User:Patelurology2/Peter Rogerson

Mr. Peter Rogerson O.B.E., M.A. (Cantab.) Principal RKC, 1963-1991 - see in Edit mode click on edit this page tab


 * Rajkumar College, Rajkot
 * Trinity Hall, Cambridge-Studied history


 * College pays rich tribute to Sir Peter Rogerson, OBE: Mar 31, 2009
 * London Gazette: Order of the British Empire Peter Rogerson: OBE Award 1987
 * Oct 5, 2008:By Lavkumar Khachar of Jasdan in Tribute to Mr Mark Alexander Wynter-Blyth, the former Principal: One of these was destined sixteen years on to be his worthy successor, the one and only charismatic, Peter Rogerson


 * The Peter Rogerson Memorial Searchlight Tattoo:As a prior officer in the Sikh regiment, Rogerson fashioned the programme on the lines of a military drum performance. Searchlight Tatoo
 * Peter Rogerson:Bust,a Memorial by a Padma Shree awardee artist


 * The College pays rich tribute to Sir Peter Rogerson, OBE


 * Mr Peter Rogerson memorial
 * The Indian Public Schools Conference Trust:Trustee 1985-86
 * Member of IPSC Executive committee 1986
 * Architect of Endeavour magazine, the periodical of the Rajkumar College, Rajkot


 * Googleimages search


 * Peter Rogerson Searchlight Tattoo


 * Rajkumar College, better known as RkC, performs the 'Peter Rogerson Memorial Searchlight Tattoo', a musical-cum-dance-cum-gymnastics programme, Nov 2011


 * <!--- A living legend, Peter Rogerson made history at RKC for around forty-two of his sixty-eight years. He seldom left the College except for spells at ‘Shabbir House’ in Mangrol or when required to attend conferences. Not all the persuasion in the world shook his strong determination to live and, as it tragically turned out - die at his beloved Rajkumar College. He loved his Family in the U.K. dearly and they treasured him but he could not bring himself to visit them in spite of all the arrangements they made to hospitalize him, for cardiac treatment he was in need of urgently. He feared that his brothers would pressurize him to stay on with them even though they assured him that they would respect his wishes.

The situation never arose. Sat on the steps of the Duleep Pavilion whilst addressing the Final Year boys and staff in his characteristic manner he could only have had a premonition of his last moments on that fateful evening of March 31″, 1991 as he gently said, “…….and now, for my last words”. Indeed they were. He bent over on his right side and slipped away to eternity. The glorious Rogersonian era had come to an end. Peter Rogerson’s end was as dramatic and as poetic as the incredible life he lived. A gentleman of the finest order, everything he said and did emanated from that one premise. Hundredth Birthday Anniversary on 5th May, 2023 First born of a Father who was awarded the Military Cross TWICE over for gallantry by the British Army and a gentle Mother, the love of his life, who wrote poetry for her son, Peter Rogerson inherited the best attributes of each of his Parents. These combined to make one of the finest human beings the College could call its own.

After studying History at Trinity Hall, Cambridge, Peter Rogerson opted for a career in the Indian Army. As an Officer in the Sikh Regiment, Captain Rogerson was posted in the sub-continent’s North West Frontier Province. It was love at first sight. He studied Urdu, mastered it and qualified for teaching and examining his Cadets. He published the Regiment’s Newsletter, travelling to Lahore to print it at the Civil and Military Gazette - once edited by Kipling. Captain Rogerson was in his element!

Back at Cambridge in 1949, Goldstein, a friend, brought over an advertisement he’d noticed in the Sunday Times inviting applications for the post of a House Master at Rajkumar College. Enamored of India as Captain Rogerson was, he applied, was selected by M.A. Wynter Blyth, the Principal. and soon enough found himself sailing East to India at a time when most Englishmen were travelling West! There was rapid adjustment to civilian life and school mastering. Captain of his Old School, Ellesmere and then Captain Rogerson of the Sikh Regiment, Peter Rogerson proved more than equal to it! His remarkable qualities of mind and heart soon gained the respect and admiration of his boys and associates.

