The Flag Flies High At Lady Ampthill"s

My father worked as a judicial officer and consequently , we had to stay at some of the remotest and quite non-decrepit villages for most of the time, as he got transferred or kicked from one end of the state to other like a football...Sometimes we would not stay even for the stipulated three years period and were told to pack up midterm ...If it was Alur in kurnool Dt for a while, then it would be Ongole for just 15 days and later Warangal in Telangana..(it was a town, god be praised)....And all this running hither and thither took it"s toll on my education...(my schooling, i should say...Education? ...sounds too intellectual)...Always an indifferent student, i acquired the reputation of a shirker and must admit never cared to study...To add to this, most of my schools were all small, government-run affairs..(there were no private schools).. and till i came to Lady Ampthill, i never sat on a proper bench and desk in a class.... That should speak for the state of affairs my schools were in...Even at Warangal, which WAS a decent town,my school was no exception...

So,, when my people decided to admit me into Lady Ampthill"s, at Bandar, in july, 1969, for my seventh standard, i was floored with joy...Hey..now i have a bench to sit on...a uniform to wear...Not only that..i now have the privilege to join the eminent establishment my aunts went to...sort of carrying on the family tradition y"know.:)...For, make no mistake...Though govt run, Lady Ampthill"s was a very prestigious school....about to celebrate it"s diamond jubilee soon,...one of the earliest girls"s schools in the district....at the time of my admission, still had a bevy of stalwart teachers,, though most of them were about to retire,..pucca qualified staff,.imparted quality education,and like all the girl"s schools, strict and very well run...

History says that the school was started by one Kumbhakonam Krishnamachary----previously head master of Hindu High school----in 1892,..mainly to facilitate girl"s education..which was big issue in those times.and was called jenda school....It was taken over by the government, in 1919 and became a higher secondary school..and the first batch of S.S.L.C passed out in 1922...It was made a junior college in 1969, the same year i got admitted into....The school runs classes from 1 st standard to tenth, and intermediate, and over the years, gives teaching training, and runs a lab technician course and D.Pharmacy too...

Earlier it was run in some hither thither places till 1930, when some of the buildings belonging to Noble college, which was practically a next door neighbour,were acquired and the school was shifted in there...My grand father, who was a student of Noble college, used to tell me that the main building used to serve as hostel and the lengthy building that ran across the land was the college principal"s living quarters in his time..

One thing that always tickled me was the school"s buildings..Set in almost ten acres of land ,it has a quaint sort of low lying independent out houses at all the perimeters of it"s area...The vast open space in the midst of all these buildings is bifurcated by another low-lying vertical building(or horizontal,..whichever way you would choose)...Old worldish and spartan, they were interesting to watch..

A two storied little building of granite, with a balustrade, officiated as the main building ..housing the Principal"s offices,botany lab,administrative offices at down stairs, and three class rooms upstairs...A big picture of an english woman with aristocratic features adorned the veranda....That is the Lady Ampthill, wife of the governor of composite state of Madras,...in whose honour the school was named after...The couple ,it was said, came down expressly to inaugurate the school buildings in 1930...

Life at Lady Ampthill"s had been rather leisurely...The school started at ten in the morning....So, no hurry, burry...You can have a sumptuous break-fast and take a stroll down, ..catching up with other friends...Almost all of us walked to the school...critically examining the rangolis at every door step and passing judgements...If it were sankranthi month, this took even more of our valued time...Then we had a daily march past for the assembly, where the head mistresses seized on the chance to speak at length daily over the same topics they spoke the day before..."Keep the school clean..".."Pay the exam fees.".."don"t loll around in the grounds"..."be silent"...

Lunch was at 1"o" clock and most of us just walked back home for it...After all...what are distances at Bandar?...Hardly one and half kilometer from home...Once or twice a week , we had music and dance classes...That always meant four or five interested girls jumped around and others took rest to watch them...There used to be weekly drill,..art and craft classes. where we were asked to stitch embroideries on a mat cloth.....and the inevitable independence day ,school day preparations..We used to have distinguished guests for our functions...I, my self saw Smt. Durgabai Desmukh paying a visit..P.V. Narasimha rao was stated to have been present on the occasion of starting the college...

The atmosphere was not too competitive....Nor was the school too strict over trivial ties that some mission schools seem to follow...No home works...No insistence on exact dress codes..As long as you turn up in green and white, it is o.k....Those were not really the times of intense, performance-oriented kind of academics ..Emphasis was more on good conduct and all-round development..:).whatever it is...After all, almost one thirds of us were not aspiring to be anything more than housewives...Those girls who pursued higher studies did it out of choice,and not because they were left with an only choice...Generally we rather enjoyed our stay there..I don"t know how the school is faring today in face of stiff competition from private schools but it makes me feel wistful.. "if only the govt cares for public education as it did before"..

In a way, the words of old Saraswathi teacher, aptly summed up the school in a nut-shell..though she spoke them for her self...On the eve of her retirement speech,the veteran telugu pundit thundered..." i have three students in every household of this Bandar,,,,oka amma, oka ammamma,...oka ammayi"...



