by David Zenian
A small group of young and old alumni, diplomats, government officials and guests joined teachers and students to mark the 180th anniversary of the Armenian College and Philanthropic Academy of Calcutta in April this year, with their thoughts on the years gone by for guidance, and their eyes set on keeping alive an institution which has served generations of Armenians since 1821.
Not an easy task, considering that the once vibrant Armenian community of Calcutta has shrunk to a mere 150 or less people, taking away with it the student pool.
Located on a recently renovated campus, complete with indoor swimming pool, a green field, a library which was first opened in 1828, a science lab, a dormitory, dining halls and modern kitchen facilities, the Armenian College has always been a source of pride for the Armenians of India.
Writing in The Statesman, one of India's largest and oldest English-language newspapers, a Calcutta-based Indian journalist who attended the anniversary celebrations said:
"Ever since I visited the quaint and exotic land of Armenia some years ago, I've always longed to go back. On the second day of this month (April) I had the chance to do just that, without setting foot out of Kolkatta (Calcutta). For a few hours we found ourselves transported to Armenia."
A special program for the occasion included dances, songs and a short operetta in English. But one thing was missing. There were only a few parents because nearly all the students are orphans from Armenia.
According to available statistics compiled since 1952 ? when the ratio of Armenian children born in India outnumbered those from outside the country?the student body of the Armenian Academy and Calcutta's Davidian Armenian Girls Schools, which have long been combined under one roof, had dropped from an all-time high of 206 in 1961, to just six in 1998.
The Academy, while always catering for the needy children of the Armenian community of Iran, and the local immigrant Iranian-Armenian population, almost opened its doors to non-Armenian students a few years ago until a group of activists stepped in and the management of the institution was handed over to the Holy See at Etchmiadzin.
Since then, the student body has grown from six to almost 60 students and plans are in place to add at least 30 more each year until a target number of over 200 is reached.
Leading the revival of the Academy is Ms. Sonia John, an educator herself and long time home science and English language teacher who came to India with her parents from Shiraz, Iran, in the mid-1930's.
"This community has invested so much in this Academy over the past 180 years. It has always been a beacon, and as long as I can, I will never let the flame die," she told me during a recent tour.
"We started with not only a small group, but with young students. We have to build their English-language skills first, and as the first group moves up a grade level, we will bring another group to fill that class. It's a step-by-step process, and I'm sure we will have our first graduates in the years to come," she said.
Blindly devoted to the Academy, Ms. John?or better known as the "dynamo" by her colleagues?jokes about her work and the endless hours she spends with the teachers, staff and children. "I admit that someone has to be insane to do this. Well, I must be insane."
Ms. John is neither of those. Her energy, at the age of 75, is the envy of the younger generation of staff and teachers at the Academy. And so is her devotion.
Every day, after ending her duties at the private school she owns, Ms. John could be found either at the local Armenian Church offices or at the school, following up on every detail from what's for dinner to how much the children are learning.
The first group of children from Armenia came two years ago, without a word of English, or for that matter, Hindi, but their progress has been phenomenal.
Sitting in on one of their remedial English language classes with teacher Ms. Vasmati R. Chaudhrey, this reporter saw how the so-called "older" children were helping the newcomers, often interpreting the English-language teacher's remarks into Armenian.
"These children have changed so much. Let's not forget they come from a different environment. I believe one or two of them were street urchins. They are doing great...very happy too," she said.
Under Etchmiadzin's guidance, its Calcutta-based representative Rev. Father Ghevond Ghevondian, the spiritual head of the Armenians of India, and a core of six Armenian teachers from Armenia, the students, all between the ages of seven and 12, are not only getting an Armenian education, but also learning English, which will in time be the main language of instruction.
Father Ghevond, a celibate priest, devotes most of his time not only to the refurbishment of the Academy's once large library, but also the religious education of the new students and the spiritual needs of the community.
"We start every meal with a prayer which is something our schools in Armenia don't do. Religion is very important in our lives, and to be quite honest, despite the fact that as a nation we have lost our independence and sovereignty more than once over the centuries, we have never lost our faith," he said.
