I don’t know whether the moist eyes, pursed lips and choked throat this morning would have met his approval. But this was no act. This was real. Real enough to want to confirm the message was indeed true.
There is something about nattily dressed teachers. And Mr Frederick Gomes was as nattily dressed as they come. While generations of students at Don Bosco, Park Circus, first encountered him in the corridors and staircases, it was in the auditorium that they will always remember him. In the wings giving the last bit of instruction on how to perform or on the stage making an announcement in his gentle and well-modulated voice. But that is to get ahead. Let us complete the first scene.
Frederick Gomes at Bosco Beat & Raag
Mr Gomes in a blazer and tie when the weather allowed it, a cravat or was it a scarf, in kurta when the occasion demanded. He knew how to dress, and he knew how to speak — gentle and firm. Not given to raising his voice. Ever. It would be too crass. Even chastising was performed with affection and concern. As if, it could be recorded and shown to younger teachers how students should be admonished.
He was a man of theatre who had strayed into the classroom. Yet, I do not know how he was in the classroom teaching geography and English. He never taught me in a classroom. He taught me during auditions and rehearsals, performances and plays. He taught how to block and how to catch the light, how to modulate and play with the timbre of your voice, and how to project it so that the last row could hear it without feeling that you were shouting. Long before we had heard of method acting and Stanislavski, he taught us the art of theatre. And he also taught us to do lights and wear makeup because theatre was not just about being an actor. In fact, that is what you did when seniors were performing on stage. Or just worked as prompters.
Don Bosco School, Park Circus
Lessons in performance, taught gently
I have little doubt that if the professional opportunities and rewards of being in theatre were better, many more of his students would be active in theatre. While a Vinay Sharma helms Padatik in the city, there are many who did theatre and moved on to doing other things. But in whatever allied field they ventured, and yes bureaucracy, advertising, academia and media, all require a bit of greasepaint and scripts pithily pitched, they remember Mr Gomes, or should I say, now that he has exited the stage, what was said only aside, Freddie.
Sorry, we did not win the British Council that year, sir. But we did believe that we were denied the top slot by a jury just a tad biased. Or so we thought. Not that we cared. During those and many other performances, we just loved learning and practising the craft with nary an idea we would ever make it a profession. There are times I rue that phone call from the newspaper editor when I was walking around NSD planning to join it. But it doesn’t matter. What matters is that you made us love performing in our own ways and you did it gently.
This morning when the message appeared on the chat window, it seemed a great while ago that our world began, and when it was confirmed that your play is done, all I could promise, like I am sure many of your students will as they learn of the news, was that we will strive to please you every day.
Aloke Thakore is a media practitioner, researcher and teacher who hopes one day to play the attendant lord, start a scene or two, or perhaps be the fool. He belongs to the class of ’89.