A peep into the past of St Teresa’s from the 1950s

Each breath of the past is fragrant with their scent, so delicate and sweet. I walk the root strewn path with care, with flowers at my feet. How difficult it is to go and leave the scene behind. Like Wordsworth with his daffodils, I see them in my mind

St Teresa’s today is a showpiece of an educational institution where we taught and survived, ere the sun rose on the NAAC and UGC largesse

My mind travels back in time when I entered its gates as acolyte for the intermediate course. Admission was easy as apple pie for all that my guardian had to say to Sister Digna was this girl wants to study here, she is from Sri Lanka. All done. Name entered, in register, class-room pointed out and I was in.

 There were two massive buildings supported by bulwarks. The centre building encapsulated a small room for the tiny principal, and a spacious office. Upstairs were the science labs. Classes were held on the ground floor of the hostel just built while the staff quarters overlooked the park avenue road at the back of these massive buildings.

 We could hear from our classes, the thathis beating the laundry by the side of the big water tanks and saw soap bubbles floating and winking in the sunlight. This was where we now have the old and plush auditoriums.

 We intermediates were ordered to carry bricks to build the old existing auditorium a testament to our grumbles

In my youth the auditorium was in the long hall of what may now be the language staff rooms. Plays were acted on the stage then, us girls made to look like men thanks to Miss Alwyn and Sister Hyacinth. Dancers too rollicked there. There were a group of Jewish girls who performed their traditional dances. There was no air conditioning only a few sad fans but plenty of spectators who had to stand on tiptoe to watch the performances.

The library was on the ground floor. Miss Alwyns eagle eye kept the tomes slick and shiny. We thought then that the park belonged to St Teresa’s and so on those fair evenings we were allowed to get a breath of fresh air of course watched by crowds of young men salivating at such a galaxy of young girls. We even had our sports day in the park.

 College day was when all of us in our Sunday best sat down in the quadrangle to meet our teacher. Prize distribution for academic success was announced vocally on a makeshift platform, accompanied by loud cheers. No teacher was alien to us

 A vortex of memories flood thro my mind. Sr. Digna, Sr. Concepta, Sr. Seraphia, Sr. Marie Therese, Sr Therese Marie, Miss Muree, Miss Cherian, Miss Ammu, Sr. Hyacinth, Sr. Theodora, Miss Mani, cosmetologist Miss Pillai and the youngest Sr. Anne Felice. They did not shirk from teaching us ,They were the stalwarts who moulded our minds and actions

 You may know some of them of the seniors league