But the emphasis is not on just religion and general education.
"As much as Armenian and English are important, we are also making sure that the students do not lose their Russian-language skills. After all, most of them will return to Armenia after graduation, and Russian will be an asset when they get back home," Ms. John said.
Along with getting a good education from Indian and Armenian teachers, the children?often more importantly at this early stage?also have a loving home and a caring environment.
"You should have seen the first group when they arrived. Some had emotional problems, others acted like misfits. No one smiled. All that has changed, and changed faster than we expected. You can see them in the playground, running, laughing and playing," she said.
Watching the children from a third floor window, Ms. John's description seemed an understatement. Laughter filled the playground, even as the Calcutta temperature had already started to soar close to the upper 90 F mark.
"We have their sleeping quarters equipped with ceiling fans for the summer months. The tap water in Calcutta is not safe to drink, but we have no problems here at the Academy because we have installed modern water filtering devices," she said.
"One thing which was not easy at first?food. The children did not like the spicy Indian cuisine, but we have changed our menu, as much as their tastebuds. They are eating everything now," she said.
On the day when this reporter visited the Academy and had lunch with the children, there was mild chicken curry, basmati rice, vegetables, fruits and beverages. Many of the children asked for seconds?"a good sign", as Ms. John explained later.
During the few days this reporter spent in Calcutta, the students celebrated St. Vartan's Day with not only an Armenian program, but also a few songs in Russian and at least one in Hindi.
"We are moving forward. Come and see the progress in a few years," Ms. John said.
Over the long years since 1821, the school has educated thousands of students, but unlike its early years most have left in search of a better future abroad.
It has always opened its doors to the children of needy families, be they from India or abroad. Education has always been free of charge and funding has always come from the dozens of endowment funds and donations, just as Asdvadsadoor Mouradkhan, the founding father of the Academy, intended it to be when he wrote his will back in 1779 and made a large donation "for the education of Armenian youth."
Over the decades, similar donations kept coming in, along with endowments, and it is this seed money, plus major funding from the Armenian Church of Calcutta, that finances the Academy until now.
Alumni are scattered around the world, from England to Australia, and a few still live in Calcutta, including four of the six graduating class of 1997-98 who are enrolled at the prestigious St. Xavier University, studying film production and public relations on sports scholarships and financial help from the Armenian Church in Calcutta.
Henrik Terchoonian, who is 23 years old now, came to the Academy from Iran as a young boy 15 years ago. "The Armenian Academy became my home. I have not seem my mother since I came here, and saw my father once, and that was seven years ago," he said.
"I cannot go back to Iran, but maybe the United States one day. This is home for now, and I'm getting a great education in the film industry which is very advanced here. It is no coincidence that Bombay is also known as Bollywood?much like Hollywood in California," he said.
Fellow classmate and rugby player, Emil Vartazarian, is also from Iran. He too came to the Academy as a child, finished school, and is now at the same university studying media and film. Like Henrik, he has seen his mother once seven years ago during a brief visit to his birthplace.
It is not certain if either Henrik or Emil will stay in India, but both remain grateful for what the Academy has done for them.
"We would not have received this education elsewhere. We were given an opportunity which was not available anywhere else," Vartazarian said.
The other two recent graduates, Zaven Stephan (Stepanian) and Markus Galston (Galusdian), were born in Calcutta from Indian mothers and Armenian fathers?themselves the children of early Iranian-Armenian immigrants who also attended the same school.
"We want to get more involved with the Academy. All four of us are rugby players and we want to start a rugby program in the school. Sports has been such a great bonding experience for us, and we are sure we can attract the new students," Vartazarian said.
The four still play on the Armenian Sports Club team, which is one of the most popular across India, despite the fact that the club in recent years has been forced to recruit non-Armenian players. The Club, now under Arsham Sookias, a veteran rugby player himself, had its debut in 1890, often holding the first place in state and national championships.
"In Calcutta, we are the only four 20-something Armenian men. The rest are old, including many who are in their 90's. We hope the influx of new students to the Academy will change that in time," Henrik told me.
