A book club called Book Bound, in Bangalore

Book Bound @Debbie's splendid home on Rest House Road. Many years ago -- 9 to be exact, I started a book club in the Catholic Club Library. A book club called iBrowse, in Bangalore. The name was another story and why I began the book club also another! To answer the question why I began it? It was because we first started meeting in a coffee shop in Garuda Mall which was too noisy and not enjoyable. One meet and I decided let me ask the club since the Arch- Bishop had asked me to begin something cerebral rather than just the singing and dancing we christians are supposedly known for. So I went to a committee meeting and requested the then President Francisco Saldanha and the rest is history. I first began the club in the Library with probably just six people who had come and the book being read was Chetan Bhagats -- forget the book -- it was awful. But the club had no name, so I asked the members to give it a name. The name given by one reader was Browse and a younger IT person added the i and it became iBrowse. A name no one else can replicate!

Book Bound on my terrace Slowly the club grew in size and I asked for the Rain tree hall which was slightly bigger. 12 authors were given the platform each year and the years sped by with some coming all the way from the UK like Jenny Mallin with her six grandmothers cookery book, Kunal Basu from Oxford with Kalkutta, Manu Pillai the young historian with Ivory Thrones, a scholar from London and Wendell Rodrigues the famed designer with Poske among a host of Indian literary giants, as well as little known first debut authors like Ryan Lobo. What a pantheon of authors and we all enjoyed every single one in the book club, sharing with us about how wrote their books and what was their muse. But there is never paradise forever and iBrowse got taken over by a MIC after 8 long years, who wanted to turn it into a money making event. For me an academic, books can never be money spinning and I gracefully bowed out, leaving iBrowse to him and starting my own book clubs called Page Turners and Book Bound. Page Turners is held in a fancy Business Centre on Residency Road, handled by one of my students, which is posh.

Page Turners @ Kafnu Residency Road Book Bound was started in the restaurant Nossa Goa, which is defunct now, just to help increase the young restauranteur’s footfall. It was our old home and so my bond was strong and I wanted it to prosper. Sadly that was not to be. And before we had to shift again, as the old adage goes -- if one door closes another opens-- a beautiful designer door opened for me. An old school friend who remembered me from my athletic glory days in school, came suddenly back into my life. We schooled together in Jesus and Mary Convent New Delhi and her mother and my mother had worked together teaching in the same school. Both service kids,Debbie opened her home and heart out to Book Bound and we began to have meetings alongside her gorgeous swimming pool. Book lovers are on a level playing field. Wealth is unimportant, wealth of knowledge and the willingness to share, is.

Joshua Mathew and his book The Last Great White Hunter She also decided to give us dinner after the discussion which was not just simple goodies but bakes and wraps and burgers and dessert along with coffee’s and tea’s or a juice should you so desire. We had liveried service and valet parking in a white marble floor basement. It was a bit of a shock for us used to the one by two coffees offered in the CC. To be met with this largesse, there is definitely a God who is watching out for the book club and my dream.

Dinner spread by Debbie and Teji You can’t imagine the joy it gives me to host you all, she says, but we all do feel a bit awkward and have told her no, we can all share hosting it in each one’s homes. The next one is in my home but I refuse to keep up with the Joneses and it’s back to tea and biscuits for me. Like I said, we come for the books not the food, but who can say no to fish and tartar sauce when Debbie lays its out?

Gardening in the UK & the US

Cute 'faced pansies We grew up with gardens and a great love for plants. Infact my earliest memories are of myself as a three year old, laughing heartily while my Dad shook the face of a flowering Pansy in Delhi saying look, its laughing at you! Three and you can remember you might ask? But I do and I was three on our first posting to New Delhi and we lived in King George’s Mess. a service officers residential complex.And check out a pansy. It does have a very cute face.

Delicious long hybrid mulberries from Grandpas garden in Baroda Obviously a child learns from its parents through it’s growing years.My Grandfather in Baroda had a huge garden along the side of the bungalow and we could open the gate and go in there to eat as many mulberries as we wanted, provided we did pick some for my Grandmum to make jam. They were three inches long, a special variety said Grandpa Mick and he had got the plant from a nursery which only sold graft fruit trees.