The senior boys to whom he was House Master grew to love him. Being British merely complemented his being more Indian that a lot of Indians. ‘SIR’ or ‘Roggie’ as he was affectionately called had become one of and one with them - an indispensable, life-long father figure, friend and confidante. The sheer warmth of his presence made a tremendous difference to everybody not least the naughtiest of his charges. Peter Rogerson had already become an RKCian! He had hamessed all his great talent and boundless energy and imagination to meet his challenges.

A club for the seniors seemed a priority to set the scene for fellowship. What’s more, the idea clicked so well, the boys offered to fund the Club from their pocket money! A Tea Committee was formed for serving drinks and refreshment. With a mass of material for meaningful leisure-time activity, photographs and murals added, the Senior Club was poised to receive the highest in the land - and it did! Governing it all was a code of conduct. RKCians were expected to be gentlemen the world over! The seniors had a glowing example in their House Master.

As First Officer of RKC’s National Cadet Corps, Captain Rogerson groomed his Cadets to be the smartest and the best by setting a personal example. In subsequent years FIVE RKC boys were judged All-India Best Junior Division Cadets. They had the honor of taking part in the Republic Day Parades in Delhi when the Indian President or an international dignitary took the salute. It was easy to see Captain Rogerson’s crucial role in this outstanding military achievement. A special trophy was presented to the College for this distinction.

It was not only ‘khakhi’ that brought us credit. The school uniform of ‘khakhi ‘ shorts/skirts and cream shirts as worn today decades later, were originally given its military touches by Captain Rogerson.

The entire Prefectural system was formalized and the award of badges and ranks made into a dignified ceremonial. It became traditional for boys to receive their crimson badges with gold stripes from the Principal. It was a very solemn moment for a boy. Simultaneously, it was made abundantly clear that ‘top brass’ ruled NOT by the sword but by brotherly understanding. Peter Rogerson, House Master, seniors, set such a shining example of just that.

Literature classes in preparation for the Cambridge examinations brought forth Peter Rogerson’s legendary communication skills. The boys looked forward to his classes and the knowledge he shared with them. He never ‘preached’ - he talked to his boys as man to man and they revered him for it.

Peter Rogerson used drama as a vehicle to discover and nurture dramatic talent. Especially, over his fourteen years as House Master, he produced a variety of theatrical pieces, sketches, dramatisations and entertainments in the Senior Club on its terrace much to the delight of the boy participants and the audiences. Many may remember ‘Radio RkC’. ‘Fa/codr and ‘Stinker. These were all pieces written by House Master, seniors, himself. There were also full-length plays of Shaw, Wilde, Shakespeare and others. They were memorable performances. Could anyone forget ‘The Importance of Being Earnest’ or ‘Arms and the Man’?

It was, however, the Searchlight Tattoo, later to be re-named ‘The Peter Rogerson Memorial Searchlight Tattoo’ that captured the hearts and imagination of the spectators. Irs masterful blend of light sound and movement set in a vast arena had no parallel. The earliest Tattoo was performed between the walls of the tennis courts with Peter Rogerson LIVE on the piano - yes, he was a fantastic performer, who could play the classics or improvise Hindi film songs! The Tattoo developed over the years into the grand, panoramic spectacle - is today performed in an arena spanning a vast portion of the South Ground, with a backdrop of the front East fa<;;ade of the College before which displays and comic interludes set to evocative music, beat by beat are performed non-stop for around three hours. Virtually the whole school, students and staff, participate in one or other aspect of the production.

In 1986, Peter Rogerson was voted Chairman of the All-India body of the Indian Public Schools’ Conference. In this arena, too, he was to make a superb contribution. In 1981, the College hosted the Annual General Meeting of the IPSC for the second time. A new constitution was prepared by His Highness Sriraj Meghrajji of Dhrangadhra, the College’s President, which was presented to the Members of the IPSC. His Highness also designed and gifted a beautiful Coat of Arms, which has been used ever since by the IPSC.

