Saturday, November 17, 2007


Surely, each one of us has scaled great heights and each one has a great story to say?

So let your own anecdotes flow,
small or unexceptional may they be,
that all Stanesmen may see,and catch the glow.
Here endeth..



Stanes said...


Peter, Peter burning bright
In the forests of our hearts,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful memory?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made us make thee too?

Stanes said...

cures complimentary
from george david's apothecary
keeps your larynx honking
young bong suitors bonking

cures elementary
at george david's apothecary
for colds and gas
relieves throat and(reason works better than rhyme here)

cures satisfactory
at george david's apothecary
keeps sherlock hearty
not to mention moriarty

cures literary
at george david's apothecary
excessively humorised (if i may bend the language a wee bit)
contents serialised

sunu charles

Stanes said...


teddy has done stanesmen all right
got us blogging all day and most of the night
now there's blogger me and blogger you
but where the *#@!! is blogger llew

there's blogger young and blogger old
in tropical climes and canada cold
some so regular as if on cue
but where on earth is blogger llew

we've got bloggers in our fighting force
in banking law and at the bourse
church affairs and education too
but where the hell is blogger llew

all our blogger girls and blogger boys
(even serial george and ms christine poise)
have reached our proverbial waterloo
finding needle-in-the-haystack blogger llew

nothing seems to be far more greater
than the years spent in the alma mater
we bloggers will do what bloggers do
with or without the elusive llew


10:57 PM

Stanes said...

George, why lurkest thou in deep shadow?
Tis time to make bold thy entry on the blog,
And make thy talents glow
Lest thou disappear in a fog!

Stanes said...

George, when you sat in a huddle over your Algebra test,
Your thoughts began to muddle
And your brain was in a fuddle;
You felt the urge to piddle
And you hurried to the bogs.
With your flap you had to fiddle
And you soon began to piddle
And the piddle made a puddle,
With an everwidening ripple!


Stanes said...

'p' is for the piddler
don't confuse him with the fiddler
who is very often the one
who scrapes and saws the violon

some piddlers go to the bogs
some of us visit the blog
some believe in stream of consciousness
some others go drip-drip with wryness

some piddlers make statements of reason
some, irreverent to the point of treason
some piddlers, their wisdom do waste
with homilies and cut-and-paste

some piddlers make outpourings in cold climes
some from the land of greenwich mean time
some local ones type out their prose
some earnest and true, others gross

piddlers keep this world of ours turning
keep the fires of our industries burning (strange but true)
what kind of a piddler are you?
or are you a non-piddler like lew?

sunu charles

Stanes said...


I should have been wary
Before adding to the glossary
Your poetic fantasy
Puts me in a tizzy
Before I next open my gob
I’ll sure think of the Canadian Bob

But you, Peter, deserve many a clap
For resurrecting ‘flap’



PS: If my feeble rhyme attempts rankle
Just tell me . . . I’ll stop them at the ankle

Stanes said...

The time has come, the Stanites said,
To speak of many things,
Of Khaki pants, blue pinafores
And adolescent flings!
Vicky pallams, kambarkats,
Dark halwa, "jigs & jogs"
Physics, Maths and Algebra,
And piddling in the bogs!

Sim's Park, Golflinks,
Bedford flicks,
These were our favourite haunts,
Attadi and Tenneriffe,
How we enjoyed those jaunts!
The raids we made on Ritz Hotel,
Our bosoms full of pears,
We gorged on juicy peaches, plums,
Our stomachs, they did swell!

We mined the hillside full of clay,
Worked fingers to the bone,
To gouge the gem and make our day,
A chunk of carving stone!
We waded into running streams
With tadpoles, frogs and bugs,
Saw iridescent dragonflies,
It was the stuff of dreams!
We played with sticks and stones and balls,
The cheapest, simple things,
Peashooters, catapults and tops,
And kites with powdered strings!

The lessons taught,
The games we played,
The schoolyard bullies tough,
Dear Mr. Watson's gentle lore,
Or Hindi Master's snuff!

We reminisce of yesteryear,
With smiles, sometimes a tear,
Endearing teachers, strict and kind,
And those who instilled fear!
Mrs. Rajan's Geography,
Miss Cherian's Geometry,
Mr. Samuel's Chemistry,
Miss Abraham's Biology!

Oh, may we n'eer forget our store,
Of memories from the past,
Our alma mater, Stanes high School
In little town, Coonoor!

(with my apologies to Lewis Carroll
for subverting his delightful nonsense verse!)


Stanes said...

Teddy, you are so right! Most of my day dreaming is done at work! While my fingers are busy with cold steel, my legs are on auto pilot and if I am not talking to the robots, my mind is free to roam untethered! I think it's high time the Bangalore chapter held a meet. I think you have the most number of bloggers and stanites. Those who don't show up, can be walloped!
Have a great weekend everyone!


Stanes said...

ignition on,
hear the engine purr
strap on your seat belt,
shift the gear
start the journey,
who wants to arrive
when peter g
gets into overdrive.

While morgans, bentleys,
ferraris and fords
break the speed barriers
and tear up the roads
they may breach the red
of the tachometer
cant match the pace of
peter's pentameter

when peter drives
put things aside
[no pun intended]
just go for the ride
an express way
through the mists of time
never in the safe lane
never out of rhyme.

sunu charles

Stanes said...

You have put your 3 days off the blog to good use and outdone Lewis Caroll with a classic .With just a few verses you have brought back to life our time in the Blue Mountains.
After reading your verses I want to be back in Coonoor full of mimsy and to gyre and gimble in the Nilgiri wabes.
I hereby nominate you for the title of Poet Laureate of our blog.Your cask will be handed over in due course

Stanes said...

