The summer of 2021

 

Recently, someone asked me what I planned to do, to beat the ‘Summer Blues’.

Summer blues? What summer blues said I. Am just waiting for my vacation to begin.  

 Now I have said this umpteen time - I am not travelling for obvious reasons. No intention of getting stuck amidst the hot springs, whale watchers or active volcanoes in Reykjavik in Iceland.

Then, Seychelles, which was on top of my agenda, has now been shelved once and for all - snorkeling and diving are not exactly my cup of tea. Just imagining myself under water, wearing goggles, a mask, a body suit, a snorkel and fins makes me exceedingly claustrophobic. In fact, I can only swim to a point. In reality, only the breath of a medium sized pool is what I manage, that too in shallow water, and even then, I come up gasping for air, much to the amusement of friends and relatives. And then, there are the ‘active honeymooners’ to contend with, so it’s an emphatic NO.

 Pune was my next ‘go to’ place, but the Delta variant in Maharashtra has put paid to those elaborate plans too. To compound the issue, the authorities have now termed it as ‘Delta plus’- probably something like a cyclone gathering in intensity and turning into a hurricane, I guess. Pray it blows over.

So here is my tentative plan. Not foolproof, etched in stone or in any particular order of importance, but I have given it quite a lot of thought.

I must catch up on some reading – nothing too heavy though. I asked a friendly bibliophile for help, and without blinking an eye, she excitedly recommended, ‘Marienbad my Love’, by Mark Leach. It has 17.8 million words on 10,710 pages she said. The Blah story by Nigel Tom was her next recommendation - that has 11 million words on 7312 pages. She seemed to know her facts.  I have a gut feeling she was joking, because when I did a little more research, they are two of the longest books ever written! So, I have disregarded her recommendation. Thank you, Miss, but no thanks.  

Instead I plan to read a book I studied in school- ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’ by Harper Lee – I loved it then and would not mind reading it again. Tom Robinson’s story resonates with me, especially in this present day and age, when racism has reared its ugly head- then there was the unforgettable Boo Radley!   There is also "The Great Gatsby" by F. Scott Fitzgerald – a book I hear is good. Have a few more lined up too.

Also intend to ‘do some music’ – have got in touch with a musician friend and hopefully, I will be able to record some songs. If they are not too bad, may also upload them – who knows!

That reminds me of something funny. I started out playing the drums in a band with three other friends. We were all teens and self-taught musicians.  We played all over Allahabad, were quite good and very popular as a group known as the ‘Revivals’. We played a lot of Rock ‘N Roll and Country music and earned good money as well.  However, drummers are usually seated at the back of the others, so playing drums and singing my heart out, while everyone else hogged center stage upfront, did not exactly appeal to me. It did not take me long to stop playing drums and go back to my first love – the guitar. Playing rhythm and singing was something I then enjoyed for years, and still do- so let’s see how the recordings go. Probably I was a bit vain back then!

Who doesn’t want to lose weight!  I certainly do. I believe there is a skinny man within me, wanting to come out.  Now it won’t be a diet. No Paleo, Vegan, Atkins or Dukan plans for me. I believe they are fads and extremely difficult to sustain for any length of time. Dieting seems to make people sad – when I look at their faces, i feel like feeding them a cup cake filled with chocolate and cream.

Brings to mind a relative who is into fitness and diets. One day she will pop in and say, “I have stopped eating sweets” or, “No more rice for me’’. A week or two later the self- proclaimed promise is forgotten, and she is back to square one! To give her credit she exercises regularly.  However, on my part, I do intend to eat sparingly, eat healthy & cut the carbs as far as possible. Reminds me of the Mrs. at home – she weighs herself and whatever the reading, she convinces herself and attempts to convince me, that she was a few hundred grams more than that, the previous time, and hence has definitely reduced. It’s the reverse with me – I weigh myself, and if the scale shows eighty, she is determined that I was seventy-eight the last time, and have gone up two kg! And then the fight begins!

By the way – I must get new batteries for the weighing scale before the holidays begin. The amount of times we bang on it, to get it to work, will surely ruin it someday.