Not long after Peter Rogerson took over as Principal and after the sorrowful, most untimely demise of His Highness Maharaja Jam Shri Digvijaysinhji of Nawanagar, Her Highness expressed a wish to build a fitting memorial in tribute to His Late Highness, the College’s illustrious President for twenty-six eventful years. His late Highness epitomised those essential qualities of leadership and gentlemanliness - loyalty, justice, discipline and service - which he urged RKCians everywhere to practice. In due course, a most befitting memorial was envisaged and gifted munificently by Her Highness Rajmata Gulabkunverba of Nawanagar. The main body of the new single-storey memorial wing designed in the semi-Gothic architecture similar to the three existing wings consisted of Reception and Conference. Rooms, twelve subject-wise classrooms, a very spacious Library and a comprehensive Science block.

Named, the Jam Shri Digvijaysinhji Bhavan, its opening was scheduled for the 1″ of April 1970. His Holiness Sri Sathya Sai Baba graced this historic, holy occasion with his benign presence. His Holiness singled out Peter Rogerson for a rare honor in the form of a gem-encrusted gold ring. It was the holy man’s acknowledgement of Peter Rogerson’s great virtues and recognition of the manner in which he selflessly used these gifts and talents in the service of all mankind. The ring was never taken off his finger. Peter Rogerson lies at rest with it in the British Cemetery at Rajkot.

It was time now, for yet another honor, recognition of the great Schoolmaster Principal’s genius! This time from the country of his birth. It was conveyed to Peter Rogerson in June 1987 that Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II was pleased to award her distinguished subject, the ‘Order of the British Empire’ in recognition of all the worthy services he had rendered over so many years. Few knew of this honor conferred on Rajkumar College’s Principal. With characteristic modesty Peter Rogerson declined proposals for a public investiture on behalf of the Queen by the British High Commissioner. He preferred to call on his Excellency informally and quietly accepted the honor awarded to him. He always referred to the OBE as “Old Boys Endeavour”.

Such was Peter Rogerson. Was there ever such a man? An excerpt from the epitaph on his monument in the British Cemetery at Rajkot, incisively drafted by His Highness Maharaja Sriraj Megrajji of Dhrangadhra, the College’s President at the time, says it all:

Devoted to his task, Mindless of self, Open-Hearted, Open-handed, Model of Modesty, BELOVED BY ALL By his very qualifies and sterling example A PRECEPTOR

A divine Providence has guided the destiny of Rajkumar College these hundred and thirty seven years, bequeathing us with Peter Rogerson, who was everything a School could wish of its Principal.

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 * Father Arthur Rogersonsee in edit mode



Mr. Peter Rogerson OBE, MA (Cantab.) - Archive.is – webpage capture

<!--- A MASTERPIECE OF NATURE

Sir - Peter Rogerson b 5th May 1923

Inline image 5th May,1923 – 31st March 1991

My heart insists that my book would be incomplete without an article on my mentor; my mind warns me that I must not be so foolish as to attempt the impossible. Nothing that I write would do this incomparable man justice. The readers, however, must have realised that he is, in fact, implicitly present in many of the preceding articles.

His arrival marked a watershed in the history of the Rajkumar College; his initiatives and approach set it on a road of amazing change like never before and for all time to come. His was a course of infinite vision and perseverance. He lived the life of a simple man with super attributes that he wore lightly. What is more, he refused to acknowledge that there was a wicked world and evil men that he had to take on and bring to book. He did not live amongst angels bereft of the human weaknesses of envy, dislike or hatred; quite the contrary. He preferred to live and let live; to challenge prejudices with objectivity, open-mindedness and tolerance.

Such was his attachment to the School and his responsibilities that he rarely visited his doting family in the UK. Nor did he visit England for urgent cardiac treatment in his late sixties.

He came to RkC of independent India in 1949, when most Englishmen were on their way home. Not all were pleased with the arrival of this smart, handsome Englishman. Envy reached its zenith when, within months, he proved himself far superior in just about every area of public school life - whether it be the quality and enjoyment of teaching, prowess at games and sports, creativity in music and dramatics. His gentlemanly demeanour and unaffected courtesy won all hearts.

