Meerut - By ChanceI came to Meerut by chance. During the vacation after the school final exams (SSLC) in 1980, I came to learn about the presence of Bp Gratian in the town. Bp Gratian had been a figure of inspiration for us residents of Thevara - especially for the Catholics. Among the young adults he was popular as the Mathematics professor of Sacred Heart College, who wore the traditional three piece habit of the Carmelites (not the brown one, but the white), who was the director of the popular school youth animation programme called KCSL (Kerala Catholic Students League), who visited our homes (I remember one such visit, and I don't remember any other priest of the monastery doing that) and who was suddenly elevated to be the Exarch of Bijnor in 1972 and later was consecrated its bishop in 1977. But he maintained the contacts with the youth he had met on the KCSL platform, and thus all my elder sisters and my elder brother were inspired by him. And we tried to meet him, when we got to know that he was in the town from UP.
In those days, even when the regular phone was very rare, I don't how we got such messages, and how we managed to have such meetings. I came to know that he was travelling back to Bijnor, and would be leaving from Ernakulam Junction. I figured out the time, and reached the station, taking a platform ticket. And I did see him, and along with him, Rev Fr Gregory who had been the headmaster of Rajagiri school, when my elder brother was a student there. He was there to see the bishop off, as the Provincial of Sacred Heart Province. When I mentioned that I am keen to join the CMIs, the bishop responded with a question: 'Bijnorilekkalle'? (Aren't you opting for Bijnor) as if it was presumed. Now, this had never occurred to me earlier. But when Bishop asked thus, I responded without any hesitation, 'yes'. My! what miraculous ways of getting into a track! I don't even know what prompted me to go and meet Bishop Gratian, even before ever consulting or revealing the matter to my parents or brothers or sisters.
Overhearing the conversation, the provincial intervened, saying, then you join the 'vocation camp' at Kalamassery which will be held soon. Come for that. And that was that.
I decided and reported home that I was going for a camp - and they had not many questions as I was used to attending several camps. I went for the camp at Kalamassery, and it was shifted to Vazhakulam monastery, as there was water shortage at Kalamassery. And we had a 2 week long mega camp led by Rev. Fr. Varghese Pudussery CMI. It had a combination of group building and some very dull spirituality sessions. However, all put together, we were kind of formed to seek a place among the CMIs. Our SSLC results came during the camp, on the penultimate day. Though I had not done well, I still hoped for the miracle that the newspaper people would come to interview me for being the rank holder!!๐ By the end of the camp, the decision was made. I was to join (or I was selected).
The camp foiled an adventure we had planned as friends. We had decided to ride our bicycles up to Kanyakumari - I don't remember exactly who all - But my friend Paul and me for sure. However, the vocation camp came in between, and what would have been a great adventure for those days and that age, had to be dropped.
I joined the minor seminary, St Joseph's Postulants' Home, at Rajagiri, Kalamassery on 22nd of June. After a week or so, 6 of us who had opted for Bijnor Mission, were taken to Meerut by the rector of St. Joseph's Study House, Meerut, Rev. Fr Mathew Kaiparampil CMI (who was lost to all of us in the fatal accident on 18th May 1981), 501 Begum Bagh, Meerut 250001 was our address for the next three years.
Tryst with Indian Railways 1980 We travelled by the Jayanti Janta Express. A major section of the trip, the train was pulled by a steam engine propelled by coal; perhaps the last phase it was exchanged for a diesel engine. For the first time on such a long train journey, looking out through the windows, and remaining at the door (Fr Mathew didn't bother to restrict us to be seated in the coupe, and I enjoyed sitting on the doorstep, calculating the speed of the train and also drinking in the varied visages presented by the fast moving train.) Our faces became smeared with coal dust. We had some food to eat, and the remarkable memory is about 'kulhad' in which tea was served as we entered the northern part of the country.
We arrived in the afternoon, the third day, at Nizzamuddin. We boarded another local train to reach Old Delhi Station, a station close to ISBT. And carrying our small 'trunk boxes' and bags, we were led across the platforms to the melee of cycle rickshaws and vendors of all sorts outside the station. We were transported to the ISBT by 2 cycle rickshaws, I think. There, we managed to get a bus to Meerut, and I noticed it was 64 km from Delhi. We reached there in about 2 hours, passing by Ghaziabad, Modi Nagar, etc. And at the bus stand, again, we got into 2 cycle rickshaws to reach our study house, which was to be my home for the next 3 years.