Exercise – oh yes exercise. I will fit this in somewhere- I ought to. Now don’t get me wrong – you must not expect to see photos of me doing chin ups, dead lifts, suspended pushups or bench pressing – will leave that for the pros. However, I will fit in some light to moderate exercise into my schedule. And just to clarify- after the vacation there will not be selfies of me showing my biceps, triceps, or a six pack for that matter. I have them all, but am not a show off! I know some of you will be scoffing when reading this, but that’s your prerogative isn’t it?!!

Now family, friends and colleagues will know (some may not), that I like to cook and that I can rustle up some fairly tasty vegetarian and non-vegetarian dishes. (Gordon James Ramsay, I hope you are listening). If you look back, I used the world ‘like & rustle up’. I don’t love cooking per se, but, when in the mood (read that as once a fortnight or so), I can produce a yummy meal while leaving the kitchen spotless. I also bake- cakes being my sort of specialty – Christmas cakes to be more precise. By the way, I hope my wife does not read this, as she believes, that as she is responsible for getting all the ingredients cleaned, chopped and ready, and doing the other miscellaneous jobs prior to the actual process, she, in reality, has done the major part of ‘baking the cake’. We disagree on the nomenclature every time, and this is often the start of ‘the argument’.

Whenever guests or relatives taste the cake, enjoy it, and ask, ‘who made the cakes’, I make it a point to smile & say ‘we baked the cakes together’, in an attempt to earn brownie points, so very vital, especially during the festive season. I do get a sarcastic look or two, but after one has been married for over thirty-five years, like we have, it does not matter.

After the guests depart, I often hear statements like ‘why did you have to smile and say it’ or ‘you know you hardly did anything don’t you’ or the best one, ‘next time you can do everything yourself’ . That makes me burst out laughing – and then the fight begins!

I will continue to put words down on the computer. I love sharing stories, anecdotes and memories on social media. Though it does take up quite a bit of time, I usually write early in the morning and on weekends & it is something I thoroughly enjoy. I find it rather therapeutic and it also helps me keep in touch with so many people.

Decluttering is on the list of ‘to do items’ during this vacation. Must get rid of old clothes and miscellaneous paraphernalia. I have no clue why we have so many cables, wires, plugs, chargers, tools and the like. I have no idea about repairing electrical or mechanical items, have never fixed a fuse and can just about change a light bulb – so those items must definitely be discarded as junk. Another topic for an animated discussion at home is, ‘who has collected the most junk’.

I am proud to say that one ‘not so good habit of mine’ has been dispensed with. Actually, it dispensed with itself – I was quite a shopaholic and bought so much stuff that I actually did not need. Since the pandemic, the desire to buy clothes, shoes, ties, watches, socks etc. has waned. Sweat pants and sneakers are oh so comfortable!

Newspapers and the television will fill in the gaps !

Lastly – we have any number of relatives in the UAE and some good friends as well – hopefully we will catch up and spend some quality time together.

Summer will not be wasted for sure!     

 “Be the reason someone smiles today… Or the reason someone drinks. Whatever works.”

And then the fight began

 

It’s always a happy sight – young energetic parents engaging their kids in exercise and games. It’s so important to get them out in the fresh air and away from those mobile phones and the television.

 So last Friday I was out on the balcony, having a cup of tea and looking down on the large parking lot below. There was a sprinkling of cars parked and hence plenty of open space to play. It was also early in the morning – around 7.00 am, hence no traffic and relatively safe.

A young couple – probably in their late thirties or early forties came down with their two kids to engage them in exercise. There was a boy and girl aged about fourteen and ten   respectively. They had with them a lovely new cycle – all red and shining, and a cricket set. There seemed to be an air of excitement as son and dad got down to setting up the wickets, discussing rules and marking out the pitch. Mum and daughter were in animated discussion while looking at the bike which was on its stand.

I couldn’t help but smile at the love radiating from the family and admire the fact that parents were actually making ‘family bonding time’. Wish more parents did this, but everyone is always so busy. The father was strong looking, vigorous and healthy while the mother was tall and a bit on the plump side.