A 26-year-old found himself the mentor of a number of adolescents (with a few boys almost his own age) whose idea of fun and machismo was to break every conceivable rule that governed them; and who naturally resented the fact that this recent import had come to straighten them out.

That in almost no time at all he overcame these prejudices, won the respect and admiration of most in his charge and a large number of colleagues, reveals the amazing charisma of the man. This was the natural consequence of his saintly patience, refined graciousness and unwavering belief in the basic goodness of his students.

‘Sir’ was a beautiful blend of his father – a disciplined military man who had won the Military Cross twice for gallantry – and his mother, the gentlest of souls who wrote poetry. Sir doted on his family, his mother and sister especially. This merging in him of the fine qualities of a soldier and a compassionate soul were the ideal attributes for his new assignment. He had his work cut out and he set about it with missionary zeal.

His chief challenge and indeed only concern was to nurture the young men in his charge into educated gentlemen. Much earlier than expected, the 1949 -50-51 batch of Senior boys who had looked on him at first with apprehension and a degree of animosity, began to trust him, respect him, love him and even to adore him, for all time to come. He became the silent inspiration of thousands of questioning hearts.

How did he work this magic? What was his magic wand or magic chant? His unadulterated goodness, his single-minded approach, his charm, his affection for his students and inspirational creative imagination worked like magic. He brought about what may be considered ordinary changes and yet they turned out to be of major significance. These changes became permanent trends in RkC culture. The uniform was smartened up and the boys now wore their shoulder badges, house colours and prefectural ranks with pride. The Club (the boys’ recreation room) was set up, and the boys’ committee took pride in its administration.

An offshoot of the Club was the Tea Committee which served tea, biscuits and soft drinks on payment of coupons. At Club times the Tea Committee functioned from a designated corner, marked by a semi-circular wooden counter which was christened the Bar. On one occasion the Bar got the establishment into unexpected trouble. A prefect escorting the Home Minister of the Saurashtra Government proudly pointed out the ‘Bar’ from where the boys served tea and drinks. The Gandhian could not believe that the kunvars were openly served ‘drinks’ in school. He wasted no time in calling up the Raj Pramukh, HH the Jamsaheb of Navanagar, who was also the Chairman of the School’s Governing Council. The telephones began ringing, and only after considerable consternation, was the matter finally laid to rest! The Senior Boys were not perturbed – they had a good laugh, and they laugh about it still! All told the atmosphere of the Senior House was a very happy one.

Inline image

“The Bar”

Sir was constantly on the move. There was no time of day or night when one could be sure that he would not turn up in the most unexpected places. By habit or design he wore shoes with soft soles that made his coming and going quite unnoticeable. We were once enjoying forbidden ice cream in the Prefect’s study at preparation time. We spotted him coming towards us in the nick of time and I swiftly sat on the table, hiding the thermos behind me. Sir chatted with us pleasantly for a long time. Just as we were getting anxious he decided to leave. He stepped out of the room, only to turn back and say, “I hope you enjoyed the ice cream!” That was all and it was enough to make us feel sheepish and guilty. I have been told that in the early years a very senior boy, on seeing Sir approaching, just managed to put his hand - which was holding a lit cigarette - into his pocket. Sir kept talking to the boy until he was forced to bring his burnt hand out of his pocket!

The boys had to work out a system of warning so as not to be caught red-handed. There was usually a relay of whispered messages, ‘Roggie aave chhey, Roggie aave chhey’ (Roggie is coming, Roggie is coming). Often the warning voice of Sir’s arrival was none other than that of Roggie himself! He would approach a group of boys engrossed in talk, with his hands shielding the sides of his mouth and loudly whisper, ‘Roggie aave chhey’! One night at about 2.00 a.m. as he came out of his quarters, he noticed a light in a classroom on the ground floor at the far end of the House. There he met Dhafdu, so nicknamed for his rather flabby anatomy, all curled up with a book under a razai on this 1950 winter night. “I am very happy to see you taking your Board Examination so seriously, but you must not study so late at night. Sound sleep is essential,” he said. “But Sir, I am not studying, I am reading Agatha Christie,” protested Dhafdu. One can go on and on about Sir’s happy ‘confrontations’ with his incorrigible, beloved boys.