St. Joseph's Study House, 1980 The twilight made me think that it was around 5 pm. But soon realised that it was around 8 pm. I saw the peculiar kind of door, and the chain-like bolting system. And a young man from the top of the building, engaged in some masonry work, shouted hello, and rushed down. I thought he was a helping hand or so, but soon we realized that he was Joseph Kurisunkal, our senior (most) who was posted on vacation duty to manage the house while all others were on vacation. He was engaged in a masonry art work of embossing a St Thomas Cross on the top of the building which had a projected pillar like structure. He had used squares drawn to a scale on a paper on which the cross was drawn, and was copying the same on the wall with a cement mix. The task was getting completed and his aim was to have it ready before all the residents arrived back from the vacation.
I marvel that a youngster (he was the senior most among the aspirants, having joined the seminary some 2 or years later after having a similar stint elsewhere) without being prompted by anyone took such initiatives. The flowering cross was a distinguishing feature of the building. I am pained to find that it was removed so casually and easily when the expansion of the small structure took place, perhaps, leaving not even a picture of the same for posterity.
For that matter, that culture of taking pictures was totally alien to Meerut training, it appears to me now. Perhaps, neither of our rectors of those times - Frs Mathew and Johny (both of them - of happy memory indeed) - had any such interest. There was never a photo taken of any occasion or of any batch in the three years we lived there.
Indeed, it was a very frugal existence, with a rigorous training. However, I/we did not feel that we lacked anything. I hardly ever felt or heard anyone complaining about the lack of facilities. In a place of about 2500 sq feet comprising 2 floors, in the three years I spent there, in the first year we were 25 aspirants*, in the second year, 27 and in the third year, with just 2 batches, 19; plus Fr Rector and a cook. I remember Mr Tharsius, who was with us in the first year, and Mr Vincent, who was there for the rest of the period.
Meerut Days We had to get up at 5 am and rush for the morning prayer, which broke into a big jhankar, waking the neighbourhood with our loud chanting of 'shree yeshu bhagvan ki kariye jai jai kaar'. Then we sang the beautiful Tagore hymn: I have come to Thee after the morning dedication and recital of the Angelus. Then we had to report for morning meditation at 5.30 followed by Morning Hours (Sapra) in Hindi, followed by the Holy Mass. The 15 mts morning meditation was usually an extension of the sleep hours. There was hardly any initiation as to how one was to make those 15 mts effective. (The same thing continued even into the Novitiate, and I still feel uninitiated as to how one could pray well in silence and recollection.) And the one who served at the mass had to give a brief explanation of the first reading (epistle) either in Hindi or English. Fr Rector would also give a short homily. There would be spontaneous prayers too.
In the evenings, we had a time for spiritual reading followed by rosary. And after night recreation with enthusiastic card or carrom games, we would all listen to the AIR English news and then go for the night prayers. All had to be in bed by 10 pm or so, unless you were given exemption to sit up late and study, which was very rare.
Friday mass was to be celebrated by Bp Patrick, who would usually bicycle his way from Bishop's house in the morning. Thursday night there would be 1 hour practice session of songs to be sung, and the Bishop would be there for introducing us to the songs. He would leave after breakfast with us.
Our breakfast almost consistently consisted of a sookhi roti, with a piece of Amul butter (1"x.5"x.5") and cup of tea. It is followed by a very quick session of cleaning - toilets, bathrooms, verandas, halls, front yard, etc. This routine hardly ever changed. That introduced me to the readiness to do such tasks willingly and also to keep up one's space neat and clean.
By 7.30, formal study would begin for all and would continue till 9.30 am, whereas the I year students would be taught Hindi text of intermediate (XI) class after a brief introduction to some basics of Hindi. It was done by Mr Gerald Seetharam, the Vice Principal of St. Joseph's Inter-college. (I wonder whether he was paid anything for the same). He used to come punctually at 8 am and leave at 9 am sharp. I think we had some break or so for reading newspapers. The seniors would have a break for getting ready to go to school (inter-college). And all will have the main meal of the day at 10 am. It could be roti or upma or bulgar upma or on very rare occasions, poori, accompanied by lobiya or channa or moong, or aalu, and hot sweet tea (with CRS American milk-powder serving as milk substitute). Aalu bhaji & Poori became more frequent with the arrival of Fr Johny as the rector. Then the seniors rush to the college, about 2 kms away on foot, wearing the sky-blue shirt and navy blue pants.