The stunning Indian Laburnum in Grandpa's garden in Baroda He also had an absolutely stunning Golden Labrnum right near the front gate of the garden. When it flowered in the blistering heat of summer, it was the most beautiful sight to behold. Then what made it evilly beautiful was I read Georgette Heyers, “ My Cousin Rachel” from off his revolving book shelf, where I learned that Rachel poisoned her husband with the crushed seeds of the Laburnum. The long pods that hung from the tree rattled when shaken by us as children, but Grandpa was strict about us touching the pods or even going near the tree.

The spectacular Blue Wanda which Dad got from Bhutan In Bangalore my Paternal Grandpa was old by the time we were around, so did not come out much into the garden, but the memories of my father teaching us to repot the ferns or his immense love for orchids with a collection under the Mango tree, has always remained etched in memory. There were no maalis, we worked the garden ourselves. And when the Blue Vanda flowered Dad would phone us excitedly to come, visit and eat dosas as a celebration.

Picture of my Jacob's Coat flowering in Tennessee, sent by son! Now for me, gardening in the UK and the US is really pleasurable and we all feel sad that my father is no more to enjoy those gardens. The landscaped one in the UK especially would have brought out his enjoyment and excitement to the fore. My sons have imbibed his love for plants and trees and so I am given a free reign when I visit. There is nothing they will not indulge me with. Infact for my birthday which I spent in the US, my gift was a floribunda multicoloured rose called Jacobs Coat and it truly is a rose of many colours, which changes as it ages. As for the rose we bought and put down three years ago in my UK sons garden, gives us the most outstanding display of scented roses when I visit for the spring.

" Plate sized" rose in my sons garden in the UK! Fed quietly by me with all the waste milk and porridge of the grand babies! I get a roll of eyes and a quiet chuckle from my huge eldest or the athletic second son, when they hear of my shennanigans. The red fox will come at night and dig up the garden warns the UK son while the US one says Cayotes will arrive to do the same. No such thing happens.

The Golden yellow British Iris What thrills me is taking little plants to each of the gardens and seeing them thrive in a foreign environment. The British Iris grows enormous in Tennessee and flowers when its cold making the neighbours ask my son where he got it from! The Ginger Lilly which my mother loved grows well in Tennessee too and flowers now in the Autumn before dying back for the winter. The Curry Patta plants thrive in both places, growing happily in pots and take refuge indoors in the winter. But both sons don’t take too kindly when I pinch a few leaves for my cooking!

The scarlet Thunder lilly thrills This time the UK son was thrilled with a gift of Thunder lillies by his MIL when she was stripping her old home before selling it. We wonder if it will grow in the UK’s punishing winters, most likely it will thrive in balmy Tennessee. Thats my next project since the boys have grown seeing the thunder lillies bloom and grow year after year in the Hayes Road garden. That first clap of thunder and the first shower of rain broke the soil in that onebed, in the Hayes Road garden and out popped the bright scarlet flowers, which lasted for a month, bringing much joy to the house. We sadly don’t have any of those flowers any more in Hayes Road. All that is left are memories and the simple joys we had in a home, which was meant for enjoyment and not for cold cash.

Helping a deserving student, Bangalore, India

With the student pursuing his medicine in the UK over Christmas lunch in my sons home So here was I sitting in a grand cubicle as Assistant Editor of the Deccan Herald. Very few women make the grade and I was honoured with the position by the owners of the DH, after I completed my second Masters in Europe. The prestigious Erasmus Masters in Journalism which hardly any journalists across the world, win a full scholarship of 42,000 Euros! Yes, the mind boggles at the figure and the experience was life changing for me. I was catapulted into a different league and my thinking was changed forever, in the sublime atmosphere of European academic Universities. But soon I tired of being cooped up in a cubicle, albeit a fancy one, to sit and edit and over see the prestigious heart of the newspaper -- the Editorial and Opposite Editorial pages. I sat day after day editing terrible copy, written by people who really could not write and then give it to my juniors who made the page. Nothing challenging for my mind which had come back refreshed and renewed in Europe.