The Club was one method of getting closer to the seniors. Another particularly effective way was through dramatics. Rumour has it that Sir was going to be a film actor. Whether this is true or not, he certainly had the looks of a star and the talent for acting. The film industry’s loss was RkC’s gain. He enabled the students to get onto the stage and this did a world of good for their self-esteem and confidence, not to speak of bonding with the great man himself. In his term of 14 years as House Master, Sir directed and produced several memorable plays and musicals.

One of my regrets is that Sir did not bring to life ’Fantasia 84’, a programme that he wanted to present as an alternative to the Tattoo. It takes the form of the permanent fixtures in the Quadrangle such as the fountain, the neem tree, the clock tower, conversing nostalgically about happenings in the school. As they speak about these events the stage lights up and the episodes are enacted. Sir had written an amusing and informative script for the play in doggerel. Included in the performances were some of his favourite recitation passages.

His introduction of evening lecturettes by the boys was a precursor to self-confidence building exercises and helped create familiarity with the complex foreign language, English. This was soon upgraded to regular debates held under very strict rules of decorum.

Sir often spoke with nostalgic pride about his service in the British Indian army as a Captain in the Sikh Regiment. He loved the uniform and he loved India even more. Therefore at the very first opportunity he accepted the invitation to return to India, never to return ‘home’ except for brief, infrequent visits. I would like to believe that RkC chose to introduce the NCC army unit at Sir’s suggestion. He obviously became its First Officer. His uniform and perfect military deportment inspired and attracted boys to volunteer for NCC and perform admirably in All-India Public School camps, ultimately resulting in the unbroken record of five Best All-India Junior Division Cadets from one institution. The boys’ discipline, fine marching and skilled rifle drill performances must have given Sir the confidence to produce the Tattoo. Moreover, RkCians took pride in the very military way in which they generally conducted themselves, whether it be the manner in which they walked up to receive prizes or ran onto the victory stand or smartly marched in and away with the hurdles during athletics, or simply queued up for meals or assemblies. RkC became in many ways a liberal military academy under Sir’s influence.

One of the qualities that helped Sir to win the respect of the demanding public school boys was his outstanding performance on the games field. He was a Cambridge Blue in rugby and hockey and could play just about every game offered at RkC with a high standard of performance. I have never forgotten his score of over 60 runs, the highest of a cricket match between the Staff and the Boys, and his very last at the age of 65.

Sir was a perfectionist with a singular sense of humour – a heady combination. He strove to teach the boys in his charge not to be satisfied with a shoddy effort, whether in the way they dressed, played games, delivered their speeches or presented their class work. The Tattoo was the manifestation of these traits of perfectionism and humour. We were never keen to have our exercise books given back to us, as all our blue-inked work would be covered under his red-inked corrections. Rarely did anyone get more than two marks out of five. However, we never wanted to miss his English classes. They were such fun. He had nicknames for all. For instance, Faroukh Mehta, who sneezed often, was called Mt. Fujiyama. There was the fantastic episode of Chandrakant Kotecha dozing in class. Sir mimed picking up a phone and dialing a number. Speaking into the imaginary receiver he said, “Wakey, wakey, Mr. Kotecha.” Chandrakant was quick. He picked up his imaginary phone, replied, “Wrong number” and banged down the instrument!

As House Master of the Seniors, Sir had such a far-reaching impact on all aspects of schooling that when all of a sudden Mr. Wynter Blyth passed away on his trip to Switzerland in the summer vacation of 1963, the school did not have to look beyond Peter Rogerson to take charge of the destiny of the Rajkumar College.