"Ascended to the lofty throne

Will Peter/ Sunu; laureates; if asked to preside an inaugural,

Elect retreat? Their prior sins disown,

And heap scorn upon the craft of doggerel.

'Tis fair enough, should our masters takes that stance

Penning rhyme adorned with bow and bonnet –

They still can put some steroids down the pants

Penning rhyme adorned with bow and bonnet –

Will our men forsake their bawdy roots?

Will laurels swell our laureats' head?

Puritan-like disowning talk of wenches, knaves and toots

By fame transform'd into Enwrights instead?

We fear for what response our bards shall make

YET – The future of our vulgar arts, are they stake?


Stanes said...

youve done it again. and this time i'm not that wretched child sitting next to you waiting for the general knowledge prize! congratulations.

may your hands always have plenty
may your feet always be swift
may your closet's cache of single malts
your evening spirits lift
may you climb up higher and higher
may your library increase,
and may you stay
forever young
(with apologies to bob dylan)

ogden nash
would sound a little rash
if he tried to spell
your superb doggerel

so, another one
like the other one
maybe tomorrow?
(minus the mask of zorro)!

admittedly, the last one was poor, but what the heck?

sunu charles

Stanes said...

Glossary of terms used in Stanes in the 50's and 60's:

1) Allies - Marbles
2) ABC poochies - Water insects in Stanes stream.
3) Dames - Girls
4) Sneak (verb) - To carry tales to teachers and other figures of authority.
5) Pusky - Wimp (as in pusky fellow)
6) Sas - Sister
7) Gob - Mouth
8) Geech - Earwax
9) Fudge - Copy someone else's work
10) Assay - corruption of the words, "I Say"!
11) Sodie - Single coloured smoky marble
12) Dom - Jumbo sized clay marble used in the game of bendha.
13) Jaati - Cord wound around a top
14) Caty - Catapult
15) Jigs and Jogs - Peanuts and cube jaggery
16) Maanja - Mixture of wheat flour paste, water and powdered glass, rubbed on kite strings
17) Choocham - The thread angle tied to the central rib of a kite, where the string was tied to.
18) Goindha - The one-sided diving motion of a kite
19) Bosom - space between the khaki shirt and the chest where looted pears, peaches were stored
20) Koksie - one who had buck teeth
eg. Ramamurthy Sundaram who lived in Kievcote was called Koksie!
21) Fags - Cigarettes
22) Bogs - bathrooms

More contributions are welcome to be added to this list!


Stanes said...

Glossary of terms used in Stanes in the 60's (late)& 70's.

1. Boochie -Insect
2. Bundoo - Beetle
3. Draggie -Dragonfly
4. Tuck -Food
5. Grub -Food
6.Mugging -Swotting
7. Niff -Smell
8. Nut -Head
9. Thowk -Frog
10.Gilly - In Gilly Thandu game
11.Plug - Constipation
12.Slop -Below Standard(person).

I was known for Slang & Curse Words in School.

I will come out with another Glossary shortly.


Stanes said...

More for the glossary

Piddle - What you did in the bogs. Also known as No.1 and sometimes rhymed with hiss. No.2 was also a bog time activity that sometimes had to be performed in public view due to an acute shortage of doors in the bogs.

Bugger - (One who bugs?)This was considered a swear word by the teaching community, but the boys used the word quite casually. eg., Lets wallop the bugger. (Wallop! the word just came out of the blue! Guess everybody knows what wallop means)

Bugger was used to describe anyone. But, only boys. Never heard of a blue being called a bugger. I wonder what the feminine equivalent was. Bugger was generally not a complimentary term. Though sometimes it was a neutral word.

Piddling was also a social activity helping build stronger bonds, camaraderie and the wallop spirit within communities. eg. Common buggers, lets go for a piddle.Then we'll wallop the bugger


suresh said...

Stanes, where the slopes gave hopes!!

Stanes said...

Sunu's Rap

You wake up in the morning
with a heavy head
Can’t think straight,
your head feels like lead
Coffee aint enough
to get ready, get set
Bowels don’t move
till you light that cigarette

Come on yo! It’s time
tO make the cut
If you wanna kick ass
you got to kick that butt!

It aint cool no more
to light that fag
Makes you feel like a grouch,
gives you a face like a hag
Slows you down,
sinks your eyes in your socket
Puff one down,
burn a hole in your pocket

Come on yo! It’s time
to make the cut
If you wanna kick ass
you got to kick that butt!

Camel says
you’ll walk a mile
We say
that it aint our style
Panama says
its good to the last puff
We say
that it make you huff and puff
Virginia Slim says
you come a long way baby
We say that
your days are numbered, maybe
Scissors says
that it satisfies
We say it’s a pack of lies

Winston Churchill don’t
puff his cigar no more
That tough John Wayne’s
been shown the door
George Harrison
can no more smoke
His life expectancy
has gone flat broke
Even Rajnikant
stopped doing cigarette tricks
you need a different fix

Come on yo!
It’s time to make the cut
If you wanna kick ass
you got to kick that butt!

If you are a smoker,
we say you are a joker
If you are a smoker
we say you are a joker
…(repeat and fade)

Peter Greene said...

Bloggers come and bloggers go,
Some bloggers peter out you know
To enter through St. Peter's gate
And leave us wondering of their fate!
But peter in or peter out,
Our School blog's what it's all about!
Long live the blog!

sunu charles said...

how did the butsucker's rap get here? i did this as a favour for anita do-gooding for some celebration or the other at exxonmobil