THE BOYS' HOSTEL
One of the challenges for me, but also a delightful task, was of managing a boys’ hostel right next to my house. Though not very keen on discipline myself, I had to ensure a semblance of discipline among a bunch of boisterous boys, 15 of them, in the age group of 6 to 16 ! Most were either orphans or had lost a parent. All were from very poor families who stay and schooling was being supported. (Names of the children have been changed).
There was the rebel, Palanivel. A tough and muscular guy, he was a bully, deft with his fingers, rather adventurous, trouble maker at times, but always willing to put in as much physical labour as one would want. The guy had stamina. Thangaraj was a complete contrast. Tall and frail, oldest among the lot, he was mature, responsible, cared for the younger boys and was keen to take on teaching as a career. Muthu, whose father had abandoned his mother and the children, was an eternal cynic, partly from his background and partly because of his chronic asthama. His poor health meant that he always carried around medicines with him. Most of it was self medication though. He was an artist. The only thing that interested him was painting and crafts. He was nicknamed ‘Medicine’ by the boys because of the amount of medicines he took. But he was lazy to the core.
Karthikeyan, Joseph and Raman, all about 13, vied for my and Sandhya’s (my wife) attention, wanting to be allotted small errands to be in our good books, so that they could get away with a little bit of bullying the younger children and a little bit of defying ! Then there was Arunan, who was about 14. Strong and wiry like Palanivel, but quiet and responsible like Thangaraj. He was not into studies, but was a sincere student, keen to pursue vocational skills and support his family. The quietest of the lot though was 13-year old Sakthivel. Abandoned by his step mother after the death of his father and also by his own elder brother after he got married, Sakthivel had a severe physical handicap because of which he could not walk properly. The other kids called him ‘Dancer’, rather unkindly, but he never bothered about that. He had overcome several more adversities in his short life !
The youngest among them was Karthik and Murali, delightful 6 year olds who always fought with each other, would weep each time their mothers came to meet them and returned, would invariably get bullied by the older boys, have their special ration of boiled eggs snatched away, but were generally popular. Murali did not last there for long. After staying on for a year, he made two unsuccessful attempts to run away, but was always brought back. After his third attempt, he never returned. I think he had a rather interesting summer break when he made friends with some boys back home. We were told that he spent the entire summer vacation wandering with the other boys, bathing in the village pond, doing odd errands and making small money, which they then spent on movies in the local theatre. For some reason, he missed them terribly and his heart was not in the hostel. We missed him too.
Some of them are doing very well. Thangaraj had started working with RTU as a drawing teacher, even while I left RTU in 1993, after having completed his diploma and while continuing to pursue more academic pursuits. Meanwhile, he also arranged for a good match for his sister, whom he also supported with a vocational training course. Karthikeyan works in Tiruppur in one of the hosiery units. He once telephoned me, almost five years after I had last seen him in 1993. He said he was earning Rs. 4,000 a month and that he was also taking care of his widowed mother and his younger brother, who lived with him. He was keen that his younger brother got a proper education. I knew Karthikeyan had a good heart, even if he was a bully and a rather smooth operator, who was smart at breaking the hostel rules ! Arunan must have completed his polytechnic course. I used to meet him once a month when he came to our office to collect his monthly scholarship we had offered him for his course. He seemed to be doing well and I hope he is well employed now.
Karthik and Raman are in some odd occupations. I believe Raman is working in the same stationery shop in Madurai where his father worked. Well, he used to work there even in the summer vacations when he went back to his father, partly because his step mother didn’t want him around the house. I am not sure if he was able to continue with his studies. Karthik was a bright, lively kid, though he never did well in studies. I had hoped he would join some vocational training course on the campus, but then, he too left the campus to live with his widowed mother in Madurai for reasons I am not clear about. I heard that he was working in a cycle repair shop, something that I was not happy about. He could have done much better.
I have no news of Palanivel, except that he had fallen in love with a girl from his village and eventually got married to her. Muthu is married now and has a daughter. Sakthivel unfortunately committed suicide while in his early twenties due to huge debts that he had incurred, leading a directionless life, once he quit the hostel. It was also partly due to depression because his brother, the only relative with whom he had some contact, disowned him over a family dispute !
Being in close contact with these boys who came from very deprived backgrounds was indeed an unforgettable experience. Each one had a story to tell, often an unhappy one, which they often tried to forget while they were together, engaging in the daily routine of their studies, playing, keeping the hostel clean and a bit of gardening. A visit from one of their relatives, or a visit home would bring them back to the ‘real’ world that they eventually had to live in. Often I would see one of the children sitting in a dark, unlit corner of the verandah, reminiscing about something that he held dear, or worrying about something that they were not keen to share. Once in a while, they would come and talk to me, just to unburden and not looking for solutions. I am not in touch with most of them. Looking back, I just hope that the life in the hostel provided them with an environment that made them stronger, more determined to face the challenges of life, and prepare them for meeting these head on. What else could an institution do ?
