Provy Days- Emergency and Leaving the Ivory Tower
It was towards the end
of June, the high winds and rains had started and I was in my second year in
college. My mother came back from Kerala full of righteous indignation. She
carried a copy of the Indian Express which had a blank space on Page 1, where
the editorial was to appear. Emergency had been declared. My father was shocked
as he had no inkling of it. The paper we read every day did not mention it at
all. This news made no sense to me, at all.
The next day in
college we were asked to assemble around the flag post. We sang the national
anthem, the flag was hoisted and the Principal, Sister Margaret Mary, spoke to
us. She said that we must pray for our country and that difficult days were
ahead. What she said didn't make much sense, either.
After a few months,
the nuns announced a retreat for which some girls were selected. I was one of
them and so were my cronies, Charlotte, Hema and Raj. We were very happy
because we were going miss some classes. The retreat was held at Lansdowne,
once the summer residence of the Raja of Bobbili.
The retreat was
nothing extraordinary, the usual life coaching stuff. After the first day’s
sessions, we watched the sunset over the mountains, at peace with the world.
Once night fell, a taxi drew up and two women got out. Soon we were all
summoned to the living room. I don’t know if the lights went off or if they
were switched off. Anyway, we waited in the dark; suddenly the door opened and
the two women entered the room.
The curtains were
drawn, a candle lit and they told us about what was happening in the world
outside. They spoke of the arrests of the opposition, the press censorship
and the total curbing of civil liberties. One of them pulled out a much folded
newspaper from her bag and showed us a small personal advertisement. We read it
by torch light. It said “D.E.M.O’Cracy beloved husband of T.Ruth, father
of L.I.Bertie, brother of Faith, Hope and Justice expired on 26 June.” This was a small ad which
appeared in the Bombay edition of the Times of India. It was all very exciting.
I was a little perturbed and wondered how long we could continue to live the
way we did. The women left immediately after that. I don’t know who those women
were and who brought them to Coonoor.
Anyway, whatever they
said seemed very far away, as if it was happening in another country. Nothing
disturbed the tranquility of the hills. There was dew on the lawns, the Nilgiri
thrush called and we read our books curled on comfortable sofas. The wind
whistled through the trees and the boys played cricket near the club. The
seasons changed and life went on.
A few months later, we
had two visitors from Madras Christian College, members of the Students
Federation of India. They had permission from the Principal to talk to us. And
speak they did. They were very rude and nasty. Little short of calling us
idiots, they said everything else. They said that we have to leave the ivory
tower and see what is happening around us. They spoke of how the world has
changed and so on and so forth. Maybe what they said was true but we were
all furious. They had given us a real shaking up.
We got angrier when we
found out they were Ooty boys. We also discovered it was not all altruism on
their part. Their ulterior motive was that they wanted to hang out in Provy but
that wish of theirs was soon crushed.
After elections were
announced and the news reports of the excesses of the Emergency started flowing
in, I was horrified. The climb down from the ivory tower was complete.
Good one that. Seems like there was much action in Provy. The nuns for all their 'cloistered' ways were quite worldly wise and 'with it'.
ReplyDeleteI think it was Sister Principal. She was an extraordinary woman..
ReplyDeleteSuch an idyllic portrait of the hills. Indian hill stations are unique entities.
ReplyDeleteThanks Vani... Coonoor was and still is to a great extent very different from other hill stations.
Delete