With one of the PG classes! So, I quit when I was offered to help start the Journalism and Communication department in St. Joseph’s College, Bangalore, by the then Principal Fr. Ambrose Pinto. Fr Ambrose used to send me analytical articles to publish in the DH and that’s where he felt my skills would be put to better use, with imparting what I learned in Europe, with our Indian media students. I never looked back. But I also never took a full time job after that one experience. Adjunct Professor was fine. And so my years at St. Joseph’s rolled along with my coming into contact with all types of students. Students who came from rich families, driven to college in fancy chauffeur driven cars, middle class kids who were there not out of interest but because their parents insisted. Non resident kids in the hostel and PG accommodation, who would sleep through class and were obviously into substance abuse. I reported them. But the last kind were the students who wanted to study and improve their lot and had no money to pay their fees. Those students shook me out of my comfortable existence. I had never faced what they had to in their young lives. So I decided I had to do something for them and looked carefully out at the 100 odd faces, I saw every single day.

Film making class In my second year there was a boy who would always help me set up the computer for my PPT’s with which I taught the class. Chetan ( name changed) never failed me and was always there with a laptop and he set it up and had it up and running as I walked in. One day I casually asked him about himself and was shocked to hear that his mother was a single home maker, bringing up two boys alone, after their father passed on. The father’s family agreed to pay for their food and lodging, but beyond that they had to fend for themselves. She was not educated and so could not get a job. He had to pay his final years fees in three days and was at his wits end as he had exhausted all avenues.

With the animation class. I immediately contacted the college Old Boy network and in an hour they gathered funds and agreed to pay his fee. I asked the college for a discount on a poor student and they generously agreed. But there was one particular rule I wanted enforced -- he repays once he is on his feet in installments. Chetan is doing well, has plans to leave for New Zealand to study further. He supports his mother and brother who are more stable now and it’s a good life for them at last. Another student seemed too academically bright to be in an animation or film making class. I called him up one day and he said he had got a seat in a medical college, but his parents were too old and too poor to pay the fees. Social media came to my aid and I asked for help for him. There were many takers and so I told him to get back and get himself a medical seat again. This time he got a seat in the UK, in Sheffield no less! But the takers said to my great shock, they would pay for medical studies in India not abroad.

The excitement of being in a selfie! I could not fail him, not after he had studied and got the second seat. So I went to a doctor friend in the UK, Trevor Viegas who already had his two daughters doing medicine. Generously, he did not refuse and said the boy needed help. A seat in Sheffield was an honour and he was willing to pay for his food and lodging. Then Anand’s whole village came out to pay for his air ticket to the UK. Anand ( name changed) waited at tables and did other menial jobs to support himself once he was in the UK. Then when I visited my son over Christmas, he spent a huge sum of money, ( 20 Pounds which was huge for him) to come and see me and touch my feet as he said. He told me how he had gone home and certified himself as a Yoga instructor and was running classes after college, charging 8 pounds an hour to support himself completely. He had also moved from Sheffield to Manchester, as the University was better there. He was right, as my older son was out of Manchester where he had done his MBA. It is ranked as the sixth top university in the UK. Then, Anand spent Christmas with us and it made me so proud and happy, to spend a few hours with him, chatting and eating a meal together.

Students never forget a teacher and get invited to all their weddings! But not all stories have happy endings. One student always missed class and looked sleepy and ill when he was in class. Both his parents were doctors in the Middle East and there was nothing they would deny their only child. But all was not right, the boy was into substance abuse and try as I might to send him to be dried out and cleaned up, he slipped and slipped again, till the college had to ask him to leave. I felt rotten that I was unable to help the boy, to help himself. Life as a professor has been enjoyable. Much more than if I was still with the newspaper. I don’t get paid as much obviously,but I do not have to stress about earning a livelihood, thanks to my parents largesse. So, as long as I can, I will keep helping students who need the help. And all of you reading this I advise you to do the same, as there is nothing more fulfilling than helping a child achieve his life’s ambitions.