Come Sundays, after the morning Church celebrations, we had the invariable literary association, where by turn all got to do something, individually or as groups. I remember learning group songs or preparing speeches for the occasion.
We had three bicycles, and there was a department to see to their maintenance. I regret that in spite of all that, I never learnt to do any repair work of a bicycle. The bicycles were not all that good, never giving the pleasure of a ride; however, functional. Fr Rector had a separate bicycle, which was in a much better condition. I don't remember what happened to Fr Rector's bicycle thereafter. Fr Johny hardly ever used it. In those days, bicycles also had to get some kind of permit. An aluminium badge indicating the permit was fixed on the handle, perhaps attached to the brake lever. This would have been a collector's item now! I never had the occasion to directly involve in the process as during my 3 years there, we never purchased a new bicycle.
There was no phone, no heater, no warm water for a bath, no mosquito nets, no cots. Our dormitory was a room where we kept our rolled-up mattresses every morning. Otherwise, you found a convenient place in the verandah or study hall to sleep. I marvel that for three years we slept without mosquito nets, and still hardly any one of us contracted Malaria.
Of the first-year students, those who have proven skill to ride a bicycle are assigned to fetch beef-buffalo meat, 5 kilos every day, if I recall correctly, even on Friday. It was just Rs. 2 per kilogram, and the meat shop was about 3 kilometres away. I was surprised to find that meat was so cheap (in Keralam it used to be Rs. 15 or 18 per kilo), and the man would chop the meat of our choice for us. If one wanted kaleji (liver) or on very rare occasions, kheema (minced meat), he would do that readily with no additional cost. Two other routine shopping ventures were: 1) daily purchase of vegetables from the sabzi mandi. I was really surprised to find cabbage or carrot being sold for one rupee per kilo (Rs 5 per dhadi), or radish for Re. 1.00 for 5 kilos. 2) weekly purchase of sawdust (baruda). We would go by 2 bicycles or walk up to the mill about a kilometre or 2 away. Fill the boris (jute sacks) we had brought to its maximum. And carry them back on a rickshaw.
A daily duty was 'angithi bharna' - getting the sawdust stoves ready for next day. This was usually done after dinner. Two people on task would fill them with one hollow pipe inserted in the centre, and another perpendicular to it at the bottom - the latter for firewood, and the former, for the fire to escape and heat the vessel. This was a tough task. Till we completed our 3 years at Meerut, there was neither a gas stove nor an electric stove.
However, the cooking used to be horrible - I sensed something was amiss, though I had hardly any experience of cooking or the kitchen. However, I noticed that for almost all subzis (curries that went with rice or roti), the preparation used to be same. After boiling meat or legumes, you sautee it - boil oil, then add mustard with them bursting in the boiled oil, you add pyaaz (sliced onion) till they turn reddish brown, and then almost in equal measures haldi, dhaniya and mirch (turmeric, corriander and chilly powder), and keep the mix for some time adding the meat or legumes as the case may be. When I took charge of the kitchen after 6 months, I experimented with stopping mustard for meat, and also the amount of dhaniya and haldi used. I think that was successful, and it went unnoticed, assuming the taste was palatable. Fr Johny was fond of cooking experiments and would occasionally or even oftentimes, call me for kitchen tasks, and I became quite skilful in 'bal-ing' well-shaped chappattis, and do that very fast. I had no complaint regarding this.
Social Exposure: In the first year of our stay at Meerut we were introduced to rather tough social service ministries, usually accompanying Mother Teresa sisters. A daily routine (by turns) was that of helping the bedridden male inmates of 'Prem Niwas' run by Mother Teresa sisters. The two or three assigned for the day had to depart quickly after the Mass and breadkfast, and give bath to them, after cleaning them up and the bed. This was indeed a tough task. You are usually accompanied by a senior who does the work and makes you familiar to it. The winter days would make it tougher. Other occasional services were outreach programmes to the villages for distributing CRS nutritional stuff as a relief. It would involve weighing the child, recording the same, and supplying the provisions like Bulgar, CSM powder, Soyabeen Oil, a special Soya powder (Corn Soya Milk). These supplies, meant for the poor, were also part of our diet as we also lived the life of the poor; and perhaps, the CMIs in that region, at that time, were indeed poor. (In my 10 years of association with the CMIs of that region, I observed that they all led a life marked with austerity and frugality.) Once in a while, perhaps, two times or so in a year, we had a visit to the leprosy colony as well.
