My Word! (Meri Word)

It is a common misperception that, like me, if one went to a missionary school, it would necessarily be a convent school. In Calcutta, where I grew up, the next question invariably was “So, which Loreto do you go to?” I hated that question! When I was younger and more energetic, I took great pains to explain to a mildly surprised audience that I studied in a wonderful institution that was a methodist school. What’s more I told them not to ask me about nuns or sisters – because we had neither!

In Calcutta though, the Loreto story was hard to escape. There is, the Loreto House on Middleton Row – the mother of all Loretos. We admired it from the outside while hounding our favourite haunts in and around Park Street. All my men friends in college yearned to date the Loreto Middleton Row girls (school and college). They dragged us along to the tall gates to avoid being shooed away by the watchful watchman!

Loreto Dharamtalla was a stone’s throw away from my school. Loreto Bowbazar was practically next door to my house. Loreto Sealdah was where my brother started his schooling… till they figured out how nasty the little boys were to the little girls – at which point they stopped admitting little boys! Then there was Loreto Convent Road, Loreto Elliot Road and God knows how many more Loretos.

Finally, there were those hundreds and thousands of Loreto alumni who seemed to “network” all over the world when the term “social networking” was unheard of and the physical act of networking with friends and alumni was more difficult – without the help of email ids, the internet and cell phones.  Oh, of course I had to acknowledge the influence of Loreto even though I didn’t study there!

Roll forward to the present times in Delhi and all these memories rushed back to me today. My friend’s Class XI-going daughter, Diksha, called me up late last night. She had arrived from Calcutta on a school trip, tired but enthusiastic. Would I please please please please come to watch her perform in a street play first thing in the morning? At 8 a.m? The venue for the play, much to my relief, was not the street at all … but Loreto Convent School in the Delhi Cantonment area.

I am not particularly fond of leaving for work at 7 a.m any more. I muttered the usual excuses – late night, work, house guests, unknown part of Delhi etc etc. But finally my ego got the better of me. With so many pleases, I was … well, … pleased! Nobody had ever asked for my presence more sincerely and she is too young to pretend to want me there without meaning it! And she is too young to disappoint once I blurted out the “Yes”.

Luckily, the search for the school was short and simple, even though the banner of “Mary Ward 400 years” intrigued me. I have not stepped into a school in the last 28 years other than for my son’s PTA meetings – which were always rather tense and stressful. So it was with a slight feeling of anxiety that I stepped into the school, feeling like a fish out of water.

It turned out to be a very moving and rejuvenating three hours. It was not only Diksha’s school (Loreto House) performing a street play. It was an inter-Loreto event with 8 schools participating from Kolkata, Lucknow, Delhi and Shimla!

Naturally, some plays were better than others – but Diksha’s was easily one of the best since they were made to repeat their performance – as were the girls of Loreto Convent Lucknow. Apart from the expected show of talent, energy and commitment, what was striking was  some of the unexpected salient features across all the performances!

Diksha is kneeling second from the left

First, most of the plays were based on extremely relevant topics that are tough to perform (for school children) in just ten minutes. These ranged from protecting the girl child, untouchability and blind superstition all the way to terrorism and national unity. So, they did full justice to the spirit of nukkad natak.

Second, most of the plays were performed in Hindi - good, correct, shudh Hindi! I must explain this apparently odd statement in a country where Hindi is the national language. You see, when we were kids, we were not just discouraged but not “allowed” to speak in the vernacular at school – unless we were attending a vernacular class. As a result, national language or any other language, vernaculars were treated almost like “notional” languages in a typical English-medium missionary school in the 1960s and 1970s.

During Annual Day, therefore, when one solitary Hindi play had to be performed, one would barely find two and a half girls who could do justice to the play or the language! The average quality of spoken Hindi was nowhere as good as what I heard today - and remember, these kids were essentially putting up a performance for other kids – which means that the audience understood! We have come a long way because this fluency with Hindi cut across schools from all states! Hats off to Hindi’s climb in missionary schools!

Third, the young actors were at ease and enjoying themselves. They were not on any artificial “best behaviour”. There was use of slang in the plays and even a couple of four-letter words (only in Hindi, I figured out that it is more like two-letter words!!)… this was in the presence of all the students, the teachers and the sisters. Nobody winced or gasped! Remembering the Loreto of old, I was truly amazed!

Finally, the hospitality and snacks were outstanding. I was treated with great courtesy and warmth and escorted to the best seat – no doubt because of my shock of grey hair and my distinguished personality! Most people assumed that I was a teacher from another distant Loreto!

Diksha, thank you.  I am really enlightened and energised by the experience!

Oh and before I forget, Mary Ward was the lady born more than 400 years ago – who had the vision and courage to set up the Loreto institutions – technically part of an order called the IBVN (Institute of the Blessed Virgin Mary). Now, I agree that I am ignorant; but did you know that one?

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