‘salt days” when we al had to line up outside the infirmary and guzzle a dose of the nauseating Epsom salts to clear our bowels. The salt was virtually forced down our throats. That day the toilets [bogs] would be heavily booked …house full. In winter we had to line up for a glass of that bitter drink called chiraita.
Meet me behind the bogs:
The spot behind bogs ( or toilets) at the northern end of the school was regarded as the official battleground. If a guy wanted to settle a dispute, he would tell his opponent to meet him’ behind the bogs’ after school. Each one would take a partner as referee and fight it our there. No one sneaked squealed. A squealer was ostracized by everyone.
Thank you for the music
Today, in my own school, the kids sing an Abba number that goes like this:
Thank you for the music
The songs I’m singing
Thanks for the all the joy they’re bringing
Who could live without it?
I ask in all honesty.
Without a song or dance what are we?
So, I say Thank for the music
For giving it to me.
The above aptly describes what music meant to us.
One of my first loves in school was music. I had a good voice and I was chosen in the school choir. Brother Johnson was our choir master.
We used to sing most of the church songs in Latin and so I picked up a little bit of Latin also . My favorite hymns were ‘Ave Maria ‘ and the Handel’s ‘Alleluia’
There were many Anglo Indian boys from St. Mary’s Dumdum, St. Patrick’s and
We were all fans of Elvis Presley, Cliff Richards, Pat Boone, Little Richards, Paul Anka, Billy Vaughn, Jim Reeves and the Beatles. We used play the S.P.[ standard playing ] records on the old winding gramophone. The first boy to own a transistor was a guy called Murthy
Fun and frolic:
There were many fun days in school. We had great fun going on picnics to places like Maner and Ragir. The school had an old Studebaker bus driven by one Wajid. For long distances we used the buses of Ram Motor Transport Company.
We usually armed ourselves with catty or slings . Some us carried air rifles. We shot parrots, pigeons and doves .We also caught fish in the river near Maner.
We enjoyed playing football and hockey matches with schools such as
Our rival in
There were proud moments when we marched behind our captain carrying our House Flag in the march past on Sports Day. We felt proud and looked smart
marching to the tune of the military band under the baton of Major Gurung. The favourite marching tune was the “ Colonel Bogey’s March’ from the
Once in while, we were allowed to go to socials at
School Anthem
I remember the first school anthem which went like this:
Cheers, cheers for Good Old St. Michaels's
Sing of the glory of former days,
While her loyal sons go marching
Onwards to victory…….
This anthem is still being sung every year at old boy’s reunion in
Later . the lyrics of the anthem was changed by Brother Johnson .
The School Motto:
Right on top of the entrance gate our school motto read:
QUIS UT DEUS
[ Who is greater than God ]
I loved the words. I have adopted it as my personal motto
One for All and All for one:
One of the most important aspect in our school life was the bond friendship and brotherhood that we forged. This bond of friendship was unlike any other; for it was tried and tested throughout our school lives .
Like the Three Musketeers, we also pledges
“One for All and All for one”
The bond of friendship remained true all through our lives.
Living learning fighting and loving together forges a bond of brotherhood that stands through all time . I know this to be true. Thanks to the internet today, I am still in contact with so many of the old St. Mikes boys of the Christian Brothers Era.
Practically every year I manage locate one or two guys in some remote country.
Conclusion
There is so much more one can write about the wonder years at St. Mikes. It would take pages and above all, I am not a writer in the real sense, like the illustrious eat Vikram Seth who is also an alumni of St. Mikes.
I sign off by quoting the lyrics of a song that was very popular during our school days:
THOSE WERE THE DAYS - 25/09/1968
Once upon a time there was a tavern
Where we used to raise a glass or two
Remember how we laughed away the hours
And dreamed of all the great things we would do
Those were the days my friend
We thought they'd never end
We'd sing and dance forever and a day
We'd live the life we choose
We'd fight and never lose
For we were young and sure to have our way
Then the busy years went rushing by us
We lost our starry notions on the way
If by chance I´d see you in the tavern
We'd smile at one another and we'd say
Those were the days my friend
We thought they'd never end
We'd sing and dance forever and a day
We'd live the life we choose
We'd fight and never lose
Just tonight I stood before the tavern
Nothing seemed the way it used to be
In the glass I saw a strange reflection
Was that lonely woman really me
Those were the days my friend
We thought they'd never end
We'd sing and dance forever and a day
We'd live the life we choose
We'd fight and never lose
Those were the days, oh yes those were the days
Through the door there came familiar laughter
I saw your face and heard you call my name
Oh my friend we're older but no wiser
For in our hearts the dreams are still the same
Those were the days my friend
We thought they'd never end
We'd sing and dance forever and a day
We'd live the life we choose
We'd fight and never lose
Those were the days, oh yes those were the days
Allen Johannes
St. mary’s Primary School
11-D Rajendra nagar
Phone: 09334331428
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