Though these were meant to be very rich exposures in themselves, with hardly any orientation regarding them, or any discussion or analysis after them, their impact was much less than what it could have been.
Two regular services we, as a Bijnor mission unit, used to do for the mission stations were: 1. purchase of band equipment from Meerut for sending to the various schools. Even these were taken to Keralam when someone was travelling in that direction. 2. preparing dried buffalo meat for the hill stations where it was not easily available, or if at all available, it was much more expensive than at the rate at which we used to get in Meerut.
Our involvement with the cathedral parish was regular. We attended the novena to Our Lady of Graces and benediction on all Saturday evenings. That was also our confession opportunity - our confessors were Fr Mathew Edattel, a very holy Malayali priest, and Fr Anthony Das, the gentleman procurator of the diocese. I think both of them have completed their trip on the planet earth. On Sundays, we led the choir of the Hindi mass at 9 am. Sometimes, our beloved principal, Mr Terrance Doyle, would lead the us in the choir, or would even come for a practice. Another choir leader was Mr Christopher, s/o our tutor and Vice Principal Mr Gerald. For Christmas and Easter, Fr Montero or some Sophia sister would come and train us to sing new songs for the feast.
Basketball - Learning it the hard way In the year 1980, we used to go to St. Mary's school run by the Patrician brothers. The calm and shady campus was a soothing place. But we had to walk the odd 2.5 kilometres from the study house to get there. Out of the 7 of us, one had some basic basketball skills, I was familiar with the game, but had hardly ever played, so it was a struggle picking it up, which we did almost unawares. Bp Patrick used to join us, which was considered a great privilege. But I had observed that then in his late 40s, he could not stop himself firmly in order to avoid a typical violation, though he was passably good at scoring from the restricted area range. Now at 60, I feel some of us are doing much better even while holding responsible offices and being extremely busy to find time to keep fit, even play basketball, and that too, avoiding such basic violations. Only difference is that with no cap on our caput, this is not seen as a great feat! However, his being present there to play was indeed an inspiration for the youngsters in maintaining a fitness culture, even with age. Our rector, Fr Mathew at times arrived on his bicycle and joined us. Fr Johny, our rector in the years 1981 and '82, at times did come to the court, but hardly ever played after some initial attempts.
In 1981, the court in front of St. Joseph's intercollege was made available, with an uneven clay floor, not levelled. However, we started using that to avoid the 1 km extra walk to St. Mary's. The first-year aspirants would carry the ball and reach when the seniors would have done with their classes, around 5 pm. Then we would play, the seniors would usually play with their uniforms, perhaps, removing their uniform shirt, and rolling up the legs of the pants. But there would be an earnest game. There was hardly any coaching for the newcomers. They gradually got included and picked up without really being instructed in the basic skills.
Then all would rush back, then there would be some tea and snacks (usually some sort of bonda or chiuda) and then all had to rush to have their bath and washing of the soiled clothes. We had, in all, 5 toilets and 4 bathrooms. Perhaps, Fr Rector had a toilet cum bathroom - I am not sure. Usually, one had just one set of uniform, and that would mean washing that in the evening and getting that dried overnight and putting the same thing on the next morning. Some did carry an outfit for playing. We used to drink merrily from the hand-pump at the college soon after the games. And at the study house, the municipal water was drunk directly from the tap. No one carried a water bottle to the school, nor bothered to drink or eat anything, even water, until after one had finished with the games.
Fr Varethaya was another influential figure around - as the assistant parish priest, he was running around and speaking out to the youth and people. He would make his appearance at the basketball court, and shout at us, and attempt a 3-pointer. Though his enthusiasm for the game was evident, that didn't translate into his being there on the court to play regularly. However, he was behind in taking our team for some matches, and I recall him inviting our team for the inaugural match at Modipuram school, when he was transferred there in 1982. He is no more!
Our next door neighbour was Mr Chaudhary with whom we hardly had any interaction, so with most of the neighbours. We lived a kind of insular life. Mr. Gaur, our Hindi professor, lived about 100 metres away. However, even with him, we didn't have much interaction.
For our medical or health needs, we used to depend on St. Luke's hospital, about 3 kilometres away, in those days, in the outskirts of the town. Fr Lukas, a Malayali priest was its founder director. I trust he continued to be so till the end of his life. His elderly mother was also with him. With frequent stomach aches as a young aspirant, I had to seek the help of the hospital 2 or 3 times, though I got rid of that nuisance with a simple remedy prescribed by my eldest brother-in-law, when we met in 1983, on my first visit to Keralam after joining the seminary. The hospital had the services of the Sardhana sisters (Franciscan Sisters of Our Lady of Grace), a Meerut-based congregation.