We love coconuts in India

Coconut harvest being cleaned in our home @ Castle Street! Many decades ago I ordered two saplings, from a good friend who owned Deejays. A chicken hatchery which had branched out into speciality coconut saplings on their farm in Madurai.So two saplings were sent to our home on Castle Street and I paid the princely sum of Rs 10 per sapling. Then along with my two older sons, we planted them in the tiny patch of land we had behind the house. Between us we dug the three feet deep holes and after collecting two sacks of compost from my Dads home on Hayes Road, we put the saplings down. It was the boys job to water them, every single day after school. The saplings grew and prospered and in a years time threw sprays of flowers that turned into coconuts. We were thrilled to see the plants grow so well and in a few years we were harvesting our own, special breed fruit.

Delicious in everything from sweets to curries. The coconut tree is a member of the palm tree family and the only known living species of the genus Cocos. The term "coconut" can refer to the whole coconut palm, the seed, or the fruit, which botanically is a drupe, not a nut. Botanically speaking, a coconut is a fibrous one-seeded drupe, also known as a dry drupe. However, when using loose definitions, the coconut can be all three: a fruit, a nut, and a seed, says Wiki. So what does the meat of the coconut contain? Here are some interesting facts” Energy: 354 Calories (per 100 g) Protein: 3.33 g (per 100 g) Fat: 33.49 g (per 100 g) Potassium: 356 mg (per 100 g) Scientific name: Cocos nucifera It was only when the "coco" came to England, the suffix of nut was added and that's how the name came about.

Coconut harvest in our home on Castle Street! The quantity of nuts that were harvested by us twice a year was mind boggling and besides gifting them to friends and neighbours, we sold them to Fatima. The bakery outlet who grabbed all the nuts he could get, as he swore they made the most delicious coconut sweet.Now even the Catholic Club wants to buy them all because they are organic and excellent quality for their curries and chutnies. Typically the green outer husk coconuts with a gelatinous inner meat, the water of the young coconut is especially prized. Fresh coconut meat is also said to have healing properties because it is high in antioxidants. Also, the fat in coconuts is medium-chain fatty acids that are better absorbed than animal saturated fat and is said to have anti-inflammatory effects. Fresh coconut meat is definitely a great superfood to add to your diet!

Try fresh coconut milk with green masala! My mother's favourite. It's one of those foods that's so often demonized by calorie and fat counters for it's saturated fat content. But, a growing body of evidence indicates that coconuts may actually help with weight loss. Thats great news as I am a big fan of coconut.

A heap of nuts that brings so much joy to chefs! It is also safe if eaten in food in regular amounts. But apparently, coconut oil contains a type of fat that can increase cholesterol levels. So people should avoid eating coconut oil in excess. Taking coconut oil in doses of 10 mL two or three times daily for up to 12 weeks seems to be safe.Something I stopped after the second dose, but I was advised by the Deejay owner himself, that coconut oil is good for diabetics. I would rather exercise than swallow oil. AND the nicest part of a large harvest is I can give friends and neighbours the excess and watch them smile in thanks from ear to ear!

New genre of books which become judge and jury

New genre of books which become judge and jury

A Book Bound event. I run a book club called Book Bound. We are a bunch of 30 true readers who moved away from the Catholic Club as the new member in charge wanted to run the club evening like an event, rather than an interaction between book lovers. That was fine, it did not fit into my concept of a book club and after starting it almost eight years ago, I left the club to the new member incharge without any acrimony. “ You should have shut if down, it was your baby, you started it,” cried all my loyal book reader members.

Sharing a book read for the month by a member. “ Why? There is no need, I can always start another one and I did, not one but two! Book Bound and Page Turners!” My father always said what you can do, no one else can, believe in yourself and I follow his advice in all I attempt. He is always there shielding my back, though long gone.