Dad had probably played some level of cricket in his life, because I saw him going through the motions with the bat in hand. He demonstrated the forward defence, the cover drive, the pull and the classic straight drive. I got the impression that the son looked a trifle bored and was eager to get on with the game. Dad decided to give the boy a lesson in batting and hence decided to bat first. They were using a tennis ball so pads and gloves were not being used. I saw the dad loosening up ,bending and stretching   and it made me think of doing some exercise myself. I have been neglecting this aspect lately. But more on that some other time.

From the way the young lad tossed the ball up and caught it deftly, I felt he knew a little more about the game than his father surmised. He then came speeding in, the dad went forward in defence and the stumps went crashing behind him. It all happened in a blur and I couldn’t help but smile.  Believe it or not, this happened four times in quick succession during the over. On the other two occasions the ball hit the father on the chest and face, sending his spectacles flying. Dad didn’t seem too pleased with the proceedings, made some vague comments while pointing at the sun and decided to bowl. In his defence, the sun was shining on to his face.

The young gun then took a stand and tapped the bat on the ground in eager anticipation. Dad came in and bowled. The first two balls were rather nightmarishly wide and the wife and daughter who were the only two spectators obliged, by fielding and giving the ball back to the bowler. I saw the wife giggling but thankfully the husband did not. It would not have gone down well for sure.

 The son threw up his hands in exasperation and looked disgusted at not being able to even touch the ball with his outstretched bat. I could see him remonstrating vehemently. The third ball was far better & the boy offered a straight bat in defence. This chap was coming across as a little pro. The father seemed to have regained his composure & confidence and came charging in, in quite an athletic fashion. The young boy took two steps forward, danced out and smashed the ball on to the terrace of the building beside the parking lot. It was a magnificent piece of batting, but as all terraces are locked, the game, for all intents and purposes was over. It ended with dad and son arguing, the boy throwing the bat on the ground in a temper tantrum and walking away in apparent disgust.

It did not need expertise in  rocket science to deduct, that father and son would not be playing cricket together for a very long time.

Match over, dad sat down on the ground to lick his wounds while wiping the sweat off his brow while mum decided to teach her daughter how to ride a bicycle. At first, she tried the ‘you sit and I push’ method. It didn’t work as the girl seemed extremely nervous and instead of cycling and trying to balance, she was looking back at her mother and falling down each time. This approach had definitely failed and both of them knew it. It was time for a change in strategy.

  Mum then decided to take things into her own hands, literally. She got her daughter off the bike and got on herself. I wouldn’t have done that if I was her, as she was a trifle heavy and the cycle rather small, hence her legs were resting on the ground. However, she was determined to teach her daughter how to ride a cycle that day.  

Now I am not too sure when she had last cycled, whether she had ever cycled before or if she was just calamitously unlucky. I can also state with a great amount of confidence that her husband had never seen her cycling during their years of marriage as his eyes were transfixed on her. Then without so much as a by your leave, she pedaled off. I could be wrong, but I think she had a bit of an uncertain, wobbly start, but kept going.

A few things then happened in quick succession.

 She sped off, peddling at full pelt, took too sharp a turn, while simultaneously calling out to her daughter to observe and learn, the bike slipped and before you could say Jack, she was on the ground with half the bike over her.  The daughter screamed, the husband jumped up, and they both ran to her assistance. There may have been a few tears as they both stood looking at her while she extracted herself from the cycle. She seemed to have hurt her foot as she was limping. It did not seem too serious. However, her ego and confidence seemed to have taken a bit of a beating & the new cycle was badly damaged and immovable.

All three stared at it for a while and then the father picked it up over his shoulder and they proceeded home, a bit downcast but infinitely wiser for the experience. The morning which started with such promise had  ended as a lost cause.

It was probably then that the fight began.   

Summer 2021

 

·       “Last year, I came away from the vacation thoroughly bloated and ten pounds heavier, convinced I’d blocked an artery and possibly shortened my lifespan by a few months. But I was also deliriously contented, which is surely what it’s all about.” – Cash Peters

 

There has been a lot of talk about the upcoming summer vacation. With 2020 being a total washout where vacations were concerned, any and everyone has been looking to 2021 to make up for lost time, and I don’t blame them.