One of the challenges for me, but also a delightful task, was of managing a boys’ hostel right next to my house. Though not very keen on discipline myself, I had to ensure a semblance of discipline among a bunch of boisterous boys, 15 of them, in the age group of 6 to 16 ! Most were either orphans or had lost a parent. All were from very poor families who stay and schooling was being supported. (Names of the children have been changed).
There was the rebel, Palanivel. A tough and muscular guy, he was a bully, deft with his fingers, rather adventurous, trouble maker at times, but always willing to put in as much physical labour as one would want. The guy had stamina. Thangaraj was a complete contrast. Tall and frail, oldest among the lot, he was mature, responsible, cared for the younger boys and was keen to take on teaching as a career. Muthu, whose father had abandoned his mother and the children, was an eternal cynic, partly from his background and partly because of his chronic asthama. His poor health meant that he always carried around medicines with him. Most of it was self medication though. He was an artist. The only thing that interested him was painting and crafts. He was nicknamed ‘Medicine’ by the boys because of the amount of medicines he took. But he was lazy to the core.
Karthikeyan, Joseph and Raman, all about 13, vied for my and Sandhya’s (my wife) attention, wanting to be allotted small errands to be in our good books, so that they could get away with a little bit of bullying the younger children and a little bit of defying ! Then there was Arunan, who was about 14. Strong and wiry like Palanivel, but quiet and responsible like Thangaraj. He was not into studies, but was a sincere student, keen to pursue vocational skills and support his family. The quietest of the lot though was 13-year old Sakthivel. Abandoned by his step mother after the death of his father and also by his own elder brother after he got married, Sakthivel had a severe physical handicap because of which he could not walk properly. The other kids called him ‘Dancer’, rather unkindly, but he never bothered about that. He had overcome several more adversities in his short life !
The youngest among them was Karthik and Murali, delightful 6 year olds who always fought with each other, would weep each time their mothers came to meet them and returned, would invariably get bullied by the older boys, have their special ration of boiled eggs snatched away, but were generally popular. Murali did not last there for long. After staying on for a year, he made two unsuccessful attempts to run away, but was always brought back. After his third attempt, he never returned. I think he had a rather interesting summer break when he made friends with some boys back home. We were told that he spent the entire summer vacation wandering with the other boys, bathing in the village pond, doing odd errands and making small money, which they then spent on movies in the local theatre. For some reason, he missed them terribly and his heart was not in the hostel. We missed him too.
Some of them are doing very well. Thangaraj had started working with RTU as a drawing teacher, even while I left RTU in 1993, after having completed his diploma and while continuing to pursue more academic pursuits. Meanwhile, he also arranged for a good match for his sister, whom he also supported with a vocational training course. Karthikeyan works in Tiruppur in one of the hosiery units. He once telephoned me, almost five years after I had last seen him in 1993. He said he was earning Rs. 4,000 a month and that he was also taking care of his widowed mother and his younger brother, who lived with him. He was keen that his younger brother got a proper education. I knew Karthikeyan had a good heart, even if he was a bully and a rather smooth operator, who was smart at breaking the hostel rules ! Arunan must have completed his polytechnic course. I used to meet him once a month when he came to our office to collect his monthly scholarship we had offered him for his course. He seemed to be doing well and I hope he is well employed now.
Karthik and Raman are in some odd occupations. I believe Raman is working in the same stationery shop in Madurai where his father worked. Well, he used to work there even in the summer vacations when he went back to his father, partly because his step mother didn’t want him around the house. I am not sure if he was able to continue with his studies. Karthik was a bright, lively kid, though he never did well in studies. I had hoped he would join some vocational training course on the campus, but then, he too left the campus to live with his widowed mother in Madurai for reasons I am not clear about. I heard that he was working in a cycle repair shop, something that I was not happy about. He could have done much better.
I have no news of Palanivel, except that he had fallen in love with a girl from his village and eventually got married to her. Muthu is married now and has a daughter. Sakthivel unfortunately committed suicide while in his early twenties due to huge debts that he had incurred, leading a directionless life, once he quit the hostel. It was also partly due to depression because his brother, the only relative with whom he had some contact, disowned him over a family dispute !
Being in close contact with these boys who came from very deprived backgrounds was indeed an unforgettable experience. Each one had a story to tell, often an unhappy one, which they often tried to forget while they were together, engaging in the daily routine of their studies, playing, keeping the hostel clean and a bit of gardening. A visit from one of their relatives, or a visit home would bring them back to the ‘real’ world that they eventually had to live in. Often I would see one of the children sitting in a dark, unlit corner of the verandah, reminiscing about something that he held dear, or worrying about something that they were not keen to share. Once in a while, they would come and talk to me, just to unburden and not looking for solutions. I am not in touch with most of them. Looking back, I just hope that the life in the hostel provided them with an environment that made them stronger, more determined to face the challenges of life, and prepare them for meeting these head on. What else could an institution do ?
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