THE CUSTOM - SHIRT FOR NEW YEAR

THE CUSTOM – Shirt for New Year

It was a day of great joy for all the boys in the school. It was the last day of the academic year. One last examination paper remained to be answered. And that would be all. It was a half-day session.

The previous night all the boarders would pack their suitcases ready to load them the next afternoon straight on the bus. As the last paper was answered, which would always invariably be “Religion”, there were wide smiles on all the students' faces.

The buses were slowly climbing up the hill to take the boarding students home for their summer holidays. These transport buses were especially hired to take them to their respective home districts in Goa. The engines of the buses laboured very hard to climb the slopes of the spiral road up the hill. They could be heard right up in the classrooms just below the chapel.

Felicio was a dayscholar. He did not have any packing to do or a bus to board. He lived in Guirim. He had just to walk home two miles away.

Felicio wrote the last few lines on his answer paper. He had almost finished writing his paper when, as he glanced towards the side doors the school clerk walked into the class. The clerk then turned towards him and whispered in his ear: “The Principal would like to see you after the exam is over”. “Alright, Sir,” Felicio replied.

The clerk walked away and Felicio wondered: Why would the principal want to see him? He was worried. He could almost hear his heart beating faster. He could hardly hold his hand steady as he wrote the last line. Suddenly, he seemed to have lost his smile. Did he do anything wrong? Would he be punished? Did he fare badly in the subjects that he had already answered? He had no idea.

He was also anxious to wish goodbye to fellow students and then head home. He wondered whether he could do that before meeting the Principal. Felicio was afraid that his class students might leave before he got back from the Principal's office. So he hastily said good-bye to all his friends wishing them happy holidays and ran up the several flights of steps to the Principal’s office on the top of the hill. He stopped suddenly a few feet from the door. Gasping for breath and trying to get back his composure, he tried to remain as calm as he could.“Hello there young lad, come in” the Principal said as they boy felt his knees tremble. “Here’s something for you.”

What is it? Is it a gift, Felicio wondered. “Take this, it is a gift from us” said the Principal. "Open it", he continued. His hand shaking, Felicio opened it unsteadily. There it was. He could not believe his eyes. It was a pair of shirts and short trousers that made part of the set of the school uniform for the new year.

“This is for you to use in the next academic year”, the Principal said. “Tell your mother that it is a gift from the Fathers and Brothers at Monte. I know that your mother works very hard. I know sometimes it is hard for her to pay your fees. It breaks my heart to see some boys being sent home at times on account of the delay in payment of school fees”. “Tell her not to have any uniforms tailored for you during the holidays for the next year.” “You have done quite well this year my boy.” "Keep on studying hard."

The young boy almost froze as he stood there in silence. Tears ran down his cheeks. He thought about his mother. She would be very happy to hear the news. He wanted to fly home if he could to tell her about what the Principal had said.

So, anxious as he was to get home, he thanked the Principal, shook hands and was ready to leave. “Don’t go”, he said, “here’s something especially for you from me. It is a water-colour box. I know you like to draw and paint. I am sure you will like it. Have a nice painting done during your holidays for me. It will look nice on that blank wall there in my office”, the Principal joked. The boy shook hands, almost genuflected and hurried down the slope clutching his prized possession, out of the courtyard of the Principal's office.

The boarding students were all ready to leave for home. There were a lot of buses, a lot of din; their drivers trying hard in negotiating to reverse and park on the steep slopes. There was hardly any place for them to make a turn and head back. Some big boys helped in placing bricks behind the tires - chocking them to prevent the huge buses from rolling back.

As the buses started to leave, some of the boys threw confetti, cut out of old exercise books, through the windows of the buses. Felicio was happy that the buses had not left yet so he could wave out to his friends. “Good-bye”, he shouted above the roar of the whirring engines. “Enjoy your holidays.” “See you in June, best of luck in the results of the finals", someone said behind him.

Was Felicio forgetting something? Of course he was. How could he forget. So then he ran to see the school clerk who had whispered the Principal’s message in his ear just a while ago. After he thanked and told him how frightened he was, the clerk told Felicio that he would like to share with him a little secret that it was customary for the school to present a set of school uniform to deserving students who worked hard and whose parents could barely afford their school expenses. He was touched by the clerk's message. He looked back as he walked out of his office, still dazed from what had transpired a little while ago.

Felicio started his journey home. He walked faster than usual on that hot April afternoon. It was quite a distance but on that day he felt that had walked much less than the actual two miles he did everyday along the winding path through the fields and villages. As he briefly stopped and turned to look at his alma mater high up on the hill behind him, he could still read the famous bold capital letters right across the façade: ST. ANTHONY'S HIGH SCHOOL. Above those letters on the left was the acronym A.D. and on the right was the year 1947. What a coincidence, and how lucky he was, he thought, that in fact his first name was Anthony and he was born in 1947. He paused for a moment, turned and started walking homeward again.

He jumped precisely on the laterite stepping stones across the shallow rivulet that he crossed everyday. Felicio's mother would be waiting for him to have lunch together that afternoon. She would probably cook something special today for sure, he mused to himself. He too would have his own special surprise for her. Would she cry like he did when he handed her the gift? Would she have tears of joy when he tells her what the Principal had said? All these thoughts raced quickly through his mind as he walked home. He tried to shield his face from the blinding glare of the mid-day afternoon sun with the palm of his hand. The hot earth pierced through the soles of his feet. In a short while he would be home. No more school for some time.

In the distance Felicio could see his mother, sitting outside on a low stool, in the shade of the guava tree at the back of his house, waiting for him. The boy wondered whether his mother would guess what the packet he was carrying in his hand contained. She probably would not, he thought. He walked slowly towards her holding the packet behind his back. He handed it to her and asked her to open it.

Felicio's mother opened it slowly and carefully, showing a big surprised look on her face. She could certainly not believe her eyes. She then said: “May God bless the Capuchin Friars of Monte de Guirim”. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she hugged and kissed her son.

And Felicio said to himself: “I knew my guess would be right! I was certain my mother would cry!”

She did cry. I know that for sure because I was there. She was my mother. I was that boy.

Excerpted from my book:
Goa - Memories of My Homeland
(Poems and Stories)
by Tony Felix (Felicio) Fernandes
Ex-student 1953-1964