
Another great Old Cottonian lost
HS Atwal 1961 BCS Batch, House Captain Lefroy
Video and photo downloaded from Badal Singh’s facebook post:
HS Atwal 1961 BCS Batch, House Captain Lefroy
Video and photo downloaded from Badal Singh’s facebook post:
Global Warming – The New Yorker
Dear Ma’am / Sir,
Greetings from Karlstad Sweden
A scantily few probably get to read your wonderful paper rag; I am ashirwaded* to read it as an attachment.With Europe going through an unimaginable heatwave with two jet streams having locked in the hot hot air or should I say 🐉 dragon’s fiery breath; it is time to dictate a few simple lines about this GW or Dharti-Garmi** not with technically obscene jargon only those fat assed decision making people sitting on their asses having breakfasted with sausage beans croissants dollops of butter and thick cut marmalade at the Breakfast Restaurant of The Waldorf, The Ritz or The Imperial Hotel, feign to understand and then put the hammer at another jostle meeting at another exotic locale flying first class.
Neither am I implying the Greenies coming out of the woodwork after Woodstock, Isle of Wight, Sundance, Stonehenge barefoot in their Khadi wearalls on the other end of the prism are doing an extreme job trying to sing to the trees, the grass and pray to the rain gods so rivers will again gush with passion and ice reappears on the glaciers and Mount Everest. There object is fierce and passionate.
.. all I am saying is the heatwaves have one one root cause.. the overpopulation that continues…
Factories would spill the soot only from Monday to Friday 0900 to 1700 if there were less of us hungry humans wanting to eat drink drive crawl and marry their mobiles which we all have done..
I mean how can we possibly listen to another human being as he lectures on the good the bad and the ugly as we silently secretly shamefully remove the bulge of the mobile from our pockets and start communicating with someone outside the room, many a million miles away ending with 😘❤️😀🙏🥵🌹👍? We have no real friends any more; the large global corporates are our superficial friends, they are our Mums & Dads who don’t look after your money but find ways and means to scalp you and drain you completely..
Sorry Chapess and Chaps making an example of getting on a rowing boat from Land’s End to New York or getting on a train to kill the plane is a sidewinder poor example. Walking is much better, healthier like on the Camino to Santiago de Compostela..
Being a Sea Captain and hauling my cargoes across the oceans with utmost care and still being penalised saving my ship and lives after a hammering hurricane because “Captain we wish to see the oil record to calculate if you cheated with the quantities of oil… and sorry we cannot contact the owners because they are sitting on their fat assess having breakfast“ I realised too soon…there are those who belch burp and fart and there are us .. scapegoats.
Someone has to take the fall for GW…
Bonnie Bhasin
(the other day, some wierdo asked me as to why I was wearing white pants whilst everyone else was in shorts and shitty rubber slippers ….)Did the Lone Ranger riding on Silver wear shorts in the hot deserts of Colorado, New Mexico, Arizona and Utah..?
*ashirwaded : Blessed
*Garam Dharti : Global Warming
—Kindest Regards and Best Wishes,
Bonnie/Vivek Bhasin
Dear OC,
Trust all of you are doing well.
We at OCA,India have received a communication from Mr.Simon Weale,Director,Bishop Cotton School requesting OCA, India to kindly come forward and help Mr. Rajiv Mehrotra,the Bursar at Bishop Cotton School.
Mr.Mehrotra has been diagnosed with Cancer the treatment for which is expected to cost approximately 40 lacs.This is creating an immense amount of financial stress on him, and as such he would end up exhausting his life savings. May I request you on behalf of the President and the Executive Committee of OCA,India to kindly make a generous contribution to help Mr. Mehrotra overcome this financial challenge.
Kindly make your deposit into the following account:
Old Cottonians Association India
HDFC Bank
Account No:SB-Institution-00921450000562
RTGS/NEFT IFSC:HDFC000092
Greatful if after making the deposit you could kindly intimate OC Dhiraj Berry,Treasurer,OCA,India by sending him a copy of the deposit slip at dhirajberry@gmail.com You can also avail income tax rebate under section 80 G of the Income Tax Act.
Thanking you in advance for your help and assistance. Wishing you a great week ahead.
Regards,
Ajay Thiara
Secretary OCA,India
Some OCs have consented to have their messages posted verbatim. These are being added below. The other messages remain unpublished – We respect the privacy and uphold confidentiality if so requested by any OC. Though they all reflect similar thoughts as are being quoted below.