Among the people attending the Armenian Academy's 180th anniversary were some of the so-called "Old Boys", like 79-year-old Charles Sarkis and 84-year-old Manoug Manoug.
Sarkis, or Khatchadour Khatchadourian before he changed his name like almost all Armenian immigrants when he came to India in 1934 as a 13-year-old boy, is in charge of Calcutta's Chater Home for the elderly where 17 needy Armenians are cared for.
The Home, along with an endowment fund, is a gift to the community by Sir Catchick Paul Chater, an Armenian millionaire who was born in Calcutta in 1846 and made a fortune in commerce and became known as the "Grand Old Man" of Hong Kong.
A generous philanthropist, Sir Paul, who died in 1926, left large sums of money to a long list of Armenian and non-Armenian institutions, including his alma mater, the La Martinier College of Calcutta, the University of Hong Kong, the Masonic Endowment Fund and many others.
Before his death, Sir Paul also left his palatial residence known as the "Marble Hall" to the government of Hong Kong and his residuary Estate to the Armenian Holy Church of Nazareth in Calcutta where he was baptized in 1846.
Charles Sarkis, who is better known as Chacha, or uncle in Hindi, also maintains the small chapel and Armenian cemetery where generations of Armenians, including the Indian-Armenian historian and author of the 1937 book "Armenians in India", Mesrob Jacob Seth are buried.
It was Seth who spent many years meticulously researching?though only using English-language sources?the life and works of early Armenians along with translating hundreds of epitaphs on Armenian graves across India.
But even back in the 1930's, Seth was unhappy with what the future held for the community when, in the concluding chapter of his book, he said: "The Armenians in India can be proud of a glorious past, but their future ? is not at all certain."
A similar view was expressed by the late Archbishop Torkom Koushakian who, after more than a year-long tour of India on behalf of Holy Etchmiadzin and the Armenian General Benevolent Union in 1918, expressed fears that the rapid assimilation of the community could be dangerous.
When Koushakian visited India, Armenians had already moved away from most of the early settlements and the remaining few thousand had gathered in Calcutta, Madras, Bombay and Delhi. He had to use an interpreter on more than one occasion because "the younger generation" did not understand Armenian. That was in 1918.
"I am sure there will always be Armenians in India, but will there be Armenian communities," Koushakian said in a farewell speech on February 17, 1918 before returning to his Diocese in Egypt.
Today, not more than two hundred Armenians, many of mixed parentage, live in India.
The few Armenians in New Delhi are transient workers, but thanks to the newly-opened Armenian Embassy there, the Armenian image is very much alive.
Under Ambassador Armen Baibourtian, a career diplomat who has served as Deputy Foreign Minister, Consul General in Los Angeles, and Deputy Permanent Representative at the United Nations, relations between Armenia and India ? countries with ancient historical ties?are thriving. The Indian government recently decided to send 1000 tons of wheat and rice as a gift to Armenia. The Embassy has also arranged for more students from Armenia to train in the information field at several Indian high-tech institutions.
In the short span of less than one year, efforts by Baibourtian and his deputy Arman Israelian have not only increased the number of Indian students studying at the Yerevan State Medical University (YSMU) in Armenia, but also established close working relations with several prestigious medical institutions in India.
During a seven-day visit to New Delhi in March this year, YSMU Rector Vilen Hakopian signed several agreements involving not only academic matters, but also research and development.
To accommodate the increased number of Indian students, YSMU has introduced English as the language of education for foreign, and especially Indian students.
"Indian students have always attended YSMU, but there has been a decline in the years after the collapse of the Soviet Union. We have revived the program, and the numbers are constantly going up. We have established a special education department at the embassy to promote YSMU. In fact, with help from the Indian side, a special booklet has been published to explain what the Medical School offers. By July this year more than 70 Indian students enrolled for the fall semester and the number is expected to reach 100?more than twice the students during the previous academic year," Baibourtian said.
In April this year, the Embassy took the initiative and hosted a week-long Armenian cultural festival at the New Delhi Maurya Sheraton Hotel, complete with not just Armenian cuisine and Armenian musicians who were flown in for the occasion, but also an exhibit illustrating the 1700th anniversary of the adoption of Christianity as the state religion of Armenia.