At a dinner, that I had the pleasure to attend recently, along with senior Gems colleagues, there were eight of us at the table, and five were travelling to Greece, so I smiled, wished them Bon voyage, and began to seriously reconsider my options.  

The newspapers, over the past two or three weeks, had bombarded us with ample information about the so called ‘safe places’ to visit in July- August and I must admit they did look tempting.

Topping the list for my wife and myself was Seychelles with its tree houses, pristine nature views, delightful parks and amazingly tranquil beaches. We gave it a serious thought and decided to vacation there for two weeks. However, recently it is being touted as the ‘most romantic place for honeymooners this summer’. Not being in that category by a mile and not too keen about being surrounded by honey mooning couples, we have decided to give it a miss.

Spain, Germany, Greece, Sweden, Switzerland, Georgia, Greenland and Iceland were all on the ‘Welcome list’ and had been termed as safe for tourists. However, Pune in India is home, and hence we zeroed in on ‘going home for a month’, relaxing, enjoying the monsoons and catching up with old friends. However, as things stand today, what with the ‘Delta variant’ making the headlines, my wife and I are still torn between the devil and the deep blue sea.

 Now this is so unlike me. Under normal circumstances, holiday decisions and dates are finalized by February and flight tickets and hotel reservation confirmed by March. I am even packed two weeks in advance and usually get on everyone’s nerves in the family, by continuously reminding them to get their packing done. To sum it up, I hate anything that is last minute and I put this down to being a bit of a nervous traveler.

 No, its not the plane or the flying or anything of that sort– that’s the fun part – it’s just the thought of arriving at the airport late, having luggage that is overweight, having something wrong with the passport or missing the flight that stresses me out. Believe me when I say I have gone through all of the above!

Perhaps I should let you into a secret – in my heart of hearts I am actually relieved that we are not going on holiday this year. At least nothing has been finalized as yet.  I have made plans and thought of plenty to do in the UAE that is less stressful and yet a lot of fun. At least I will be in control of my life. Just imagining being stuck in a hotel in Georgia or Iceland and not knowing when I can return gives me nightmares.

I know a large number of people who are travelling and I wish them luck. Hope and pray you stay safe and return after an enjoyable holiday!

On a more serious note, even before we break for summer, ‘September and school re-opening’ is on everybody’s mind.

Will schools reopen on time and what will the scenario be like is the million dollar question?

 Blended learning?

 Another partial lockdown?

Back to online classes?

Normalcy - with schools open, pupils back in classes and everything honky dory?

Prize days, concerts and competitions?

If wishes were horses – beggars would ride.

Everyone is tired, frustrated and stressed out- not only of Covid itself, but of the accompanying indecisiveness, the inability to plan and the actual loss of days, months and years of our lives. The fun and frolic of school and work has been robbed from us and we are forced to ‘smile, endure, and make the best of a bad bargain, and that for me is a sad state of affairs.

However, I am positive and hopeful by nature and who knows what may happen within the next month or so. I sincerely hope that things are better soon and the world begins to heal.

I am sure that is what we are all HOPING and PRAYING for.

HOPE

 

From the time that Covid 19 was declared a pandemic, I have been a close observer of how people have reacted. I have watched, wondered, marveled and pondered.

It has made me smile in disbelief, laugh and cringe simultaneously, wince in pain & at times, almost cry in sadness, at the way the world, and all of us have reacted, from time to time. We are a strange species indeed.  Just wonder if we are getting worse?

If you have been following the happenings of the world over the last two years, and I am sure most of you have, in some way or the other, then you will understand what I mean.  

1.  The first group of people are those that were in complete denial from day one. They kept informing all and sundry, at every opportune moment, that Covid was not so serious and would soon be over. They referred to it as the over exaggerated, Common Flu, and guffawed at everyone else for taking requisite precautions. They went about their business as if nothing was wrong, and the whole world was insane. They were super spreaders - directly responsible for spreading the virus themselves, getting more people ill than necessary, and not feeling guilty about it.  Surely the height of absurdity.