In my opinion such costs should come from the group insurance that BCS should have in place for all BCS staff, or should be met from BCS funds.
BCS being predominantly responsible to have such measures in place for the welfare and wellbeing of its employees / staff.
Sincerely
Anil Advani [BCS 1960-70]
The financial crisis confronting a school teacher is not new. In the case of a teacher in service, the plight is “less” severe since there are colleagues and senior employees who will be sympathetic to his cause. They know him and this is just what has happened with the Director seeking funds from the Old Boys association.
Going back further, I recall Mr Roshan Lal, the former Hindi teacher at an OC lunch, literally hands outstretched, seeking any kind of relief. None was rendered. Besides, Hindi teaching ranked so much lower in “class” both with the boys, even his students, and his former peers. It was a pathetic sight. Some years later his condition and his poverty became so severe that pity finally overtook some students who built a shelter for him and provided for his mentally challenged son. The man and his son died under conditions that are indescribable. We showed no humanity.
About three years ago, I requested the OCA President for assistance for an OC in distress. The response was in all such cases the class to which the OC belonged should do crowd funding themselves since this is what the class of 1962 did for Umesh Dutta, one of their colleagues. I reminded him that the fund had been initiated by me and I had contributed as well though I passed out in the following year of 1963. The OCA did nothing
So, the OCA is not exactly sympathetic to either members of its association or giving and generous to staff members. The exception was Mrs Kabir Mustafi’s wife where the students who knew them gathered to collect funds and garnered a considerable amount even though most knew her condition to be a hopeless one.
In the case of an existing employee, he should, you rightly observe, be covered by a medical insurance scheme. That would operate to assist in just such a case without any burden or obligation on anyone else.
Secondly, the need for a benevolent fund has been raised ever so often both for the staff and former students, it is for the OCA to take this initiative. I have tried hard but got nowhere for a variety of reasons.
Finally, the OCA has forwarded funds to the School and it is important that purpose and utility of such amounts stand allocated to causes such as this one. We did that so well for Mrs DeMello, if you recall.
Given the above, I am not sure that there will be many willing to contribute unless they are or were his students but to send the hat around again and again is an effort with diminishing returns. We need a proper fund in place with its scope, purpose and method of collection and disbursement well established.
Warmly
Vijay Khurana
The Cottonian Pilgrim
Humbled.. The Evening I was brought down to my knees ( The Camino Portuguese) May 14th 2022
…the day was excruciatingly hot ..40C
I had so far walked 375 km and was struggling to get into the next town Lourosa ( Portugal)
My camino gear was very unconventional; no rain gear, no dark dreary clothes… over the last years my trademark, my standard was slim red cotton jeans, a coloured check shirt with a bandana, long flowing cotton scarf and on top of this an army green jacket with a host of pockets that had my water bottle, almonds, an apple and an orange, two energy bars , a few boiled sweets, my passport, my pilgrims passport, my mobile phone and my stash of doe concealed in small numbers within the various hidden pockets. I always donned my camino hat, oversize to protect against the raging sun, in the evening my Old Cottonian Cap, my shoes too were oversize trail runners with gore tex, not hiking boots. And my shock absorber walking sticks with the faded line “These sticks have walked over mountains valleys rivers hard asphalt and more…”..and the sweltering heat…terribly unbearable but I just kept on .. pressing on with my backpack pushing down. I was losing excessive salt, every drag of a step increased my tired quotient, every sluggish step added more weight on my back and soon it felt like a solid brick of iron weighing 10 kilos..yet i pressed on ..it was dead slow ahead or as a senior German asked me what KSO meant … Keep Straight On ..
.. But i needed to get from Oliveira de Azmeis to Lourosa a blistering 24 km walk to the local Fire Brigade station; the operator on duty that early morning assured me I would get a bed for the night ..she spoke in Portuguese and I Spanish and the connection was clear audible, well understood.. and I smiled proud I could comprende Portuguese …her name was Marian.
