On 6 November, at around six in the evening, I came across a WhatsApp status shared by an auntie from my clan, herself a proud alumna. The invitation announced that the “First Ever CSC Alumni Meet cum Ningol Chakouba Celebration” would be held in the school’s auditorium on 8 November 2026. The auditorium at Catholic School Canchipur, my beloved alma mater, seats more than a thousand people. During the Literary Meet in my school days, it held students from all five sections of each class from Class 6 to Class 9, as well as all four sections of Class 10. Each section had more than 60 students, and some of the younger classes had more than 70 in a section. I could easily imagine the hall full again for an occasion like this.
As I read through the programme and looked at the school emblem on the invitation, a wave of nostalgia swept over me.
My journey at Catholic School Canchipur began in 2009, in Nursery A, with Madam Bina as my class teacher. A year later, I was in KG-A with Madam Vicky. Then came Class 1-C with Madam Bijaya (Senior). She taught me how to ask in English for permission to enter a classroom when a teacher was already inside. I still remember how well she handled us.
Like many students, I got to know every nook and cranny of the school. Of all the teachers I’ve had, those at Catholic School Canchipur worked together particularly well. If a teacher went two or three minutes over and the next teacher arrived, the latter would wait outside until the lesson finished. Sometimes, when it was clear the class would carry on a little longer, the waiting teacher would quietly walk away and let the lesson continue. We saw this often enough to take it for granted.
Cut to 2022. I was in Class 12 when a former batchmate, who was studying at another school, told me that a teacher there had complained to the principal because a colleague had carried on teaching after the bell. I found it as strange as my friend did.
That same spirit of cooperation was evident in everything from the house-wise preparations for our much-awaited Games and Sports Meet to the three-day Literary Meet, which ended with the Thanksgiving Ceremony for Teachers. There were also Children’s Day celebrations, felicitations and farewells. Sometimes, a glance between teachers seemed enough to settle what needed to be done.
In all the exams I sat at Catholic School Canchipur, I can hardly remember an invigilator saying an unnecessary word. Even when a colleague came in to correct an error or change a question or two, the exchange was brief. A smile at the start, a word of encouragement or a “thank you” at the end was always welcome. In one of my first exams at the school I attended later, I found it distracting when two young invigilators murmured throughout the exam. Things may well have changed since then. Both schools have a special place in my heart and helped shape me. I’m still at a stage in life when there’s something to learn from every experience. What stays with me about my teachers at Catholic School Canchipur is the courtesy they showed us and one another.
Madam Vicky was my class teacher in KG-A in 2010. I still remember the day she told us in class that the late Rev. Fr George had succeeded Rev. Fr Victor as principal. Anyone who was taught by her may remember how sparingly she spoke and how she dealt with each student individually. Once she had finished the day’s lesson, she would wipe her face with a handkerchief while keeping an eye on the class for the last few minutes. Sometimes she would speak softly on the phone in her own dialect, covering her mouth. As far as I remember, asking to go to the washroom rarely got us anywhere. We were a little scared of her.
I’ve known since kindergarten that her son, Ricky, was in my batch. I think he still remembers me. In those early years, I remember how gently his mother treated him. We were classmates again in 2018, in Sir Rojendro’s Class 8-A. If I remember correctly, Ricky sat two or three benches behind me. He was always smiling and ready for a bit of mischief, like most boys our age.
I had my share of fun that year too. I laughed out loud, talked during lessons and got called out for it. Once, Sir Patel, who taught us Manipuri, made a friend and me stand holding our ears. Babloo and Lincoln, two of our toppers, sat behind me and joined in the fun. Once, Sir Lolitro called Lincoln and me out in English class and made us stand in front of everyone. Somehow, I still managed to stick to my little study schedule through all three major exams that year.
Ricky’s antics may sometimes have disrupted a lesson. I used to wonder whether word had got back to his mother. One day, when classes were over and we were about to go home, I saw Madam Vicky stride past with Ricky following quietly behind. When he spotted us, he turned, winked and smiled. I remember that moment vividly.
Even after all that happened in 2023, I think fondly of Ricky and of Madam Vicky, who went on to teach us maths in Class 2-D, where Madam Mercy, then Miss Mercy, was our class teacher. It was only towards the end of Class 10 that I began to learn which communities some of my teachers belonged to. Madam Bina, Madam Rosemary, Madam Mawi, Miss Mercy, Sir Stephen, Miss Deepa, Sir Roland, the late Sir John and Sir Adam each taught me a subject or two. I came to learn that Madam Vicky and Ricky belonged to the wider Kuki community.