Meetings once a month in either my home or one of the members. I digress! So, at Book Bound we have found a new genre of books - books that come out as judge and jury in famous murder cases. The case has not been tried yet and still in the courts and authors have written books with their opinion across the pages. Investigative journalists no less and their books are snapped up by readers across the globe.

Aarushi book cover. The first book I read and did in my class several years ago, was the Aarushi murder case. It was done by a local Delhi investigative journalist Avirook Sen. It was about the murders that gripped the nation. Seven years ago a teenage girl, Aarushi Talwar, was found murdered in her bedroom in Noida, a middle-class suburb of Delhi. The body of the prime suspect, the family servant, Hemraj, was discovered a day later. Who had committed the double murders, and why? Within weeks, Aarushi’s parents, the Talwars, were accused; four years later, they went on trial and were convicted. But did they do it? Avirook Sen attended the trial, accessed important documents and interviewed all the players—from Aarushi’s friends to Hemraj’s old boss, from the investigators to the forensic scientists—to write a meticulous and chilling book that reads like a thriller but also tells a story that is horrifyingly true.

The Pistorius book. I was in Nairobi at a UNEP conference, when the chilling news of successful model Reeva Steenkamp’s fatal shooting by her boyfriend and global sporting star Oscar Pistorius stunned the world. Over the ensuing weeks, as Pistorius appeared in court and applied for bail, every detail that emerged was analysed, debated, justified and digested. South Africa and the world in general were haunted by the events as they were repeated and discussed at length. Public perception vacillated from version to version and from hour to hour. Many supported Oscar’s theory that he thought it was an intruder that had gained entry into their home. I have just read the massive tome --Behind the Door which is a compelling narrative that unpacks the apparently true facts of the story, as revealed in the courtroom and beyond during the murder trial of Oscar Pistorius and as told to the authors in several exclusive interviews and behind-the-scenes briefings. The investigative journalists look at the characters involved, relate the courtroom interactions and dramas, the construction of each side’s argument, the analysis of forensic and circumstantial evidence and the exchanges between the personalities, as well as a broader look at violence and criminal justice in South Africa.I found it vivid and gripping, insightful and authoritative, but again, Behind the Door plays judge and jury on the Reeva and Oscar story.

Lots of various stories on Oscar. Published by Pan Macmillan UK, the book has definitely fetched huge returns to the publishers already. Interestingly Oscar’s family have condemned the book,since it alleges that the amputee Olympic sprinter beat his girlfriend Reeva Steenkamp with a cricket bat, before he killed her three years ago. The book claimed to reveal fresh evidence of an argument between the couple — in contrast to Pistorius saying that he mistook Steenkamp for an intruder when he shot her through the door of his bedroom toilet.

A celebrity who worked hard. Pistorius who is, 29, was first found guilty of culpable homicide, the equivalent of manslaughter — but his conviction was upgraded to murder last year after a state appeal. The double amputee faces a minimum 15-year jail term for murder, which may be reduced due to time he has already spent in prison. He has denied killing Steenkamp in a rage and, during his trial, sobbed in the dock as details of his lover’s death were examined in excruciating detail Then the next book out in the same genre is “ An extraordinary life. The untold story of Sunanda Pushkar the wife of Shashi Tharoor. According to facts of the case, on 17 January 2014, Sunanda Pushkar, businesswoman and wife of writer and politician Shashi Tharoor, was found dead in her hotel suite in New Delhi. Her death was as shocking as it was suspect, spawning many a controversy and complex legal battles. Her life was no less dramatic but far less known.

The Pushkar book cover. The book according to the author is a culmination of material drawn from personal archives, numerous interviews and investigation across continents. Who really was Sunanda Pushkar? Was she a social climber hankering after power and fame? Or was she bold and unconventional, achieving success on her own merit only to become a casualty of circumstance? Was she a villain or a victim? Or a bit of both? In search of these answers, Sunanda Mehta, journalist and Pushkar’s former schoolmate,of my old Alma Mater - The Jesus and Mary Convent, but in Ambala, traces her subject’s life from her early days in cantonment towns, to her first two marriages, a largely unknown stint in Canada, her rise as a Dubai businesswoman, and finally her much-publicized years with Tharoor until her controversial death shook the nation.

