Managing Committee 2016 - 17

Florilegium


An Ode to Our Alma Mater

Proud are we to be alumni of St Joseph’s,
And for this we are all thankful to the founding father St. Ignatius,
It is because of the Brothers and Fathers Jesuit,
Every alumnus is an outstanding graduate.

Many a student can wield a bat or a hockey stick,
And even bowl or kick a hat trick,
All the students are smart and fantastic,
Belong either to St Andrew’s, St David’s, St. George’s or St. Patrick’s.

On Museum Road is this great school,
Where every student and pupil as a rule,
Emerges as a person not only whole and full,
But also with an outlook ecumenical.

Hats off to the great teachers of this elite school,
Where every alumnus is not only unique and cool,
But also very faithful and fiercely loyal,
To its motto ‘Faith and Toil’.

An Ode to My First Teacher in My New School

My first teacher in my new school was Mrs. Lynette Lobo,
She was the aunt of my classmate Ricardo,
Thanks to her otherwise I may have become a bozo or hobo,
Or even a big zero.

She was kind and even keel,
And she knew how each boy did feel,
She knew it was no point being harsh or cold like steel,
Because she had sons of her own named Warren and Neil.

She knew that for each of us it was a difficult transition,
And therefore avoided being a strict disciplinarian,
She simply wanted us to enjoy our education,
Even if we were from backgrounds proletarian.

She taught at St. Joseph’s on Museum Road,
And made sure we did not overburden ourselves with a high load,
Thanks to her kind and gracious teaching style and mode,
We are all now following the high road.

An Ode to our Math Teacher

Our math teacher was the one and only Mr. Hartwell Yates,
We all wondered how mentally he solves and calculates,
To solving math problems he was true and passionate,
And to have him as a teacher we were indeed fortunate.

He would teach math with great vigor,
And in great detail and extraordinary rigor,
But up and down the long school corridor,
He would walk like an absent-minded professor.

While Swinging Clubs he made us all to co-ordinate,
And in geometry he taught us X and Y co-ordinates,
His voice and accent many a kid liked to imitate,
And his gentle personality impersonate.

With all the pupils he was a great hit,
Because of his mild manner and ready wit,
All the pupils were mesmerized by this teacher perfect,
Papa Yates is how we all referred to him with fondness and great respect.

An Ode to our Principal

Our principal was Fr. Hedwig,
He was the boss of school big-wigs,
He was the indeed the big chief,
And he certainly did tolerate the boys’ mischief.

Up went every school kid’s adrenaline,
When they saw the cane he used to discipline,
When the mischief-maker was caught, without a doubt he was toast,
And the parents were summoned for a solid roast.

He was an outstanding English teacher,
From him we learnt Norah Burke, Charles Dickens and William Shakespeare,
He made it very simple and easy,
For us to understand the meaning of concepts such as ‘Quality of Mercy’.

Thanks to Fr. Hedwig Da Costa,
The school coffers increased like a bonanza,
And the students better understand poetry, verse and stanza,
Only once you graduate the kids get to know that he is indeed a fine, fine fella.

An Ode to Our Geography Teacher

The name of our Geography teacher was Mr. Luke,
The fact that he was a great teacher was no fluke,
When provoked, his temper flared up like a nuke,
And he responded with a gruff rebuke.

He taught us figure running and latitude,
And also longitude,
When you did well he was reluctant to give you platitudes,
But he was not hesitant to slap your head when you had a bad attitude.

He felt that is important to know about stalagmites,
And stalactites,
About underground pillars made of calcite,
To be a complete Josephite.

He taught us about crescenticsand dunes and the Savanna,
And ox-bow lakes in Havana,
About the greatearthquakes in Lisbon, Tokyo and Yokohama,
Despite the fissures, faults and tremors we all respected Mr. Luke D’Souza.

An Ode to our High School Math and Physics Teacher

We had a high school teacher whose name was Mr. John Pinto,
Always immaculately dressed like the movie star Django,
When he shook his head, he moved his whole upper body,
The students nicknamed him Noddy.

He took fifty boys on excursion to the hills of Ooty and Chamundi,
To Madurai to see the Temple Meenaskhi,
To see the bison and elephants at the game sanctuary in Thekadi,
Breath taking was God’s Own Country.

We saw scenic rubber estates near Kottayam,
The capital Trivandrum and the beautiful beaches of Kovalam,
We saw the placid backwaters of Cochin,
And Vivekananda Memorial in Cape Comorin.

He taught us Physics and Maths,
And the importance of exploring new places and paths,
We are grateful to him for his energy unbounded,
To make us all rounded.

An Ode to our Chemistry and Biology Teacher

We had a teacher whose name was Mr. David Chatterjee,
He taught us high-school Chemistry,
And Biology,
Including Botany and Zoology.

When a mischievous student caused disarray,
He would express with dismay ‘I say’,
If the student was crass or behaved like an ass,
Red-faced, he would bellow ‘ I say, get out of my class’.

He was passionate about Chemistry,
And spent all day in the underground laboratory,
During his lectures he was full of energy,
And we all admired this prodigy.

We are grateful for him for laying the strong foundation,
For many an Old Boy to pursue the healing vocations,
Of clinical medicine,
Or that of a veterinarian.

An Ode to Our History Teacher

Our history teacher was Mr. Hanumantha Rao,
He chuckled when the mischievous boys tried to gherao,
He taught us about the rule of the Mughal kings Humayun and Zair-ud-din Babur,
And about greatness of Ashoka and Akbar.

He knew we were more interested in reading racy comics,
Rather than learning History or Civics,
He was a teacher who was easy going,
As a result he had a big following.

He also taught us Kannada,
But in the exam many of us still scored a big ‘nada’,
He walked up and down the school corridors and verandah,
Grinning affectionately like a giant panda.

He was fun-loving and jovial,
He even borrowed our comics and novels,
We are grateful to him because he taught us life lesson quintessential,
That from time-to-time it is important to lighten up a little.

An Ode to the Batch of 1975

Hail to the notorious batch of 1975,
It continues to be victorious and alive,
These laborious faithful old boys certainly know how to sing and jive,
Hail to the glorious batch of 1975 who assuredly know to win, succeed and thrive.

Many a teacher tried to tame these rowdy hooligans,
Despite the generous cane many remained as ruffians,
These villains caused so much botheration and aggravation,
That the Principal packed them off without a valedictory or graduation.

This infamous batch reputed for their disobedience,
Nonconformity and lack of adherence,
Today with great vigor and confidence,
Express to the school utmost loyalty and allegiance.

Reunited in 2015 for their anniversary and celebration,
They arrived from Atlanta, New Delhi, Goa, Dallas, Bangalore and London,
Kerala, Coorg, Columbus, Mangalore and Houston,
They sang and danced in jovial jubilation.

The feted their Principals Fr. Claude D'Souza,
And the one and only Fr. Hedwig Da Costa,
Honored their teachers Mr. Cliff Wilson and Mr. John Coutinho,
Mrs. Rosario and the super stylish Mr. John Pinto.

United was this batch in being defiant,
And disobedient,
Today they continue to enjoy a great camaraderie,
A distinction better than any praise or glory.

Chorus:
Hail to the notorious batch of 1975,
It continues to be victorious and alive,
These laborious faithful old boys certainly know how to sing and jive,
Hail to the glorious batch of 1975 who assuredly know to win, succeed and thrive.

Dr. Ragavendra R. Baliga
(Class of 1975)


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