2. The second were the Defeatists. Seemingly related to Nostradamus, they declared in all their wisdom, that the world was doomed. They believed we would all die sooner than later and that the human population was being wiped out gradually and systematically. According to them, it was a well-conceived plan. They lived-in constant fear, refusing to step out of the house, even when permitted to do so. They swallowed every vitamin available with the chemist, made their own concoctions at home, and did more than necessary to try and stay healthy, and boost their immune system. More often than not, they overdid everything and lived in constant fear of either getting Covid or dying. Life was miserable but, hats off to them, they endured it manfully.

3. Then came those who blamed everyone and everything. They blamed China, they blamed India, they blamed the United States, they blamed Mr Modi, they blamed Mr Trump, they blamed Mr Putin, they blamed Bill Gates, they blamed bats, they blamed poultry markets, and they blamed the health systems all over the world for misleading them. They believed they knew exactly what had caused Covid. They called it a world conspiracy of epic proportions.  

4.Next were the anti vaxers. Now these super suspicious, ‘know it all’ humans, from the Google and WhatsApp universities, were determined that the vaccine production, testing and approval was firstly rushed & hence it would either maim or even worse, kill them and their loved ones. They believed that it was purposeless, unproductive and ineffective. They went around spreading irrelevant rumours, poking fun, and causing futile panic wherever possible, especially on social media. According to them, we didn’t need a vaccine in the first place, as it was not going to help in any way. Apparently, according to their logic, it was a method to control world population.  They felt that they had ample antibodies, were sufficiently healthy to fight off the virus, and could survive without taking the vaccine. Tragically, they tried their best to convince others not to take the vaccine as well. Surprisingly they disregarded and nullified all medical advice, irrespective of which country it came from.   

5. Lastly came those who remained calm, wise and who were not swayed by emotions. They took proper medical advice & got the vaccine as and when it was made available. They observed all the necessary precautions, attempted to stay healthy, took the normal vitamins, ate sensibly, followed the instructions of the authorities, didn’t take unnecessary risks, above all, stayed positive and lived in the hope that the world would heal and things would be better in due course.

Hope is an extremely powerful tool, and coupled with faith in God, it contributes to our wellbeing and happiness, while motivating us to be positive in body, mind and spirit.

Human beings live with a number of emotions – and at present, some of the most powerful ones which threaten to take over the world are restlessness, fear and depression. Thus, it is important to be as positive as possible, to be happy and hopeful.

In order to be hopeful, there are some things we need to remember to do.

Be content, focus on the good, spread positivity, accept change, embrace failure, include others, be friendly and approachable, worry less, avoid stress, take up a hobby, & spread love. Not easy I know & obviously, you can’t do everything and succeed every time but it’s the effort that counts.

In everyone’s life, there are times when we feel sad and sorry for ourselves and that is normal. We psyche ourselves into believing that everything is wrong with our life and good with everyone else’s. We start comparing, and the more we compare, the worse we feel. It’s happened with all of us- with our parents and their ancestors too.

However, the simple, message is – WORRY LESS AND HOPE MORE. When you address every challenge in life under the assumption that everything invariably works out, it usually does!  

 I will end with a few lines titled –HOPE

 

‘’Hope is the place where you want to go

Hope is the person you want to know

Hope is the feeling that carries you through

And hope is the future for me and you’’

    

 

Do ghosts exist or am I just a silly oneironaut

 

Disclamer

 

As you all know I worked in The Bishop’s school, Pune for twenty years and lived on campus, in five  different flats over the years. Now, I am not implying that the school was  haunted when I was there . No harm ever came to me or my family, and I was never terrified or any such thing . I also believe I am a bit of a psychic but then again …….

 You can attribute this story to a very fertile & vivid imagination, poor eyesight, or just an old school master pulling the legs of his pupils.

Whatever your interpretation – I am just  amusing myself,so do not read too much into it, or ask me to elaborate.

On the other hand, it could be thought provoking- it may bring back memories – it may awaken the senses and may make you say “oh goodness me, so that was it.’’ Or you may just pass it off with a guffaw and  a smile ………….whatever Sir!!

 

Whether you believe these stories or not, does not matter. However, innumerable people at my time maintained that the campus had its fair share of supernatural happenings. Staff and pupils did often discuss some strange occurrences in and around the campus, but it was all passed off as a joke. I did meet a few pupils who had passed out in the sixties and seventies and even before that – all boarders – I must say that some of them told me some creepy & bizarre stories too. However, none could ever be substantiated- nor can mine for that matter. This could be the joke of 2021!

