When I moved to standard five I was given greater responsibility. Every day morning the whole school lined up on the steps of the school for prayers and national anthem. It was my duty to lead them in prayers. At 12 noon, the bell would ring in the church being the adoration convent chapel. At that time, the students in all the classes would stand up for prayer in their respective places. I would be leading them the prayer of the Angelus. I had to recite loudly so that whole school would hear my prayer.

School inspection was another great event of the school. The district education officer (DEO) would be the school inspector. We would start preparations for the inspection much earlier. The main preparation was decorating the classroom. We used to make cord or chain with chocolate wrappers, beads, artificial crepe flowers, crepe paper garlands, drawings, and paintings. We also removed the cork from the cassava tubers (stem) soaked them in ink to get blue color, dried them, cut into small circular pieces and string them with thread and needle to make garlands. On the inspection day, the class would be fully decorated with garlands and paintings hung on the wall, and paper flowers stuck on the wooden screen. There would be a trial class on the same topic for the inspection a day before, so that we would be smart and ready for the event.

When I was in standard seven Mr. Nalankal Krishnapilla, a writer and poet was the DEO and came for the inspection. The inspector entered into our classroom accompanied by the headmistress during the social studies lesson. The teacher was teaching the treaty of Versailles between Germany and the Allied powers after the World War 1. The inspector followed the class for less time and suddenly asked me a question 'where is Versailles?' as I was the first student sitting in the row. I didn't know the answer. He asked the next student and the next and so on. No student knew the answer. Then he asked the teacher 'where is Versailles'? The teacher too didn't know. We could see her face becoming red and stone-faced. Suddenly the inspector said, Versailles is in Paris and gave a brief history of the treaty and then left. The whole class was dumb folded. We could see the anguish the teacher was undergoing.

When I was in standard five my father had started training me for public speaking. He would give me the ideas of a topic, but I have to develop the points and speak extempore. He would stand twenty meters away from me and I had to speak loudly. Soon I became a good speaker in the school. On national days like Independence Day, I was given the task of speaking about the importance of that day in the school assembly. The thunderous applause from the students and teachers still reverberates in my ears. In India, Children's day is celebrated on November 14. It is the birthday of Pundit Jawaharlal Nehru, the first prime minister of India. He was very fond of children and loved them so much that his birthday is celebrated as children's day. He was called Chacha Nehru. We in St. Teresa's also celebrated children's day. Each year a student would be selected to dress like Chacha Nehru and address the school assembly. In 1961, on children's day I was selected for this role. That day I dressed like Nehru wearing the Nehru coat - a knee length coat with a stand-up collar - and a rose flower in the top buttonhole and a white Gandhi cap. That day I conducted the assembly. The students marched past the podium and then I spoke to them about Chacha Nehru, his vision of children and the future of India. I ended the speech saying long live Chacha Nehru.

We were five boys in a class of forty students. The other boys were Thomas, Antony, Joseph, and Rajasekharen and we sat together on a bench. We never mingled with the girls in our class, as it was the tradition. But we admired and respected them. During Lunch break, Antony and I walked into our homes for lunch. One day I noticed that Antony was not going home for lunch. I asked him the reason. He said that there was nobody at home to cook as his aunt was in the hospital and so he would be starving. I ran home for lunch. I asked Ammachi to give me four annas to buy an exercise book to write some notes in the afternoon. After some hesitation, she gave me the money because she never handled money without Achayen's approval.

After eating the lunch hurriedly, I ran to the school. I saw Antony sitting on the steps. I gave him four annas and asked him to go to a hotel and eat food which he did. My father came home from the shop at around 7.30 pm. We used to have our evening family prayers after he came from the shop. He would be leading us in reciting the rosary and I used to read the Bible. We all sat on the floor on a mat. After the prayer, Ammachi informed Achayen that I collected four annas from her to buy a book. Achayen asked me to show him the book with the class work I did on it. I was in a fix. I went inside the room and to my bookshelf and pretended to search for the book which I never bought. I was gripped with fear. After some time, he called me again for the book. I lied to him that I left the book with the teacher for correction. He could easily detect the lie. He called me and asked me to sit near him. Then raising his hand and opening his palm, struck me on my right thigh with full force. Fireflies came out of my eyes and I was in excruciating pain and started crying. He insisted on telling the truth. Finally, I told the Antony's story in tears. Ammachi was watching the whole episode. Suddenly I could see Achayen' anger melting down and the guilt started enveloping him. He grabbed me and put me on his lap and held me tightly. Soon I felt a drop of a warm tear falling on my cheek. I could feel his heart beating fast and my heart was beating in resonance with his. He held me like that for some time. I could see tears flowing down from Ammachi's eyes. He told me that I should have told the truth in the first place and urged me to bring any starving student to home for food. That was the most adorable memory I had about my father.

Two weeks after this incident was my birthday. We never celebrated our birthdays. There was no birthday cake, no birthday song nor gift. The only celebration was that Ammachi used to make paachor, a special food made of rice and jaggery. It is brownish in color and sweet. On that particular birthday when I came home for lunch, I saw a poor old couple from the neighborhood sitting on the verandah. When I was having lunch, I saw Ammachi serving food for them also. When I asked her about the gesture, she told me that she was doing penance for the unfortunate misunderstanding she had about me two weeks ago. I held her and cried. She continued this practice on my birthdays for some more years.

We never had a parent - teacher consultation or open day in the school. Parents never discussed the progress of their children with the teachers. Parents were called to the school only if there was a disciplinary problem. Ammachi regularly came to the church for benediction in the evening. Some days she would come early and walk straight into my classroom before going to the church. She would discuss with the teacher about my behavior and the academic progress. I felt indignant about these visits because no other parent ever came for this purpose. Today when I look back, I could see the concern she had about her child. I adore her.

My years in St. Teresa's came to an end in 1962 when I completed standard seven. During those years, a lot of emphases were given to character formation, moral education, self-discipline, respect to elders and good mannerism. I could still remember the pain in the teachers' eyes when we bid farewell to them. They never taught us how to love others, but they loved us. They never taught us how to choose good friends, but they were good friends. They never taught us how to comfort somebody, but they comforted us when we were sad. They never taught us how to laugh, but they laughed with us. I salute them.