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My memories of Biscoe - the early years (6th class) - Ashwani Kaul

"Maji" was the word that struck me most when I attended my first class in Biscoe. It was 6^th C the class I joined when I first joined Biscoe. What is Maji I guess short for Master ji. That was what some of the teachers were referred to by some students. What also struck me at around the same time was the rampant use of Kashmiri in class. I came from a school that believed in talking in English and maybe Hindi in class don't ask me why it is no better than Kashmiri, my mother tongue, but it lends an air of professionalism to the classroom.

Back to 6^th C I landed there purely because the C section was the only section with any room for new people that just joined the school. [I did not study in Biscoe from LPD onwards but rather joined in the 6^th class]. That was the year when Biscoe had a departure from the norm and decided to induct a lot of people from outside (usually they only allowed 2-5 people per year, but that year they probably inducted 20 or so people). This was the same year that the C section ended up getting better grades in the final exam than the A section. I still think that was very rare for Biscoe, purely since the whole A and C section system was based on grades and A was always higher. As a result we had mass promotions from 6^th C to 7^th A next year.

Back again to 6^th C Classes from teachers like Mohd. Shafi (Art), Premnath (Hindi), Sinha.

I have a lot of fond memories of Biscoe none of them related to the teachers none at all I shudder, feel a sense of revulsion, disgust, anger and a myriad of other emotions. Mohd Shafi the guy who hit me with a piece of a wooden chair, hard twice on each hand, when I was sick and barely able to stand up the same reason I was not able to complete my homework and hence the beating.
Maybe it was the norm in Biscoe get beaten, disciplined by force (excessive force), but looking at the world like I do now, I would not do that to anyone or wish that to anyone either. There are ways to get your point across and most of them do not involve the use of force; force may be necessary when you have exhausted all other peaceful avenues. [I am writing this article in the backdrop of the potential Gulf war how appropriate the use of force v/s negotiation]. That was not the only time I was hit by him or other teachers so don't think I am a whiner I have gotten beaten so many times in Biscoe, I don't even remember all instances anymore. Beaten by a thick stick, thin stick, arms twisted in pain, ears squeezed between nails till they hurt, pencils between fingers till you screamed, leather belt whippings, canes you name it. This place already begins to sound like a Nazi torture chamber for kids. Mohd Shafi was not even the worst of them all he was just the first I encountered in my first year there.

Premnath Sharma made me realize the difference between Hindi and Urdu. I came from a background where both languages were equal to me, I studied both, but in Biscoe I had to choose 1^st language and 2^nd language. I was forced to choose by him and by Noor Mohamed who also made me aware of another harsh reality that no Hindu boy used to study Urdu as a 1^st language. I was in an Urdu class (1^st language) once and Noor Mohamed made me stand up and be recognized as the only Hindu boy in the class!! Take this any way you want.

After that incident I stayed with the Hindi 1^st language class. I do not remember much about M J Sinha from that year, but I have some recollections of him from later on in Biscoe.

 

More to follow

Comments (1) 2007.09.09. 22:26

The School Motto and Crest by Farsheed

We mean by a man one who is both strong and kind-hearted, humble and unselfish. The crest embodies this ideal of Manhood. The paddles represent sturdy hard work and bodily strength and health. Their heart shaped blades indicate the gentleness that tempers brute strength. The lowly calling of the boatmen reminds us to honour all useful work and to be ready to serve even in the humblest capacity. Finally, the paddles are laid across to remind us of Him, our perfect pattern of Manhood, who spent His life in the service of others and died on the Cross for all mankind.
Mir Farsheed Manzoor
9th Mahadev
R.No. 29

Comments (0) 2007.09.09. 21:44

Memoirs by Simon Cribbens

My name is Simon Cribbens. Ive just visited your TBS site.
I taught at Biscoe in 1989 for about six months (February - July). I was a teacher in the Junior School at the time that Miss Morgan very sadly died. Mr Majeed was the Junior School Headmaster then. I was at the school with Andrew Huntley and Anna Seymour (who taught in the LPD). We were always known as Mr. Simon, Mr. Andrew, and Miss Anna. We directed that years school play The Government Inspector. Andrew and I lived in the school hostel, and went on the Mahadev climb that year. I dont know if you were at the school at that time - perhaps you remember us? I taught many boys and i couldnt possibly begin to remember the names (although somewhere I do have my register). I think I taught subjects to 3G, 4G, 5R - perhaps others. I can honestly say that teaching at Biscoe is one my greatest achievements, and was a very happy time for me. I would be really grateful if you could put on your website my greetings and best wishes to anyone who remembers me, especially any of those I taught, my friends in the hostel, the junior school staff and particularly Mr. Majeed (for whom I still have a great respect).
Many thanks
Simon Cribbens
London, England

