Hootoksi Tyabji, 1961-1968

As a young child growing up in Bombay, I suffered from chronic asthma. No cure could be found, and I remember being dragged from one doctor to the next, the Homeopath, the Ayurvedic doctor, the Allopathic doctor and I was even made to swallow a raw fish whole in Hyderabad, to no avail! I continued to suffer terrible attacks and remember my mother’s anguish at my plight!

Our family doctor Pesi Badshaw was convinced that the humidity in Bombay, coupled with the pollution and the dust was the cause of my asthma, and he recommended that I be sent to a hill-station for a few years, to breathe in the clean air!

Boarding school was the only option which is why I was packed off to Kodaikanal while my brother and sister went to day schools in Bombay.

I was familiar with the concept of boarding schools from the Enid Blyton books I devoured which painted them as places of fun, adventure, and midnight feasts. I was excited and got wholly involved in the preparations for my impending move and change of life and school.

My parents had friends whose children went to a school in South India called Presentation Convent Kodaikanal (PCK) in the Nilgiri Hills. It was primarily set up to cater to the educational needs of tea and coffee planters' children who lived scattered around on plantations in the area. It was staffed by Irish nuns and was a small, exclusive, school with an excellent reputation and a long waiting list for admissions. Fortunately, my aunt Phi masi, was good friends with the Maharani of Kutch, Aunty Min. Her daughters had been to PCK, she had made large endowments to the school, and it was only because of her intervention that I jumped the queue and was granted admission midterm!

Frantic preparation ensued and every article of clothing and linen on the long list sent to us, had to have my name on it. My grandma was recruited, and each piece of clothing was lovingly embroidered in red cross stitch by her. An old tin trunk was found, and my mama had it re-painted a sky blue, it was packed to the brim, and before I knew it I was all set to take off on my new adventure.

While I was ready to leave for school, my Papa had to attend an important Lions Convention in the US and he wanted mama to accompany him. He managed to persuade his sisters Maki & Naju to travel with me and deliver me safely into the arms of the Irish nuns at PCK!

The distance from Bombay to Kodaikanal was 1,512 kms by train and the journey took over 30 hrs to the town of Madurai; from there we changed trains and chugged along to Kodai Road from where we caught a bus to the top of the mountain. The bus ride took approximately 5 hours and we drove along a steep and winding road to Kodaikanal.

The journey was uneventful and the drive up the mountain was beautiful. Everything was green and the forests were covered in Shola trees, with large swaths of grasslands forming a beautiful mosaic like tapestry for as far as the eye could see. Kodaikanal sits at an altitude of 6,998 ft and the air up there was crisp and clean! Our bus rumbled into a small town dominated by a huge Lake with beautiful bungalows dotted all over the hills. The one large store in the market was “Spencer’s” and around it there were little sundry shops scattered here and there.

We spent one night at the only hotel in town “The Carlton” and the next morning bright and early, we took a taxi to my new school. The last part of the ride was up a very steep hill which I soon learned was christened “Calvary” by the students at PCK.

Mother St John the Principal of our school was waiting in the Parlor to receive us. I had never seen a nun in attire such as hers! She was dressed in a long black habit with a wimple, a funny, stiff, bib like attachment across her chest and large wooden rosary beads dangling from her waist. Her hair was completely covered in a veil. When I left PCK 8 years later, the look of the Presentation sisters had completely changed. Their habits were shortened to just below the knee, their hair was visible in front, and the wimple and long rosary beads were things of the past!

Mother St John was exceedingly kind and welcoming and served us a cup of tea after which, my aunts were told they must leave. We said a teary farewell and before I could catch my breath, they were gone!

I was handed over to a “senior” who took me to my dormitory, St Anne’s, a junior dorm which had many beds in a row all neatly made up with identical bedcovers and little stuffed animals propped up on each pillow. Apart from a small steel side-table for our personal belongings, there was no other furniture in the dorm. My sky-blue tin trunk was quickly unpacked by the matron, and it disappeared, never to be seen again till 8 years later when I left school.