A picture of the couple in happier times. Mehta recalls that all the young girls in Jhansi wished they could be like Sunanda Pushkar: tall, beautiful, magnetic. Her high-profile marriage to Tharoor and its subsequent breakdown. The circumstances leading up to her end and the manner of her passing were undoubtedly shocking, but there had been more to her life than her death.; Sunanda Pushkar’s entire narrative was in danger of being overshadowed by the nature of her demise. Veteran journalist Sunanda Mehta painstakingly pieced together this narrative for a biography of her long-ago friend. This seems to be a genre which is selling and that is what we discussed in my book club. Are these books being judge and jury on a case which has not been decided on in court? Whatever is the opinion of readers, these books make great reading material and are flying off the shelves, so are not likely to be stopped. ( All images off the net)

Terra Vera on St. Mark's Road, Bangalore

As a child my mother told me that Terra Vera on St. Mark’s Road had been a pretty fancy hotel. There was a Vaz family who ran it when she was a young bride, just come to Bangalore and it was considered posh to go there and ‘take’ an English tea with cucumber sandwiches and scones. Later when we came to live in Bangalore, which was several decades later and I saw the decaying house, as I passed it, to go for my German classes to the Max Muller on Museum Road, it scared me. It was extremely run down and had a Hillman Minx car in the portico. The textured walls were crumbling, but behind the grime one could tell that it was beautiful once upon a time. The place was overgrown and no one seemed to live there. It was damaged by felons and criminals and the windows seemed broken and in a terrible condition. And the massive Rain trees that grew on the pavement, could have told us tales about the house, which could have filled a book.

Amidst several high rise buildings, swanky stores and restaurants, the abandoned house located in prime property on St Marks road remained a mess to passersby. To me the house stood tired, broken, and falling apart – painting a rather sad picture. Though I'd always wondered about this building, I’ve never actually bothered to find out more about the place. It came as a shock when the newspapers ran a story saying two old sisters-- Dulcie and Vera Vaz lived in the house in abject penury.They had another sister -- a Joy Preston who lived on Albert Street.

A few years later a news report was published that a 75 year old woman residing on St Mark’s Road was stabbed to death by an unidentified person in her house early in the morning. “Dulce Vaz was killed in front of her 80-year-old sister Vera, who could do nothing except scream at the fleeing murderer.”

At the time I wrote stories for a column called Back and Forth in the Deccan Herald. And I was writing about the Tunbridge Building on Infantry Road. There I met Vera Vaz who had taken refuge in the hostel in Tunbridge as she was sure the felons would kill her next. She did not want to speak about Tera Vera and her past and did not want to disclose her whereabouts, fearful for her life.

Eileen in 1948 standing with her cousins infront of what was called the Manel Guest House then. Then my interest grew when Eileen, a friend who is on FB, and who lives in the UK wrote asking me to take pictures of the place, as she had visited Terra Vera as a child. She said it had been a beautiful place.

Reading up on the building I learned that it was built in 1943 by an Anglo-Indian lawyer EJ Vaz, and on his death the house was gifted to his spinster daughters, Vera and Dulce Vaz. The report went on to say “ it is among the top most haunted places in Bangalore.” Vera was an English tutor, while Dulce a piano instructor. The two sisters were the only occupants of the house until 2002, when the tragic murder happened.”

Quoting the report --“Dulce, the 75-year-old younger sister was killed by a youth in front of Vera, the elder sister, who broke into the house at midnight. It was well past midnight when Vera, who was asleep, heard her sister scream for help. She came out of her room and saw a youth running away after assaulting her sister. She shouted at him, but could not do anything else.” “Dulce was buried in the house and Vera was asked to move to a safer location by the police. The case remains unsolved to this day,” said the report. This was the era when Bangalore was rocked by several murders of old and infirm residents, who lived alone in their large bungalows.