The School’s gain was the boys’ loss. The Senior boys of later years would never know what they had missed of the incomparable guidance of this benign House Master. I have no doubt he loved being with the young lads far more than rubbing shoulders with the elite and with demanding adults. He would, however, never run away from a challenge and for him the School’s need was greater than his own comfort and pleasure. He slipped into the new role with consummate ease and adorned the position for 28 years, becoming RkC’s longest-serving Principal (1963-1991) – a year longer than the school’s first Principal, Mr. Chester MacNaghten.

Mr. Rogerson’s inherent capacity to treat all with courtesy and respect stood him in great stead. ‘He walked with kings but never lost the common touch’. Everyone who met him even for a short while felt that he had acquired a life-long friend. He used the respectful term ‘Aap’ for the poorest of the poor – never ‘tu’ or ‘tum’. He was a benevolent master, very alive to the sensitivities of all he dealt with. He believed in exemplary conduct and logical persuasion rather than bombastic expletives. His method may have been slow but he paved a clear and happy path for all of us to follow with a song in our hearts. He gave a direction to the school that would stand the test of time.

One day in the very first year of my service at RkC,  I received his ever polite summons. He informed me that K.S. Pravinsinhji of Lathi, a highly revered member of the Governing Council and the then IGP of Maharashtra State, was to visit the school and he wanted me to escort him during his tour of the school. Then pointing to my ‘side burns’ (I wore them rather long, well below my ears in keeping with the fashion of those days) he said, “Ay-ay, are you very attached to those!” I said, “No, Sir, I shall shave them off immediately!”

Sometimes he expressed his disapproval humorously. There was this young member of the staff who had put on a ‘shirt’, which was really a net-like vest of synthetic material exposing his muscular body. Sir immediately remarked. “You look quite ventilated today, Mr. ______!” There was something unique about this man. He did not have to order; his expectations commanded obedience. We were expected to wear ties. I liked that and was particular about dressing correctly. However, there were times when in a hurry I would run off to work without a tie. Inevitably on such rare occasions I would run into Sir by mischance. He would say nothing though nothing escaped this sharply observant man. I would then fly back to my rooms, put on a tie and find an excuse to meet him within a short time, correctly attired.

Sir missed little. Once, I was rushing back to the Senior House after games to keep an eye on the senior boys at bath times. My sports colleagues chided me saying that Senior boys did not need supervision at bath times. My reply was simple. “I have learnt these matters from my House Master, Mr. Rogerson and I try to do what he did.” I soon learnt that this exchange and quite a few such conversations amongst the staff somehow reached his ears. He often complimented me on my responses in such interaction with staff.

I was blessed to have passed my most impressionable and susceptible years – from the age of 15 to 52 - under the benevolent and incomparable tutelage of this  quintessential   Guru. In fact I learnt from my mother that there was a year that my fees could not be paid and my name was cut off from the school roster, when Mr. Rogerson paid up the fees and I was taken back. There is no way to add up the benefits accrued by me out of this life long association. He taught me the essential lessons of life when  I was his student, carried on doing so  while  I was a member of the staff at RkC,  and believe me,  he still shows me the way from up there.

Mr. Rogerson earned the admiration of all who were directly or indirectly affected by his leadership; his work was acknowledged by national and international institutions. He was invited to become a member of The Indian National Trust of Art for Cultural Heritage (INTACH) and was elected Chairman of the All-India Public Schools’ Conference, to which he made splendid contributions. This legendary schoolmaster’s immense dedication to the field of Indian education was also recognised by Her Majesty, the Queen of England by conferring him with the Order of the British Empire. He modestly explained the OBE as ‘Old Boys’ Endeavour’! I have no doubt that he would have preferred a Padma Shri or Padma Bhushan award from the Indian Government to the honour bestowed on him by the British, but then he was never the kind to seek honours. I feel, we, his protégés (students and colleagues), fell short in presenting his case to those who mattered.