 

Now let me jog your memory.

 

Just close your eyes & think about the innumerable times you had to carry piles of chairs and put them back, under the stage, after the Friday movie. All boarders and a few day scholars. How did you feel?

 What about that narrow, dingy passage near the infirmary and past grade 9 A and B. Most boys avoided it after dark!

What about when you were sent to get the Logbook from the MOD’s table after dinner, and the area was unlighted and gloomy– and then you had to pass the Billiard room! Somehow the wind howled louder around that building. Going home after filling in  the MOD log book after dinner , I often looked over my shoulder as I felt someone was following me.  

Mark my words- I am not using the word haunted, because haunted somehow has evil connotations for me - let me just reiterate – I was in Bishops for 20 years, and yes, we did feel peculiar at times. However, there were no ghastly apparitions, no phantoms or specters but I think I know what I saw, heard and felt and the term I will use is ‘spooky’. I could be wrong, and it could be my imagination but read on if you care.   

 

Am going to divide this article into a few parts, as this is a  story with no  beginning or  end – not even a middle for that matter.

 

 Lunn block terrace

 

As a young family back in the early  80’s, we often slept on the terrace of Lunn block, during the summer vacation, as I was the dormitory in-charge and lived on the second floor just beside the dormitory. It was cool, fresh and mosquito free on the terrace and sleeping under the starlit sky was exhilarating. I owned a ‘Bush Two in one radio cum tape recorder’, so there was music too.

The cool breeze ensured a good night’s sleep. We had a Pomeranian as a pet, and often she would bark at night and charge about in a frenzy.

 At first, we thought nothing of it and scolded her for disturbing us, but one night is extremely vivid in my memory. It was a cloudy night and very still. We awoke with a start, to the dog barking very differently, and looked around to try and see what had provoked her. She seemed to be scrutinizing the corner of the terrace near the water tank- barking ferociously, backing off and yelping at the same time. I tried to call her back, in vain. She then suddenly charged toward the terrace door and began jumping up in the air as if to catch something. I stood up, picked up a hockey stick I kept nearby, but saw nothing.  Then the unexpected happened – the dog made one last lunge, barked uncontrollably and then, bawling, with her tail tucked between her legs, she ran backwards, towards the water tank, and hid under it, crying out loud. She refused to budge, despite my coaxing.We folded up the bedding and went downstairs immediately & never slept on the terrace thereafter. When I told the watchman about it, he said it was probably a monkey. I still do not know what to believe and yes it could have been a monkey for sure!

 

Simba dormitory

 

This was another place where something rather bizarre once took place. I was the dormitory in-charge and lived on the second floor just beside the dormitory.

We returned rather late from a party. To keep the rather skillful boarders inside, and make sure that they did not try and slip out for a midnight meal, we had started locking the three gates – at the entrance to the dorm; just before you descended the steps and then downstairs at the entrance to the building. Not sure if they had made duplicate keys, as some were quite devious and were up to all the tricks.

Anyway, as we entered the building, we clearly heard footsteps going up the steps ahead of us. At first, I thought it was an echo but was wrong. I called out “who’s there’’. There was no reply.

 Every time we stopped; the footsteps stopped as well. This happened twice or thrice. I thought I heard someone coughing but could not be sure. We went till the top – all sixty-five steps carrying our two little ones. As we reached the gate at the top, the footsteps were heard one last time and then fell silent. I opened the gate to the top floor gingerly, and yes, I think I was trembling – the dormitory was locked, so no one could have been out by any chance. Who was on the steps ahead of us and where did that person go? The door to the terrace was locked hence anyone going up there was out of the question. The person had vanished into thin air.  The mystery baffled me. I asked some boarders the next morning but they all said they were asleep – something I doubted.

 

 Cambridge dormitory

 

This dormitory with its creaking staircase, cobwebs and lose floorboards had its own share of alien footfalls.  Mr Derek Beaman, who we all remember fondly, was no more, and his quarters in Cambridge block and the entire top floor remained locked up ever since he had passed. We had stopped using the dormitory for over a year or so, hence it was a trifle dark & rather dilapidated. One dim light at the entrance was switched on daily, after dinner, by the watchman.

