…Amigos, Familia y Hermanos de Bishop Cotton School, Simla y Nuestra Ecclesia…
There are friends,
who you befriend when the shyness overcomes; perhaps you encounter another person who too is shy and as you make that eye contact the vibrational link makes the connection. You slowly shuffle and slide, and approach one another. Standing side by side looking at Samson and Delilah at the National Gallery it is perhaps the best place to meet a shy person to befriend. It’s a quiet zone and all one needs is to appreciate the seductiveness of Delilah with her breast exposed leaving Samson in such a trance and stupor that wine and pleasures of the flesh make him buckle. All it took was for Delilah to shave his seven locks of hair and he was terribly weakened…the Philistines snared him… the powerfulness of the painting, the enormity of the room, the many visitors and yet there was a quiet stillness…Finally the two turned towards each other and stumbling with words, grammar and awkward movements acknowledged each other in whispers…the start of a Beautiful Friendship that never waned but constantly waxed.. Nos somos Amigos*
And there is family.
The young girl the only child in her family has enjoyed her kinder garden years and now steps into skirts, stockings, monk shoes. With her long pony tails she starts another journey of eleven years at a Boarding School. Her Father has chalked her life, her Mother more genteel but knowing there is no option after Oxford or Radcliffe and a MBA from Stockholm Business School she needs to work her way back to the country where the source of the Ganges, the confluence of many rivers, the Kumbh mela, a billion souls, the heat and the dust are part of the corporate world where she would start as an apprentice getting to know the ground reality before final lift off. She will at a certain point of time join as a Director on the Board of her father’s conglomerate, one day becoming the CEO. The relationship of Business may also mean a relationship of Business Matrimony to keep alive the name of her founding Great Great Grand Mother who started it all…from a small postal delivery service as back up to the Post Office, today the business is global and huge jets fly across the heavens their bellies packed with super expensive parcels that are guaranteed to arrive at Tierra Del Fuego, or Hammerfest or Cairn Island or Madagascar. Where at the end of the journey when the Jumbo Jet lands and the concrete runway ends, the lush tropical jungle emerges, her company has trained Chimpanzees to carry small packs on their backs swinging through trees and hopping over rocks in meandering brooks to reach Chieftain Zukalu Madunga; he has heard of Serrano ham from the Iberian Peninsula and is willing to pay by way of the rarest plants that are needed by the Chinese in Beijing. More than just aphrodisiacs but for a reversal of Alzheimer’s. The Young Girl now a Business Woman, a shrewd one at that controls the world of logistics. Alas, she has no real friends, mere acquaintances but sometimes it is family that sets the rules… You cannot breakaway when there is lineage to preserve…Mi familia sacrada**
And then there are You and I. Cottonians who lived, argued, competed, mugged, played, hiked, screamed and formed our cores at this greatest of institutions. Each a steadfast brick that dislodges itself from the main frame work of BCS (just as another younger brick lodges in to keep the institution erect and proud) and goes out into the world, sometimes as far as Quito in Ecuador. To face life’s challenges and duck against pelting rocks, analyzing, thinking intelligently and logically, finally striking back with our motto on our backs ‘Overcome Evil with Good’ knowing all along that a Cottonian will never ever forget his roots, his lineage, his teachers, his bearers and the sacred ground of Bishop Cotton School, up in the Greens of Simla. He will never forget those with him he spend over a decade of his life; how can he forget? It is the connection of souls at Bishop Cotton my true true friends that in many ways leaves everything else truly pedestrian. The Cedars around our school have seen all of us grow from young little men to big little men and men with courage and fortitude. Where ever a Cottonian may be on this planet of ours, he is protected by the School Chapel; wherever he may in the galaxy when departed his soul floats free over the Chapel, his dormitory, the First Flat, the Irwin Hall, The School Gate and then meanders down to Remove-Man does he enjoy the view from the top; his focus is on his School, its periphery, he glides like an albatross. Only we Cottonians can see him up there….
Next time you walk the sacred grounds of Bishop Cotton School, pause on the First Flat and look up towards the Heavens..You will see him! I have…a flutter and a cool rush of mountain air as he glides past and banking heavily stoops low to Salute You.
TRUE COTTONIANS. Mis hermanos de BCS y Nuestra Ecclesia***
*We are friends.
**My sacred family.
***My Brothers’ at BCS and our Chapel.
31 August 2016