I was given a LONG list of school rules which I had to look over and before I could catch my breath, the ragging, sneering, teasing and bullying began, and it was relentless!

Arriving in the middle of the term when friendships are sealed, and cliques have been formed is difficult for any child! I was utterly miserable and could find no one to turn to. Long distance calls were impossible and since I felt the whole world was against me, I decided to take matters into my own hands and find my way back home to Bombay. I had a little money in my change purse and with it tucked safely under my school shirt, I made my way to the bus station. It hadn’t occurred to me that I was dressed in my school uniform and getting away from the convent without detection was unthinkable!

I ran away from PCK on three occasions after which I was called into the Principal’s office and warned “ Miss Pundole, if you walk out of this school once again your parents will be called and you will be expelled, do you understand?” Those words were music to my ears, that was exactly what I wanted, to go home, and so I confidently walked out of the school gates a fourth time but only made it to the bottom of Calvary before I was hauled back to “the Convent” by a concerned citizen.

As warned, my parents were called, and my mama traveled on her own all the way from Bombay to Kodai. Mother St John received her in the Parlor, and I was summoned. She gave us both a stern talking to after which my ma requested some time alone with me. I remember this as if it were yesterday!

I sat on ma’s lap enveloped in a big embrace with tears rolling down my chubby cheeks and my ma was shedding a few tears too! The last thing my parents wanted, was for me to be shipped off to boarding school, but Dr Badshaw had been right! In the two months that I had been in the hills, I had not suffered a single asthma attack!

Mama patiently and lovingly explained this to me, and she promised that if I stuck it out for one term, she would allow me home for the short Xmas holidays. If I still hated it then, she would let me leave PCK and return home to Bombay. She said, “Give it your best shot, I know you can do it. Just listen through one ear to what the mean girls say and let it out through the other. That is all it takes!” I agreed to  try my best to fit in and I knew that if at the end of the term I was still unhappy, my ma would keep her promise and I would not have to return to Kodai!

I walked out of the parlor that day and I never looked back! With renewed vigor I stuck out my chin and gave as good as I got! Once the girls realized that I refused to be bullied I began making friends and things started improving for me.

I soon began enjoying life in PCK and over the Xmas holidays when I was home, I couldn’t wait to get back to school!

Our days were packed, we never had a free moment and there was always plenty to do. Apart from classes we had lots of extracurricular activities. Music, ballet, theatre, crafts, social work, in addition to sports and lots of outdoor activities like walking, hiking, and rowing on the Kodai lake.

We had so much fun, played pranks on each other and on our teachers, had midnight feasts, stole plumbs and pears from gardens around the school, bribed our bearer Mickey to give us extra helpings of food and organized picnics (Bear Shola Falls was a favorite spot) and treasure hunts especially on St Patricks Day.

The entire school of about 150 students ate together in the dining room. It was filled with tables, six girls of varying ages with one senior in charge to check on table manners and etiquette! Grace was said before meals and we were served by bearers in starched white uniforms with a wide sash around their waists and turbans on their heads! They looked like Mughal Princes!

Our food was particularly good, the Irish stew and mutton cutlets, the flat bread with potato on top were some of the hot favorites as were the desserts, bad banana pudding, frog’s eggs, and ginger mush.

The nuns were parents to us, mostly caring and kind. There was Mother St John, Mother Madelenie, Sister Xavier, Sister Pius, Sister Magdalen, Sister Bonerventcha, and Sister Martina. My favorite was Sister Magdalen (Maggie). She had a ruddy complexion and flaming red hair with a temper to match! Every time she got mad, and this was quite often, I was convinced that her nose grew longer! she had a good singing voice and a great sense of humor. She gave me singing lessons in addition to teaching me health science.

Sliding down the polished banister on my belly from my dorm to the parlor was strictly forbidden. Maggie had an uncanny knack of miraculously appearing at the bottom of the staircase just as I slid off with her nose growing longer and her face becoming ruddier, she would banish me from her sight and send me to the study hall for detention.

Once she discovered we were planning a midnight feast in St Mary’s dorm, and she was a real sport! I was in charge at the time, so she left this note on my bed!