 On a few evenings we thought we heard  the distinct sound of a vessel being washed and put down/ at times dropped  – then there was the sound of  a tap being opened and water flowing ----------- things that Mr Beaman did regularly at about the same time, after the boarders’ s supper , while he stayed there – ( We stayed in the staff  quarters in Simba and could almost look into his  flat )What were those noises and who was making them. Were we imagining? The building was empty. The strange sounds baffled us.

 

 Late one night

 

Came home past midnight, all four of us on our scooter- driving up from East Street towards the roundabout outside Bishops, past the large palatial Talera bungalow on the left. We could either go straight past the crossing, and enter through the wicket gate near the kitchen, or go right, and enter through the wicket gate near the office. As we approached the small round about, we saw something freakish.  Standing in the middle of the road which went towards the kitchen gate/ Racecourse, was a very tall fair woman, in a white knee length dress, carrying a large blue suitcase in the right hand. It seemed light and empty.  Her left hand was up- palm facing outwards, as if she wanted to stop oncoming traffic and request a lift. I saw her from about twenty meters and my heart skipped a beat or two. Needless to add, I accelerated, turned right, and sped towards the office gate from where I entered the campus. Yes, my wife saw her too.

On making enquiries the next day, I was told by the school support staff that that a similar figure was seen on that road once or twice a year and in the vicinity of the army house at the crossing. There is a story about her they said- it was not a very pleasant one. That sighting was eerie, and it played on my mind every time we came home late at night. Thankfully, we never saw her again. Were we imagining?

 

 

The  Principal’s bungalow

 

 Returning home after a movie one night, and entering on my scooter from the office gate, we saw the watchman sitting at the gate to the Principal’s bungalow. He was facing towards the office gate. About ten feet behind him, lying on his stomach and peering into the bungalow was a figure of a man- his face almost touching the bungalow steps. I rode passed on my scooter but thought it so strange. So, I parked outside the billiard room, reached the family upstairs in Simba block, and walked back to check. The watchman, when asked as to who I had seen a few minutes ago, feigned complete ignorance, and said that he had no idea. He swore he had not seen or heard anybody. To his credit he was wide awake and sober.

 

The wedding

 

 Returned from a relative’s wedding and it must have been past one am. We were about to go to sleep on the Simba dorm terrace – summertime as usual. Had barely closed the terrace door, when we heard a female voice, distinctly calling out my wife’s name. At first, we thought it was her mother who was visiting us at the time. It was past one am! When the calling was repeated for the third time, I opened the terrace door & went down- I opened the door to our flat and went in.  All was completely silent, and no relatives were awake. I then went downstairs to see if there was anyone outside. As expected, there was no one. Who called out and why we will never know?

 

The Face on the cupboard

 

One night, there was a minor fire in one of the residential master’s flats – they resided on the first floor of Junior school building – it may have been around midnight. I will make this short – I rushed to help & together we  managed to extinguish the fire which had begun when a large candle had fallen over on to a cushion. When we cleared up the mess in the room, we were shocked when we looked at the cupboard – etched on the front, and very clear, was the face of an old man. The house suddenly smelled musty and damp.  I can tell you who the face  resembled if ever you want to know. I presume the family discarded that cupboard the next day!

 

The Piano

 

There was a story of the sound of a piano being played in the Principal’s bungalow late at night and this was from a very reliable source. I once asked the Principal about the supposed ‘music at midnight’, but he just guffawed in his typical style and said ‘Rubbish- people make up all these stories’.  I dare not tell him who told me!

 

I heard several other stories from visiting  Bishopites over the years – some eerie and others which made me think and believe that I was not going off my head.

 

Coming to think of it, I am writing this story here in Dubai – and even if it ever did, all this supposedly happened over twenty years ago – was it just a frightening dream?)

 Frankly, I am not sure. Am I an oneironaut?

 

“I shall not commit the fashionable stupidity of regarding everything I cannot explain as a fraud.

― Carl Jung