Some of the regular annual activities included practice for Christmas carols, the ecumenical Christmas celebration consisting of a procession from the Methodist church to the Catholic cathedral, going around on Diwali night to see the illuminated streets.
Some significant events during my stay there were: 1) The visit of Mother Teresa. We even had a group photo taken with her, though I am afraid hardly any of us would have a copy of it. Fortunately, one chance picture with me also in the frame, has come to me courtesy, Fr Davis Varaylan. Bp Patrick a great fan of Mother Teresa, invited her, and she addressed the gathering in the church. The pulpit was kept at the centre of the historical cathedral, with its classic pews having holders for guns for the soldiers who attended the mass. Mother Teresa insisted that the pulpit be shifted to the side of the aisle. I don't recall her message. 2) The terrible tragedy in which we lost 8 of our seniors* who were all set to leave for their much-awaited vacation after being away from their home state for 3 years. They were enroute to Pauri from Jaiharikhal, and 3 of us residing in Pauri (Gadoli) were awaiting them, with even some dinner prepared for them. They did not turn up. The next morning, we received the shocking news of their death in the Satpuli accident. Fr. Mathew Kaiparambil, our rector accompanying them, Rev. Fr Johny Manavalan with whom the three of us were having a thrilling time in Pauri, and the other resident of Gadoli, venerable Bro Romuald, and the sannyasi priest Fr Augustine Manjooran - all of them perished in this fatal accident. That led to a rethinking on Meerut training, and from the next year onwards, students were sent home for a vacation after the first year training. One of my batchmates, George Mookilikkat, who always exhibited some amount of eccentricism, on learning this news, as he was there at Lansdowne when these seniors visited the place, covered the entire distance of about 30 kilometres between Lansdowne and Satpuli running, and suffered some traumatic stress for some time. 4) There were some Hindu-Muslim riots and closure of institutions and curfew, most likely in the year 1981. 5) Some of us got the opportunity to visit Sardhana, the pilgrim centre 22 kms away - especially by way of taking around the rare visitors to the study house from Kerala. I got 2 such opportunities to serve as a guide, and also to join the on-foot pilgrimage which happens during the summer (as I was on vacation duty at the study house). I am surprised to observe now that there was no such practice by which the newcomers were taken to such an important pilgrim centre. 6) Our annual exposure to 'missions' by way of staying in a mission station during the summer. 7) There was no tradition of annual or batch tours as well. In my three years there, we were the only batch taken for a two-day tour of Delhi by Fr Rector. It was Asiad times, and we could witness the emergence of a new, planned, greener Delhi. We also visited the Presidential palace, India gate etc. 8) ASIAD took place in 1981, and we had no TV. We were permitted to watch a few matches on the black and white TV of our next door neighbour, Mr Choudhary, the only time we had visited with him or spoken to him. We witnessed the routing of the Indian hockey team 7-1 in the finals. 9) There was also a youth meet where Fr Samuel, Br Anildev IMS and Chotte Bhai (Allen de Noronha) led the youth, including us aspirants, in a youth retreat, with some good Hindi devotional songs. Those songs and the tangible zeal of Chotte bhai are still imprinted in my mind. Fr Samuel, later on, took to an Indian Sannyasa lifestyle as Sadhu Astheya, and was reported to have been murdered by someone, most likely part of the anti-Christian actions that had been occurring intermittently in the North of India. Fr Anil is now said to be a reputed retreat preacher in the North Indian region. And Chotte Bhai has become a bade bhai, writing columns and blogs and being a Christian social activist.
The only movie we had watched in three years there was Richard Attenborough's Gandhi, which was indeed a class movie and very inspirational too. I am afraid, after watching that Fr Johny, our rector, took to Gandhian ways of fasting and silence to correct us, though not successfully. It only put on a pallor of melancholy on the scenario.
Fr Johny, once a very jovial young priest with his boisterous laughter, on putting on the mantle of rectorship, became a lugubrious and sombre self with hardly any mirth, but only sincere but scrupulous concerns. He expected me to be on the path 'sainthood', which I was not opposed to, but also discovered the rebel in me, questioning him and challenging his methods, perhaps not publicly but in person. However, this shift in his demeanour did not really make him any less a gourmet, nor averse to his interest in experimenting with cooking, and also growing animals and birds (guinea pigs, doves, etc.) which we also used as menu items for special occasions.
