I was enrolled in my primary school education at St. Teresa's School Vazhappally in 1955. It is a convent school run by the adoration convent. The convent, the chapel, and the school are on the same premises and sits on a knoll. The school has both the primary and secondary school sections. The primary school was started in 1919 and it became a high school in 1951, the year I was born. It is a co-educational school up to standard seven, and only girls move to the high school section. Saint Alphonsa studied in this school. Ammachi took me to the school for registration and a person was recording the details about the children. My mother remembered my date of birth only in the Malayalam calendar as Makaram 14 with the Malayalam era. Unfortunately, the registrar didn't know the conversion of the Malayalam calendar to the English calendar and recorded my date of birth as 17th October 1950 which is reflected in all my records. So I carry two birth dates the biological birthday of 27th January (which I celebrate) and the certified birth date of 17th October. There was no official registration of birth and death in those days in Changanasserry.

In the school, we used to sit on benches and there were no desks. The classrooms were separated by small wooden screens and so we could see the other classrooms. The girls and boys sat on separate benches. When the teacher in the other class made a joke, we also laughed. We used to write on a slate instead of paper. A slate is a thin piece of flat material made from a special type of soft stone. This tablet was 4x6 inches and encased in a wooden frame. A pencil of the same material was used to write on the slate. A small piece of cloth was used to clean the slate after each work. During drill lessons (P.E lesson), we used to run on the field and played hide and seek, Kabaddi or played kickball using a small rubber ball. There were no P.E kits or soccer balls available to play.

I stood first in all the tests, exams, and other activities and soon became the darling of the teachers. My parents were proud of me. Every year I was declared as the best student in my class scooping the prizes for all subjects. On the annual school day, all wooden screens between the classrooms were removed so as to convert them into a big hall. The hall would be decorated with sarees, ribbons and balloons and a stage would be set at one end. The chaplain of the convent would be the chief guest. During prize distribution, when my name was called the teacher lifted me up and put me on the stage because the stage was too high for me to climb. The prizes used to be a comb, a soap dish, a plastic cup or a plate. I carried it home with pride and presented it to Ammachi. Ammachi displayed it on the dining table.

November 1st 1956 was the day of Kerala Piravi, the birth of Kerala state. It was the first major historical event happened during my early years. In India, States were created according to linguistic lines. Kerala state was formed by the merger of Travancore-Cochin state with Malabar and Kozhikode, with Thiruvananthapuram as the state capital because the people of these regions spoke the same language Malayalam. On that Kerala Piravi day, the children in our school assembled on the school ground at around 11 am. We were informed that different groups of people would be running from one end of the state to the other end carrying deepasikha (a lighted torch) symbolizing the unification of the people of one language and the team would be running along the road in front of our school at around noon. We all lined up near the school boundary wall facing the road. The wall was not high enough, so we could see the road below and were waiting anxiously. Suddenly we noticed the people carrying the torch with flame running and we started shouting slogans like Jai Kerala, Jai Bharat Matha and cheering them. It was a proud moment. At that moment a transition had taken place from Thiru-Kochi state to Kerala state.

My younger sister Lissamma was born in June 1952. The whole family was hoping for a girl child, so we fondly called her kochu- the little one. When I was in standard three she also joined St. Teresa's. We used to walk to the school a distance of about 700 meters. Monsoon starts in June. When the school closes at 4 pm the monsoon would be pouncing with heavy downpour accompanied with thunder and lightning. We never carried an umbrella and Achayen instructed us to wait in the school so that he would come from his shop and carry us home. We would stay in the classroom after the school, peeping through the window and far on the road. The whole place would be flooded. Suddenly we could notice far, a frail structure with a turban on his head and an umbrella in his hand climbing the steps of the school. Achayen carried Kochu on his shoulder and me on his hips and balancing the umbrella took us home.