When I came across The Teacher’s ‘IF’, inspired by Rudyard Kipling’s IF, I felt that the poet R J Gale might have had an incarnation of Mr. Rogerson in mind as his model. Sir was all this and more:

THE TEACHER’S ‘IF’

If you can take your dreams into the classroom,

And always make them part of each day’s work –

If you face the countless petty problems

Nor turn from them nor ever try to shirk –

If you can live so that the child you work with

Deep in his heart knows you to be a man –

If you can take ‘I can’t’ from out his language

And put in place a vigorous ‘I can’

If you can take love with you to the classroom,

And yet on Firmness never shut the door –

If you can teach a child the love of Nature

So that he helps himself to all her store –

If you can teach him life is what we make it,

That he himself can be his only bar –

If you can tell him something of the heavens,

Or something of the wonder of a star –

If you, with simple bits of truth and honour,

His better self occasionally reach –

And yet not overdo nor have him dub you

As one who is inclined to ever preach –

If you impart to him a bit of liking

For all the wondrous things we find in print –

Yet have him understand that to be happy,

Play, exercise, fresh air he must not stint –

If you can give of all the best that’s in you,

And in the giving always happy be –

If you can find the good that’s hidden somewhere

Deep in the heart of every child you see –

If you can do all these things and all the others

That teachers everywhere do every day –

You are in the work that you were surely meant for;

Take hold of it! Know it’s your place and stay!

SIR KNEW - AND HE STAYED STEADFAST TO HIS LAST BREATH!

It was 30th March, 1991, a day before the farewell function for the final year boys. An Old Boy's Cultural Group Polyutune Orchestra was to perform after dinner on the 31st. While finalising the day’s programme with me and giving me instructions to check that everything was in order and spick and span, Sir asked me to keep a couple of boys ready to welcome the performers and deliver a vote of thanks, as he might not be able to attend. Placing his hand on his heart, he said, “Ay- ay, I am not concerned about this. But there are times when I get serious migraine attacks and at that time I blank out for a short while and can hardly function normally. It is best that I give this programme a miss.” Of course, I agreed but suggested that this matter of his absence from the gathering not be announced as it would put a damper on the occasion, and some other staff members may also absent themselves.

Next morning, 31st March - Easter Saturday, Sir summoned me again. (l have his last two notes of the 30th and 31st with me till today). He told me that he had decided to attend after all. He should be called when all had arrived on the lawns of the pavilion. He would sit on the steps and address the students and leave while they enjoyed their dinner. I was to call him again when the music performance was to begin for him to say a few words of welcome and gratitude to Chandrakant and his Orchestra. At 7 pm I sent a Prefect to let Sir know that we were ready for him. Within minutes I had a second thought. I rushed to the bungalow, telling myself that if I found Sir not looking well, I would stop him from coming over. I met his servant Babu, who told me that Sir was all ready and rather restless as he believed he was getting delayed by a visiting guest. I went back to await his arrival. Chandrakant later informed me that on their short walk to the pavilion Sir stopped for a couple of minutes pressing his chest with folded hands to subdue the pain. Well, he came, sat on the steps and began talking to the boys in his inimitable way. I was to stage ‘The Importance Being Ernest’ in a few days. He spoke to the boys of the importance of being earnest in life. Then he heard the rattle of plates being arranged on the dining table and said, “I must not delay you from ‘petpuja’ and now for my last words.” And he succumbed to a massive cardiac arrest. I was sitting within two feet of him, two steps below him. The mike fell with a bang at my feet. Mrs. Torry, the nurse, shoved a pencil between his teeth and pumped his chest. Dr. Poptani arrived within minutes from across the street, but the destined time could not be put off. Sat on the floor of the hall of the pavilion, Miss Cooper continued to resuscitate him until Mr.Vinod Thakkar with his hands on her shoulder restrained her. “He is no more, Ma’am.”

It was an unimaginable loss for the School and us, his children, and yet this was the best way for him to go – in the saddle. Kalu inna lillahe wa inna ilahe rajeoon (What was HIS, HE has taken back). -->


 * Search web on 100th anniversary... seems a lot needed from the UK as well