Comments (2) 2007.09.09. 21:42

Rain at Romshi High Camp by Zainul Abidin Khan

When I was in 9th class in the summer of 1984 our school went for the annual camp at Yusmarg. The high camp was at Romshi Nallah, which was not only at a very high altitude but also was one of the longest high camp treks.
The hike through the forest and the midday meal that we carried along with us (Al Haba ler haba what else?) was eaten in the thickly foiled trek. When it became obvious to us that the trek is to continue for a still longer time than we had thought we started cursing whatever we thought was responsible for it.
By the late afternoon we were dead tired and had it not been the encouraging Mr. T.N. Kaul, our house master (I was in Tattakoti house!!) we would have preferred to lie somewhere in the forest and go to sleep.
Still a few more kilometers before we could make it to the camp it started to drizzle. A cold wind blew and the wise said rood rood. Rain was now imminent. The drizzle became a heavy downpour by the time we finally saw our high camp tents. Someone prophesied at the moment Laeg tawanas.
The tents were pitched on grassy slope and inside the tarpaulin was leaking at many places. The ditches around the tents were shallow enough to allow water to come into the tents. The blankets given to us were soon soaked through. After a struggle with the ditches around the tents, which we deepened with twigs and stones, the flooding of the tents was controlled. Fresh dry blankets were given to us to spread on top of the wet ones. After the fury of the stormy rain subsided we realized that most of us were wet to the undergarments. But there was no solution to this one, as we never carried spare clothes to high camp. Each of us grabbed a blanket and wrapped around ourselves. Tea was served in the tents. By dinnertime we were cold, tired, wet and very hungry and not in that order.
The vast pasture that lay ahead of us was surrounded by thick pine forest and to one side the pasture directly ascended into bare rocky mountains. The sight of this all in the dark was eerie and stories of forest ghosts with several revised and re-revised versions running hot in the bedtime giggles that went on after the lights out at 9 pm.
The night was unruly. It rained again in the night but thanks to our initial efforts, we were saved of being wetted again. By morning we were only damp if not dry.
The sight of the great pasture and the majestic mountains with a glacier blew away the anxiety and the tiredness when we woke up the next morning into a sunny and a pleasant day. Kashmir can never run out of breathtakingly beautiful landscapes and we were lucky enough that we were at Tyndale Biscoe School to see, smell and feel the beautiful nature from a closer distance than many.

Comments (0) 2007.09.09. 21:38

Miss M C Morgan by Zainul Abidin Khan

As this is written only out of my memories and how I recall things, some information here may have to be corrected. Still I hope that I express fully that I have to say.
The first and very faint memories that I have of this lady were when she interviewed me for my admission to school in Kindergarten. The Lower Primary department or the LPD was her home. She was the headmistress of the LPD from when I joined the school to a date not known to me.
Later when I was in the school drama in 9th class she and Mrs. Ray used to design the costumes and helped us to dress. A gentle lady who had handled children all her life was so heartwarming that she always overwhelmed us. She knew each face and had a nice thing to say to everybody she spoke to.
When I played a small comic character of the Porter in Macbeth in 9th class, I had to look funny. It was her idea to tuck a pillow under my gown to make a protruding belly. When we did the first show for the girls' college (I think Kothi Bagh) she asked in a whisper
"Did they laugh?" When I told her that there were only few giggles she remarked,
"Maybe they were afraid to laugh, you look funny enough"
Again the next year we did "Merchant of Venice" and she was again at her job.
I remember her playing the piano in the nursery and singing to young children. Picking up litter whenever she could from the field. Smiling at who ever she made eye contact with.
It was a sad day when we learned that she passed away. But we know, and all us who had seen her, that she will live forever in our hearts as a fond memory.

Comments (1) 2007.09.09. 21:35