Lines written on the interesting study of odours. Dedicated to St Mary’s of 1968.

Oh! St Mary's Dorm
What d’you know,
No little bird did tell me so.
Paraffin! Ugh!
Coffee! Yum! at, you know.
This nightly spree?
Has given such glee?
Especially when done surreptitiously!
A practical point one must enforce.
Return the stove and sauce-pan both
Well cleaned and shining bright tonight,
Or else the escapade might come to light!

Not good verse…………but it makes a point!

In our last year at school in St Angela’s dorm one of the girls asked Maggie “Sister tell us what to look out for in a man. What makes him a good husband?” without a pause she answered, “Bring a small child and a dog into the room. If the man is kind to both, he will make a good husband.”

I put Robert through the ‘Maggie Test’ and having passed it with flying colors, I had no hesitation in marrying him! We have happily been together for 50 years to date!

In addition to the nuns at school, we also had priests who came to PCK off and on. They conducted Retreats which were optional for seniors. I wasn’t interested in the Retreat per se but I liked the idea of missing classes and so I enrolled. But in time, I really began to enjoy them and one of my favorite priests was Father Hession. He was special and had a great influence on me. He taught me the difference between religion and spirituality and encouraged me to learn more about my own religion, Zoroastrianism. He had a wonderful sense of humour and we kept in close contact long after I left school and was married with children. He never failed to reply to my letters which I eagerly looked forward to receiving and so enjoyed reading.

In addition to the nuns, the teachers, the school nurse the kitchen staff, and the bearers, we also had “bath boys”.

We were only allowed baths twice a week on designated days, and there were no showers available. The bath boys stood outside each cubicle with a tin of Vim and a rag. It was their job to clean the bathtub and refill it to the quarter mark. Once they had filled it, we were not allowed to add any extra water, they held the power and we constantly tried to cajole them to give us just a little bit more hot water!!

All our clothes were kept in cupboards by the matron, and they were issued to us twice a week. We had lots of uniforms. The daily uniform was a green pleated skirt with a white shirt, striped tie, green blazer, green socks, black shoes and a bowler hat remarkably similar to what children wear with their school uniforms in England. On Sunday we had a “Sunday Uniform” on Saturday “a weekend uniform” and we had silly bloomers for gym which were exchanged for “Skorts,” in the later years. These were short skirts with panties attached, in house colors. We were only allowed to wear our own clothes if we went out (exceedingly rare) or if it was a social or party!

In the school compound there was a beautiful chapel, nobody was forced to attend services, but all the Catholic girls felt compelled to go. Most seniors wanted to join the choir because once a week the boys from the American school came to the chapel to attend mass. That was the only opportunity we had of seeing boys and if you were in the choir loft above, you could salivate over them as you knelt to pray! I remember a host of us drooling over a red-haired boy called Bob Rushton!!!!

Our day started with one of the nuns strutting into the dormitory to wake us by ringing an annoying tinkling bell, or stripping the blankets off us. Sister Martina would stand at the door and in her shrill nasal voice she would cheerfully shout “Up with you ladies, rise and shine, rise and shine!”

Then it was a mad dash to the washrooms and loos, and we had to be dressed in our uniforms and in line ready for school assembly within the hour! One of the senior girls played a march on the piano and we all trooped in and stood to attention while Mother St John led the prayer and made important announcements. 

The rest of the day was spent in lessons followed by sports and extracurricular activities, debates, music and dance practice and rehearsals for plays and shows we put on throughout the year. We had a group called The Leadership Training Squad (LTS) and those seniors who belonged to it taught at the St Xavier’s School which was run from the profits of our school for poor children who could not afford school fees. I loved teaching there and it was probably where I developed my love for teaching and community service. We organized fund-raising activities and were able to set up a library and a little dispensary for the children at St Xavier’s.

The most important activity after lunch was getting to the Tuck Shop before it closed! A senior oversaw the handing out of boxes with our names on them and edible treasures inside. We could get a tuck parcel by post, and we also went to “Spencer’s” once a month to spend the little pocket money that was dispensed to us for the outing. There was always a run on the peanut brittle, and the mango chutney and Strawberry Jam! No food was allowed in the dormitories (a rule perennially broken) and whoever received a tuck parcel was always the most popular girl till the treats ran out!