I was pleasantly surprised and gratified to hear from one of the old boys of the school, through this blog.....Mr...Sarat Singamneni......He has many of his own hilarious anecdotes too, to say...and this one is on the big day......the opening of the junior college........And i am sure the readers will enjoy it...

"I do not really remember, if it was 69 or 70, (a bit of calculation would do, but I prefer to leave it like that) but I was in my fourth or fifth standard when that big function took place. They erected a big board with an electrically illuminated title such as "The Lady Ampthil Govt. Junior College", in as much as what I remember and the pressing of a button by the chief guest was to bring it to light, after the sun set. There was a lot of speculation over whether the thing would eventually work, and a lot of commotion when it finally worked, but that was the best they could think of, at a time, when most modern electronics developments were yet to come. We, boys, used to go all around the board as it was being built, but with stern instructions from one and all, as to go nowhere near it or in particular, behind it. We any way managed to sneak around and were surprised why was it really publicised as such a dangerous event to see just a multitude of dangling wires going all around, just behind the board.

Then, we were all put on a dance play choreographed around the Jai-Jawan and Jai-Kissan theme. Quite a few young girls (You may be one of them) danced in the centre as a column of Jawans and another of Kissans stood on either side. I opted for a Jawan when the choice was given, but the only one (vaguely remember as Venkanna) who could manage to get a real air-gun from his home was given the opportunity to be at the head of the column, a place, that was much dreamt of. Further, based on the importance each enjoyed, considering so many other factors, the other places were decided and as much as I remember, I could manage to be the third or the fourth of a total of six or so. Not a very disappointing achievement, but I clearly understood by then, that being recognised is a dreadful passion and that recognition comes by virtue of many things that are normally not in ones control.

Once the dance drama was over, we all played all around the campus in the darkness, which was quite exhilarating, considering that we never had and never would have an opportunity to look around the school campus after dark, an opportunity that made all other programs completely insignificant and non-existent, to all Jawans and Kissans alike. The grand old-styled main building looked even more mysterious and English-like, silhouetted against the dark skies. The huge red flower trees and the deodar tree that used to occupy the space between the main building and the small low-lying elementary class complex and the surrounding bush assumed the shape of dark and deep woods and the gloom was suggestive of being the home to unimaginable acts of wilderness, the most profound belief amongst us. The half round high-school complex with rooms dark from inside by then, looked neglected and forlorn with all attention diverted to the new born baby.

When the function was finally over, as the bold Jawans and proud Kissans were being gradually taken home by their respective parents, towards the end, I suddenly found that my father was nowhere and that I was perhaps left to go home all by myself, a thing that had not been done before. While the black colour mush and other make-up was gradually waning out under the sweat of the uncontrolled running and playing, even the spirit of a Jawan was rapidly fading out, with the thought of going home all alone in the darkness. The path was known, go out of the school, turn right, walk up to Ramanaidu pet centre, turn right and then walk up to that small lane, just before the Venkateswara Swami temple and then turn right, just after crossing Krishna Kottu. It was reasonable up to that point, as occasional rickshaw traffic could be a possibility and a couple of houses on the way, definitely had old women who almost lived most part of their lives hanging on the front gates and usually had nothing but to observe passers by and could come in handy, in case of any great difficulty. But once turned into the lane, it used to be totally dark, there were a couple of dogs, the most dreaded ones even during the day time, and on top of it, the huge tamarind tree, right behind the Sivalayam and a derelict house next to it, the most definite place for all those extra-human beings to permanently reside and being profusely active, mostly after dark, one of the issues to be most profoundly disputed latter by the learned Vavilala Siva Kumar, the Pandit of all of us in Batchupeta. Well, as the fears grew, the Jai Jawan went into tears first and then leaving all dignity aside, an uncontrolled weeping, drawing the attention of all those kind teachers and even the Principal (Dayamani?) and after a bit of comforting and probing, gradually discloses the problems due to which it would be difficult to go home, all alone. While it was a laughing matter for all the rest, went a bit confusing and a lot humiliating for the Jawan and in the meanwhile the father returns to collect the jawan, after leaving the others at home. After all, one can not take too many on one bicycle, the only device at hand, for the fastest and the safest transport and a perfect answer even to the problem of the most notorious dogs.

My father, mother and others have almost left Bandar, and are currently centred in and around Guntur. But, I still go there, whenever I visit India, and you know, most faces there seem to be very familiar, and most places have not changed much. Every corner brings memories of days that slipped by and thoughts of all those old friends, who would never come back. While unmanageable competition, global opportunities and consumer economy continue to transform Indian middle class family structure, most traditional Bandar lives seem to be dredging past, the same way as they used to be: Those sweets and masala makers, goldsmiths, handicrafts (kalankari) artists and most others commonly found making their lives on the streets still have the same Bandar, the open drainage canals that crisscross the town are still at work, draining the waste from somewhere to nowhere. Krishna kishore, Brundavan, Minerva etc might still be playing their roles in the lives of most classes, but with matinee idols changed from NTR and ANR to a vast multitude of mostly unbearable replacements."



Dr. Sarat Singamneni