I had to do it MY WAY!

It is common knowledge that the days of your youth are the best days of your personal life. Why? Because when growing up as a child, your mother and father took good care of you. There was nothing that we needed. From very young, they taught you a few requirements to cope with, such as washing your mouth, and washing and bathing yourself, then later dressing yourself and combing your hair, all the while you were being cared for and loved, with no worries of your own. My Mother and Father were both Anglo-Indians. My Father’s name was Vincent Archibald Page, born in 1904, in Northern India. My Mother’s maiden name was Gaynor and her first names were Rena Inez; she was born in Bhusawal, India, in 1914. Her parents, and family before, were Railway employees. My Granddad for example was a Mail Train Driver and served all his life on the Railways, during the Steam Engine era. They, the Anglo-Indians, were the pioneers of the Railway system in India, apart from Customs, Post & Telegraphs and Civil Service and in Power & Water services. Granddad and all the males in his family and other Anglo-Indians spent their lives keeping the wheels of progress rolling.

We had no connections with the family on my Father’s side, except a very old man Mr. Jack Duckett, who went away to Bangalore in 1940; he was a cousin. Otherwise no one was in contact at all. Dad’s Father and Mother died when he and his younger Brother George Page were less than 13 years old. My Dad helped his Brother George through, with the help of Barnes High School in Deolali; George later joined the B.B. & C I Railways. My Dad and Mum naturally took great care of us, though Mum was strict, Dad was a gentle giant standing about 6 ft 2” tall and broad shouldered and possibly weighed about 84 Kgs. in weight. We lived in a flat in Khan Building, Dockyard Road, Mazagaon, Bombay, on the first floor.

Life was very easy and safe for children and everyone in those days, for example in 1937 – 1938, I was a 3-year-old when I used to wander down on to the pavement about 75 yards away to sit on the floor with a kela wali (a woman selling Bananas) and spend time, till my Mum would find me missing, then send her hired help to fetch me from this woman. The kela wali was an elderly woman and liked me sitting next to her. These, by the way, were my barefoot days and shoes were kicked off in the morning. At that time I had a Brother Eardley who was born on the first of November in 1935 and I was born on the second of September in 1934, making me 1 year and 2 months older. He was my Caucasian brother. He would try to join me in everything I did and other times he couldn’t and he had a little temper. He was a cute little fellow with light eyes and a good complexion, but I think my Mum spoilt him a bit, so outside the house he was on good behavior, otherwise I would have to give in to him at home, under Mum’s care. But he was very competitive in everything he did; he wanted to be the best, cleanest, tidiest and cleverest, except for one thing and that was in sports. I had an edge over him right through till I was 21 years old and left India.

We had a playing park opposite to our house at Khan Building, so we found ourselves there at least five evenings a week, playing some games or just running and racing with other kids or watching adults and kids flying kites, until we could fly kites ourselves, when we grew older. Most kids played with tops and marbles and we occasionally saw some playing “gilli danda. This we could play when we were over 7 years old. The gilli was a piece of wood about 2” diameter, and each side coned down. So if you used a 2 feet long 1” diameter round stick, you hit the edge of the gilli it would bounce, and while in the air, you hit it again, as far as you can. The distance you hit it from the base, in terms of number of lengths of the stick, it gave you a score to compare with others to win the game, which brought out the excitement in us young ones.