Though I recall the solemn celebration of Rector's Day in the first year (St. Matthew), with Br Kurisunkal in the lead, and a bada khana as its centre of attraction, I don't recall similar events in the last two years.
In 1982, Br Sebastian Kizhakekkara joined us after completing the mandatory bachelor Philosophy. He was on a stop-gap arrangement as he was supposed to join the newly introduced (prestigious?) M. Ph programme at Dharmaram. In the meantime, he involved with us as an elder brother, initiating us into some songs, joining us to play basket ball, and above all, involving in setting up the new school project at Ghaziabad which has revolutionized the Christian presence in Ghaziabad over last four decades, leading to the great Mariam Nagar institutional area, with Christ University campus as the latest arrival. The relationship with Sebastian which began thus has continued over the years, as his assistant in the task of collecting material for the great value education project 'Becoming Disciple' and even after his leaving the congregation after completing the Theology bachelor's programme and establishing himself as a medical practitioner in the US.
Looking back, I feel it was a great training at Meerut - a life of regularity, discipline, frugality. It made us tough, I think. Though I do feel the occasions could have been made much more effective with reflective analysis of the varied experiences, with introduction to the local culture a bit more purposefully, and introduction to cultural aspects of North Indian life - language, religions, rituals, etc. The well-meaning rectors were very good people, but didn't have the necessary wherewithal to guide the young bunch in an optimal manner.
I made it a point to visit the study house in March, realising that it is to be closed down, the ownership to be handed over to the diocese of Bijnor. I very much wanted a gathering of the old students of the study house, to come together, share our lived experiences, relive them, get some pictures, and meet the people connected who are left on the planet. I was warmly received by the last Rector of the study house Rev. Dr. Jomon CMI. I joined the alumni day celebration at St. Joseph's, though I arrived to be an aam alumnus, having the tag of a Rev. Fr, and that of the principal of a Christian institution was treated as a special guest by the present Manager, Rev. Fr. .....
I regret that we did not make really good use of our wonderful exposure there, nor establish good relationships with our neighbourhood.
I regret that we have never tried to explore Meerut as a centre of the Sepoy Mutiny of 1857 (the first war of Independence), in spite of having been there for 3 years, and having learnt 'History' as part of our curriculum.
I regret that the training centre is being stopped and the three year integrated training is abandoned, adding to the burden on human and infrastructure resources.
I regret that there are hardly any photographs of the memories of our life there.
I regret that we have not celebrated the simple and straightforward lives of the early rectors - Fr Anasthasius (?), Fr Stephen, Fr Mathew, Fr Johny, etc.
Joseph Kurisunkal, George Mullappally, Joseph Palliparambil, Aloysious Kolliyil, Joseph Ambat, Joseph Madassery. Sebastian Kadalikkad was the lone survivor who left the congregation after completing the novitiate. James Valiyakunnel who had left before the vacation for some purpose, also quit the seminary soon after the accident, and is said to have built a career as a Hindi Professor.
Our seniors: Peter Adukuzhiyil*, Antony Punnackal*, Tomy Kapiarukudiyil*, Davis Varaylan*, Joy Parecattil, George Puthenpurayil, Vakkachan Palatty, George Peter Vallikkavunkal*, Sebastian Kaipramabil, Davis Madassery. (All starred ones now CMI priests, with Davis Varaylan being the Provincial of Bijnor province. Sebastian became a priest for the Khandwa diocese.)
Our batch - George Mookilikkat (an advocate in his native village of Thankamany, Kamakshy, Idukki - his daughter studied at SHC while I was serving there), James Palathinadiyil (retired Hindi teacher from KE School, Mannanam; his son was a student at SH College while I was serving there), Mathew Panthalanikunnel (a private tutor with several students in Kuruppanthara), Joy Poovathussery (entered Indian army, met him once on a train trip), Mathew Parayil (English/Social Science teacher for long at St. Thomas Mandsaur), Joby Edassery (Professor of Hindi at CUSAT).
Our junior batch - Francis (his daughter studied at SHC while I was serving there), Shaju Pulichamakkal, Shaju, Devassia, Mathew Kurissummoottil*, Geesan Ponthempally*, Dominic Kunnupuram*, Tanty Koikara, Martin Parakkal, Shijan (retired Principal of Prajoti Niketan College), Denny (whose daughter studied at SHC while I was serving there).
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