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Wednesday, 18 December 1996

Jerrald Popley
Jerrald Popley
I have some very pleasant and happy memories of my years at Loyola — I was a hostelite from 1959 to 1964. One cannot forget Fr. Hess’ cleaning of the throat, Mr. Rao’s elephantine memory and chits, Fr. Dineen’s Paddle whacks, Mr. Burrows’ spankings, Br. Braganza’s cacti collection, Fr. Dietrich’s ghost stories and pranks, and Fr. Currie’s mixing with the boys.

One can easily recollect gems, instances of team spirit and camaraderie interspersed with sports and academic brilliance that helped shape character. But life at Loyola was different. There was something extra. It is difficult to pin down. The incidents related will help to give an idea of academic and hostel life at Loyola.

Normally hostel life is strictly regimented. This can be trying, especially for newcomers. So was it at Loyola.

One hot Sunday afternoon Sultan, Alwyn and I decided to skip games and cool off. Using pants and towels we blocked the drain and vents of the shower door and made ourselves a luxurious swimming pool. The window was locked to keep out prying eyes and the noise, while its ledge was our diving-board. It was great fun.

Recognition for the academically brilliant
Recognition for the academically brilliant
Suddenly there was a knock on the door followed by “Open up. Who is inside?” It was Fr. John Prabhu, Hostel Superintendent. Almost simultaneously we felt that silence would make Father go away so each one tried “Shush, don’t make a noise”. Too late. Father called out our names and ordered us to open the door. We did. Swoosh! The water gushed out nearly sweeping Fr. Prabhu away, along with the odd pants and towels. It was a pretty sight!

There was no punishment. We were, however, told in no uncertain terms that bath time was 5.00 p.m.

It was a hot afternoon. Fr. Power was teaching English when suddenly the fans stopped. A native question brought a Srinivasan gem “Power is off”. Naturally the class was in splits of laughter, and equally naturally Srini had to leave class!

Finally, I envy all you Old Boys staying in and around Jamshedpur, because of the opportunity you have to be in touch with Loyola — the Staff and students, both old and new. My regret is not only not being able to be in touch with Loyola, except for a few Old Boys, but also to learn that the hostel has been closed down.

Long live Loyola and the wonderful people who are guiding its destiny into the 21st century.

 
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