It shaped our lives
My recollections of Model School go back over four decades - a time period over which the world has seen a dramatic degree of globalisation. But even back in the 1960s, the sheltered Model School taught us about the world we live in and there was a remarkable degree of openness among staff and students. Meenakshi Sundaram was selected to teach in the US, K. George won the national award for excellence. Achuthan Thampi, Sukumaran Nair, Harihara Iyyer, Prabhakaran Thampi, Sridharan Pillai, Madhavan Pillai were examples in projecting a view of the world. All had colourful pet names which I’ll skip in the interest of brevity.
Over those years, Model School graduates - from S. Krishna Kumar and G. Venugopal to Venu Nagavalli to M.P. Appan - went far and wide and Kerala became one of the most known places on this planet.
Now a few things that were unique to Model School. Few other schools would have a full-fledged carpentry workshop or an art program and a science club, each attuned to the student’s strengths. The other specialty was the link to the Training College for which we were guinea pigs and which enriched our education all the way. The connection to the Training College was special as my father was Principal of the Thiruvalla Training College, mother Professor at Women’s College and sister student of medicine in those days.
We also had quite unusual desks and blackboards that went up and down. The duties of the monitors (keep people quiet) and the election campaigns were unique. There were the drill shed and drill master - and the ‘manal puram’. We played soccer with tennis balls, and went to Thycaud ‘mydanam’ for bigger events. ‘Konnikkali’ and ‘robber and police’ were irresistible. And then this.
No other school had a drum rather than a bell to announce the beginning and end of class periods.
Finally, we can’t forget the school’s academic achievements.
The school’s set-up seemed to naturally bring out excellence.
Schools shape our lives. We are thankful that it was Model School that shaped ours.
There was no student politics then
“I spent two years at the Model School. I joined in June 1968 in standard IX (F) when my father, a judicial officer, was transferred to Thiruvananthapuram from Kollam. I left the school in March 1970 after SSLC.
I remember my first day at the school when I entered the redoubtable red brick portals with great trepidation as they were rumoured to house the best students in the state. My nervousness increased many fold when our class teacher, the late Ramasubramania Iyer, picked on me to analyse a rare grammatical feature in our English class. I remember with pride that I got it right!
Yes, the school did have the finest bunch of learners that I have come across anywhere and our SSLC results next year clearly buttressed the fact - all pass with almost everyone getting a first class (in those days first class was not as common as today).
Many compatriots leap to my mind - S. Kumar and Ram Manohar, both ranked in the first three in the state, Kris Gopalakrishan and many others. I recall brilliant lectures, intense cricket during lunch hour and reading, open-mouthed, reports of Neil Armstrong landing on moon.
I remember many teachers who played a large role in my life. Cruelly, we use to assign nicknames to them. As they were mostly based on physical features, these were very often le mot juste, although extremely unkind.
Headmaster was the redoubtable Aravindakshan Sir, who frightened everyone with his handlebar moustache and ready recourse to the ‘chooral’. Several years later when I was posted as District Collector, Malappuram, Sir worked under me as Deputy Director of Education.
Those were heady days of personal development, teamwork and a remarkable bonding with one’s teachers. And there was no student politics to distract us.
I won the best actor prize in Class VI
I had no idea about what the future held. I did not know what course my life would take. For that matter, I don’t claim that I know it even now.
Since I have not done much in the academic world, my memories naturally fly back first to that stage in the ‘Assembly Bungalow’. It was there, as a Class VI student, that I won the best actor prize for my role of a 90-year-old man in Veloor Krishnankutty’s play - ‘Computer Boy’.
The best actor prize was the monopoly of Class X students till then.
‘Computer Boy’ was directed by Maniyan Pilla Raju, who had by then passed out along with my brother (the late Pyarelal). Even without me knowing it, destiny was shaping my life. I won the best actor prize again as a Class X student for my role in ‘Kayakalpam’. The stage is still the same, the Assembly hall is still the same.
That was not the end of the recognitions that the Model School campus would bless me with. ‘Kireedom’, shot partly on the school campus, got me my first national award. I kept returning to the campus for shooting there and in the adjoining Arts College. However, each time the campus was getting more and more cluttered, one could feel claustrophobic, for want of space.
The nearby Residency was a forbidden place, but the kids found fascination in trespassing on and playing there! Even the Chenkalchoola colony has changed so much. There was this shop of Mony and a number of little restaurants which have all been encroached upon by the fast track of development.
The campus surely is blessed. Most of the students have made it big in life.
I still have a regret though! Had it been a mixed school, our thoughts and views might have been very different.
The school moulded the artist in me
“It was Model School that moulded by character and the artist in me. I studied there from Class I to X. After passing out in the early 70s, I joined the Arts College nearby. So, the school and its premises were a part of me for some 15 years. About the LP classes, I remember the music classes of Thankamma Teacher. As I entered UP classes, I made it a point to take part in all the competitions. I would like to share a folk dance song, “Vinodangalil Ennum Kalaruka Nammal, Solomon had a 1,000 wives and that is the reason why he used to pick the morning train and bid them all goodbye.’’
The school had so many creative and artistic talents that the drama competitions used to run for two days at the drill shed.
When I was in Class VII, we staged the play ‘Bhashavaividhyam’ which was about four people - each speaking a different language - meeting at a railway station. The play was very much appreciated. I even started getting a feeling that I was a good actor!
So, next time I took up a serious play and was rejected outright. I did not give up. Jiji Thomson IAS and his friend had got their play selected and so I requested them to give me a small role! They agreed. I was lucky enough to get a role in the play ‘Lahari’ which was staged by the alumni of the school, when I was in Class VII.
Monoact, group song, light music, recitation, elocution - I did not miss any item. Well, I never got a prize for light music, because the school had a lot of excellent singers. I even sang the Hindi song ‘Josh-e-Jawani’ from Raj Kapoor’s ‘Around the world’ for the light music competition. The teachers should be given credit for the opportunities we all had.
Unlike the freak out characters I play in movies, I was a very good student in the school. It was mainly because my father was a headmaster and so I made it a point to be a decent student. I was good at studies also. The school gave me the platform to show my talents and that got carried over to my days at Arts College. I’m indebted to the school for that. The school is truly a model for other institutions and it will never lose its grandeur, I am sure.’’