"It's not important how big or how small the Armenian community is. What matters, and in fact what has always been the case throughout the past centuries, is the determination of a few people to keep our prestige high," Baibourtian said.
While the Armenian Embassy in New Delhi is promoting state-to-state relations with India, and a small group of Indian-Armenians are busy revitalizing community life through the Armenian Academy in Calcutta, the other once vibrant centers of Armenian life are on the decline.
Madras, which is now called Chennai, where the first Armenian newspaper was printed in 1794, no longer has an Armenian community.
Michael J. Stephen, whose grandmother was Armenian, looks after Madras's only Armenian Church, named after the Virgin Mary, and its surrounding property located on Armenian Street in the heart of the city.
The only other Armenian in Madras, who also lives on the church grounds with his Indian wife, is 88-year-old George Gregory, or Kevork Krikorian.
"When I was sent to Madras to look after the church in 1964, we still had a fairly active life. People started to leave, and now, I'm the only full-blooded Armenian here," Gregory said.
Frail, and unable to hear well, Gregory, who came to India as a six-year-old boy from Iran, spends his time in his small second floor apartment, waiting for the monthly paychecks from the Armenian Association, the Calcutta-based committee which finances the maintenance of the Church.
"It's very lonely here. I have no one to talk to ? not in Armenian anyway. I don't have much longer to live, because my health is very poor. I don't know what will happen after I die.
"We have a beautiful church, but we have no Armenians. I don't want to think. I get very depressed when I remember the good days, when we had a choir, when I participated in the church service every Sunday. All that is history now ... gone ..." he said with tears in his eyes.
"I guess it's fate. How long can Armenians survive outside Armenia? I don't want to think that what happened here in Madras is what's happening elsewhere in the world," he said.
Bombay, a bustling cosmopolitan metropolis and a major sea port, also lost its old Armenian community years ago.
Only four Armenians remain in what was once an active community.
Rosy Eknayan, 81, is the only India-born Armenian still living in Bombay. The other three, also women, are what she affectionately calls "transplants."
Her father came to India in 1918 and was very closely involved in the St. Peter's Armenian Church, which was built in 1796.
With local funds and endowments, the Ararat building, where Ms. Eknayan still lives, was constructed adjacent to the Armenian Church.
"We were quite active in the 50's but not any more. We had about 30 Armenians here. What can four women do today?" she asked.
Neither Ms. Nevart Parseghian Mehta nor Ms. Zabel Joshi and her mother were born in India, but as long time residents of the city consider themselves as Indian-Armenian as Ms. Eknayan.
Ms. Mehta, much younger than her 91 years, born in what was then Constantinople, was educated in the United States, receiving her Master's Degree from the prestigious Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy in 1937, and served as US Cultural Attaché in Bombay until 1955.
"India is home, but I still travel a lot," she said over a cup of coffee at her third-floor seaside apartment.
"I might have gone back to the United States, but I married an Indian and had a great life with him for 36 years. He died five years ago, and I have no intentions of leaving," she said.
Ms. Joshi, a 60-something Lebanese-born Armenian, who met her husband in Beirut and moved to Bombay, is another so-called transplant who was instrumental in passing the ownership of the Bombay Armenian Church and its adjoining property to Holy Etchmiadzin.
"There are just four of us here. We have done all we could, but at least we feel safe that the church and property are now in good hands. We will not be here forever?Etchmiadzin will," she said.
Once upon a time, active Armenian communities existed in Agra, Gwalior, Delhi, Surat, Bombay, Chinsurah, Saidabad, Calcutta, Madras and many other cities.
From an all-time high of nearly 20,000, down to a few thousand and now not more than 200, Armenians still survive and many are still determined to keep the old flame burning, from the school in Calcutta to the Armenian Embassy.
"The school kept this community alive for 180 years, and there is no reason why it will not continue doing that," Ms. Sonia John said. Given her determination, the future does not look as bleak as some people think.