Back then, we were more interested in who could crack a good joke, who could hold their own at football, basketball or volleyball against the Class 9 and 10 seniors, and who could get away with eating in class, whispering for an answer in an exam or sometimes bunking a lesson. I still think of Ricky as the same smiling friend I knew at Catholic. I hope that when the violence and turmoil are behind us, we’ll meet again and he’ll give me that same wink and contagious smile. I hope it happens in this lifetime. And I’d like to think that Madam Vicky, Madam Rosemary and Madam Mawi still remember at least a few of our faces and names.
Those days felt as though they would go on forever. Now I carry them with me as memories. I hope Ricky, Madam Vicky and everyone I’ve mentioned are doing well.
Another memory takes me back to 2019. I was in Class 9-A with Sir Lolitro, who taught us English. I was the boys’ class captain, and my friend Liona Moirangthem was the girls’ captain. Liona was studious and determined and went on to top our Class 9 batch. I was an average student who worked hard to pass every subject and earn a rank. Luckily, I did.
That year, the school sent us to a quiz competition at the Tanglei Festival in Oinam, which has since been discontinued. I remember it was Bor Lai Khoiramba during Durga Puja. My parents and younger brother, who was then in Class 8, came with me. Liona arrived first with her mamo and her soft-spoken paternal grandmother, who has since passed away. She called to ask whether I was on my way. As soon as I told her where I was, she went in and registered our team. Catholic School Canchipur was in the house!
Liona had already taken part in state-level science competitions and knew what it felt like to come first and collect a prize. This was my first state-level competition. We prepared over a few phone calls after school. I was excited and prayed that we would at least earn a place for our school.
The good news is that we came first among four participating schools. I was happier than I could put into words, and I thanked Liona for being such a good teammate. When Sir Lolitro asked how it had gone, he smiled and congratulated us. We told him that the organisers had announced at the venue that the prizes would be sent to the school for presentation there. I was especially excited because our principal usually felicitated students who won prizes at local, state or international competitions during morning assembly. The sad part is that we still haven’t received the prize. I don’t know whether the school ever heard from the organisers.
In 2020, as we were preparing for our matriculation exams during the COVID-19 pandemic, I sometimes felt our batch could have used more support. Sir Pari, who taught Computer Science, reached out to me personally on Messenger and offered free online coaching to everyone taking the subject. He told me two others would help: his friend Sir Malemnganba, who I was told had topped his MCA batch at NIELIT, Akampat, and a professor who had taught them. I can no longer recall the professor’s name. I do remember the WhatsApp screenshots Sir Pari sent me. In them, he had asked his friend to make the classes free for everyone.
Sir Pari joined us for the first few classes and followed along as the other teachers took us through the material. They covered the entire syllabus on time, and he held a few practice tests at his home. Around then, his firstborn son, whom he fondly called “Tomthin,” was just learning to walk and talk. I imagine he’s in school himself by now. It was a difficult time for teachers, with salaries still being negotiated, and Sir Pari was early in his teaching career. The time and care he gave us were a lesson in themselves. I’ll remember those classes, his banter and our replies for a long time.
We became the batch of 2021. Sir Seityajit, who taught us biology in Class 10-D, called us the “COVID-19 matric batch” after a football session between students from our batch and our teachers at Chumthang Shannapung one day in August 2024. Our 2021 High School Leaving Certificate Examination was due to start on 6 May, as I remember it. It was postponed after COVID-19 cases rose in March and April, and we never sat the exam. On the last day of Yaoshang that year, the government urged people to call off public gatherings. Before long, “lockdown” and “quarantine” had become part of our everyday vocabulary.
I’ll put my pen down here for now. Some stories are best left in a quiet corner of the mind. One day, when life catches me off guard, I may look back on what made me smile as I wrote this. Remembering where I came from may give me the energy to keep striving.
My deepest respect and thanks go to the seniors who made this gathering possible. Some now serve in the state’s bureaucracy and other departments, while others have taken different paths. We once shared the same classrooms and corridors. Now you’ve given us a way to find one another again. I hope you’ll carry on with this work and reach out whenever we can help the CSC Alumni Association grow stronger.
As the saying goes, “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” I believe the gathering on 8 November 2026 was that first step. I’m eager to do my part, however I can, as a proud alumnus of my beloved Catholic School Canchipur.
“With God, our fathers love
Whose love we do believe
We’ll strive to build a better world to live.”
The writer, Pravin Thongam is Batch of 2021 · Catholic School Canchipur.