The house was demolished in February 2014. Precious belongings in the house like the furniture and a vintage car remained untouched till then. Also, the stories continued and I laughed when one of the kids in my class wanted to do a story on the ‘haunted’ house. He said people who reside around have heard screams, a face appearing out of the windows, colder temperature in a few rooms and the sound of a piano being played. Terra Vera, the ‘haunted house’ on St Mark’s Road, was finally razed in 2019 and my picture shows the new glitzy glass and chrome structure. The 10,000-sq ft property was the butt of endless spooky stories and finally could have been sold for Rs 20 crore. Who got the money is anyone’s guess.

Mount Carmel College, Bangalore

“ Would you like to teach in Mount Carmel’s College, Bangalore?” asked a friend and fellow book lover. I was at a loose end after having chosen to return late for the semester, in St. Joseph’s College, where I had worked for 12 years. I preferred staying on for my grand daughter’s birthday in London, as I had come especially for it, on my way home from the US. She was going to be six and grumbled that I only went to the US and hardly came to the UK. Ofcourse my son echoed her sentiments roundly. So here was I leaving the UK well after the 15th of June and well after the start of the semester. And sadly well after the classes had begun. But Mount Carmel’s required someone with my skill set in Science and the Environment Journalism and who was I to refuse? A doctorate opens not just doors, windows of opportunity too and I was fast beginning to realise it.

For the first time I was going to be teaching in an all girl setting and in a new college where my own sister had passed out. It was an exciting new prospect. And the added bait was Keerti my friend who also lives on Hayes Road, would come and go at the same time. So we could Ola it to and fro! Ah! That was the life. Mount Carmel College, Bangalore is a women's college in Vasanth Nagar, in Bangalore, India that was established on 7 July 1948. The college offers undergraduate and postgraduate courses and the college is 'A+' accredited by NAAC and was awarded Three Stars by NAAC which few colleges can boast of. Affiliated to Bangalore University, the college functions as an autonomous institution. In 2008 it was ranked by India Today as one of the top three colleges in Karnataka in the fields of arts, science and commerce. And for me a lecturer to teach kids who come in on the basis of an interview, means you are teaching kids, who are there to learn and explore academics, not just for the degree.

Hardly had I mentioned that I was teaching in Mounts when there was an explosion of so many friends telling me they were MCC grads on Social Media. What is interesting is looking at their who’s who sign board -- everyone from actresses Anushka Sharma and Deepika Padukone to Nirupama Rao our ex Ambassador to the US and Margaret Alva Rajya Sabha minister and Kiran Mazumdar Shaw owner of Biocon. The line up is too long to mention here, but clearly shows the calibre of the kids studying there. As for me the change could not be more welcoming. I walk into classes which are silent and students who have fixed the laptop and overhead projector for my lecture. Students who want to learn, who pick my brains, who enjoy the subject as they chose it because they love our planet. And I am happy as I know those 60 women will go out into the world and may not write about what I am educating them about, but will apply their knowledge in their own homes when they have them. Already with an assignment four of them went to Daily Dump and learned exactly how composting works and installed khambhas in their own homes! Rain water harvesting had that group insist their parents fixed RWH in their buildings. Solar energy was another eye-opener and Anu solar has been contacted to erect panels in their homes. Cutting back on Single Use Plastic -- the college canteen was the first place targeted and cleaned up.

Women rule, that’s what I can see in the impeccable campus and the attitude of the students. No begging for attendance, they are there because they want to study, most with 100% attendance. Four classes at a stretch rather than drag me all the way everyday. I don’t come home exhausted any more, needing to sleep of the rigours of yelling. Instead I come home pleased that I am able to share my knowledge and my western style of teaching, that I learned while studying abroad. What does that mean? I dont ram down notes, they research, do assignments and by that learn much more than our Indian style of top down education. Life is good and long live Mount Carmel’s!