After an early supper we had to go to the Study Hall and then it was lights out at 9 PM for the seniors and 7 PM for the juniors.

We had three houses, St Jones (blue, my house), St Xaviers (red) and St Augustines (yellow). Each house had an elected Captain and Vice-Captain from Class XI for a two year period and there were many competitions among houses in sport, ballet, music, and theatre. I was Captain of my house and this privilege gave me a badge which I wore most proudly on my blazer and my hat!

We had several concerts, ballets, and drama performances through the year, and I was always involved in them. As a special treat for Mother Madeline’s Golden Jubilee on the 28^th April 1968, the school performed the Operetta Bohemian Girl. The sets and costumes were talked about and rustled up weeks ahead of time and a carpenter from Kodai town was hired to build the set which included a balcony from where I trilled the famous "I Dreamt that I Dwelt in Marble Halls." To frame myself in the exact position from where I sang this famous aria, there was a step ladder placed backstage and I had to stand on the second rung and belt it out "with feeling" One night someone inadvertently removed the step ladder - a quick-thinking sister Gregory knelt on all fours and I stood on her back and sang the song with extra feeling!

41 years later, Robert and I were visiting friends in Bangalore and their neighbors, Air Vice Marshall Teo Osman and his wife Havovi came over for a drink. After being introduced to them as ‘Hootoksi Tyabji’, the gentleman mentioned that he had only once before heard the Parsi name ‘Hootoksi Pundole’ and he jokingly asked, “you wouldn’t happen to know her would you?” I replied that I knew her well and on hearing who I was he insisted that I immediately sing for him!

He told me that in 1968 he was on his honeymoon in Kodaikanal when the buzz on the streets was the staging of The Bohemian Girl at the convent.

For lack of anything better to do, Teo and Havovi attended the performance and he had never forgotten my rendition of "I Dreamt That I Dwelt in Marble Halls.” I wonder if he was there on the night I sang it standing on Sister Gregory’s back?

We had one long vacation in the year and some of us went home only once a year. For the short holidays I was often invited by friends who lived on tea and coffee plantations in Munar and the surrounding hills. We had marvelous times together in their beautiful sprawling bungalows with their dogs and cats and an endless supply of delicious food served throughout the day. We often saw herds of elephant, Gaur (Indian Bison) and deer!

“Going Down Day” the last day of the school year was much anticipated and the excitement reached feverish proportions! The journey was always so much fun! We would write each other anonymous “going down” notes with silly messages and instructions on the outside as to when the note was to be opened and read. I had some that said “Open when you feel sick on the bus”, “open at Kodai Road”, “open when you see the first coconut tree on the plains”, “Open when you hug Happy” (our dog) and “open when you go to the toilet in the plane” We would giggle and laugh and sing and shout and it was impossible for the nuns to keep us “in check” I am surprised the bus driver didn’t crash the bus with the mayhem going on inside it!

In my last year of school after the final prize distribution, there were just a few of us who stayed back to take the Senior Cambridge Exams.

One morning the nuns received an SOS from a film director in Madras who was shooting a Tamil film based on the Sound of Music in Kodaikanal. He needed a few schoolgirls in uniform for a day’s shoot, would we oblige? The lead actor was the famous Gemini Ganesan and as we had a few days break from exams the nuns permitted us to take part in the shoot and it was fun! We never saw the film and I have no idea what it was called but someday maybe we will see it?

I have only happy memories of my times in PCK and feel so privileged to have been there. We had a wonderfully rounded education, it wasn’t all about academics, we learned about sharing and caring, about art and music, about sport and give and take, about life and love.

We sang our School Song with fervor “stand brave, stand true under the green and gold” and we were proud to belong to the PCK Family. One never forgets one’s school friends and especially friends one has lived with in boarding school. I forged friendships in PCK which I treasure to this day!

My class IX

MEMORABILIA - PCK