Now I was struggling with the sun in its zenith and layers and waves of dragon heat.. this section of the camino was pure asphalt and super highways with long trailers hurtling down towards me; it was safer for me to meet these beasts head on, eyeballing the driver to swerve away rather than a beast of metal come hurtling towards me from behind .. at least facing these gigantic roaring machines I had a chance of maintaining a somewhat safe distance but the incredible jet stream these metallic monsters churned up frighteningly driving past was so deadly, they either sucked you into the whirling tunnel of a swooshing air tunnel or flung you away on to the hard shoulder; I was lucky and got away walking firm with my head down, my eyes shut and my hat protecting me from shooting stones ricocheting from their ten axle howling tyres that could shatter windscreens and pulverise your face at 120 km an hour … Peligroso ! Cuidado Peregrino… Dangerous! Be Careful Pilgrim..
…and I kept at it..….around 1700 hrs I touched the outskirts of Lourosa a nondescript town that had nothing to write home about .. a plaza, a Lidl supermarket, a farmacia and the local fire brigade station. And my head was hammering, I was nearing an ugly cough and had a deadly suspicion I may be approaching the “ C – factor “or was it heat stroke ..?
The Bombeiros Voluntarios, The Fire Brigade Volunteers in Portugal are both firefighting-cum-paramedic girls and boys who also work the ambulance service. Lourosa FF jurisdiction covered an area of over 100 square kilometres.
The last few metres the last few steps to the destination are the toughest.. tired exhausted and hungry I staggered in to the 24 hr control room of the Fire Station… it felt good as I threw down my backpack, my jacket, my sticks and slumped on a chair…
Marian was still on duty though soon end of her watch in the next fifteen minutes. She remembered my name, the interchange and then.. .. she again spoke in Portuguese and I in Spanish and the more I thought I understood her the more I had misunderstood her …I had not understood a word.. nada .. nada..
she kept shaking her head in the negative ..! She kept saying ..no no no and I kept questioning que que que ( what ?). Soy el Peregrino recuerdo ? I am that pilgrim remember? Si Si yes she said but again no no no ..
I mean like what’s happening here ??
It took coaxing pleading and more before the final truth dawned upon me… with final comprehension ..
“ what I said to you” she said “was we have no beds.. you can take a shower wash your clothes and leave ..”☹️☹️Good Holy Grief bordering on 😖irritation bordering on near exploding anger😡…24 km I had trudged with an assurance of a bed and lo and behold i was totally wrong .. Portuguese Spanish audible, comprendo .. and all that crap .. I was one sour unhappy pilgrim and definitively not one happy Cottonian..After ranting and pleading my sorry exhausted state Marian giving me a hard piercing look beckoned me to follow her to the first floor…I did like a timid tired lamb… climbing those painful steps we arrived at the upper landing and with a key unlocked a door opening on to a gym used by the team.. it was bare with a very hard wooden floor.. pointing to one corner and then she indicated if i was agreeable… “‘the floor is yours” and she left me as I stood in confused shock .. no sleeping bag, no underlay but only my backpack and the stuff I wore …
What a letdown….from flying business class with upgrades to first round the world, sleeping on hästen mattresses and Canada goose feather sumptuous pillows, pure white Egyptian cotton sheets I had arrived at the end of the line; a hard pit stop as I sank to my knees, a voice whispered “be thankful for small mercies”… I had no choice, no alternate plan no diversion.. there were no Albergues around; Porto was another 26km and in my pathetic state it would take me until midnight at the least to get there…
Just as I decided and knew I had no choice I saw the common room adjacent to the gym.. and smiled .. for there waiting for me, for this pathetic pilgrim was in one corner a really massive expansive super comfy looking three seater sofa ! I chuckled with delight.. dreaming with my eyes opened I could see me sprawled across on this bed of luxury dreaming of everything wonderful except that hard wood floor of the gym. I walked to the room, checked it had no lock and thrilled to bits planned to sneak in at lights out and crash out…. “ don’t even think of it “ a voice stung behind me..! Turning around I saw Marian and a dude who spoke English with a yank accent…. “We have hard rules in this place “ he continued … “ pilgrims can arrive to rest, shower and wash; sleeping on the sofa is strictly prohibited. We have a standby force 24/7; if anyone sees you flaking out on that sofa you will be kicked out of the premises immediately..”
That was it; ashamed of my scheming plan i fell on my knees..truly humbled..
Bonnie ( Vivek) Bhasin
The Cottonian Pilgrim
On the camino Portuguese to Santiago de Compostela..
I made it to Porto the following afternoon as I got out of the Fire Station with a hurting back, a stiff neck at 0400 “ truly humbled …”
05 July 2022.The Gals and Boys of the Portuguese Bombeiros Voluntarios.
My slept corner in the Gym
una experiencia humillante