America was yet to rise from the rubble of a world war that would rock the planet and disrupt the balance of power. But that was still in the future and till then Britannia ruled the waves and the sun didn't set on the British Empire.
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This story is about the unsung heroes of that era—the descendants of the British and other European colonizers, who became the Anglo Indian people. Through the two-hundred-year period of British rule in India they grew in numbers and made the sub-continent their home. They became the bricks and mortar of the complex mechanism that was The Raj, running the basic infrastructure that made the country tick—the railways, police, post and telegraph, military, customs, and so on. This story is about them. Product Details About the Author. About the Author The author is a product of the environment of this book — boarding schools, railway colonies and the Anglo Indian people.
He grew up in India and emigrated to America as a young man. He and his wife now reside in Flowery Branch. Average Review. Write a Review. Related Searches.
The Boarding School. First published in View Product. Raj Books LLC. Paula has supported him in the witness box — twice — in trials of his teachers. And she supports him as he tells his tale again and again, on talk radio and in the newspapers, even though that entails the most dark revelations.
Boarding School Boy : In the Days of the Raj
How does Paula feel about Ian bringing things like this to the public? Now my life is all over Twitter and Facebook. And I think the only way to get over abuse is to start on that path of forgiveness towards the abusers, or to get some sort of resolution. Ian remained silent for 30 years: now he feels he has to speak out for those who still feel captive by their silence. The abusers are not suffering, so they still have got the power over you.
He spent six years there. As a teenager he sought out groups of older men for sex. Ian was an alcoholic and a heroin addict well-known for his violence and an upper-class accent that contrasted with the piercings, long hair and big dog that were his street uniform. This is how he and Paula met, 10 years ago.
She is from a rather different background: she grew up in the Scottish Borders in a family that had for generations worked in the garment mills of Hawick; her first job was as a maker of knitwear, but later she got a degree in community education, helping homeless people find new careers. Now she paints, sculpts and, you realise, spends a lot of time listening to Ian.
There are the 2am Twitter jags — your timeline is never empty if you follow IanMcFadyen For a start, sex and any physical intimacy stopped. I can deal with the rest.
Boarding School Boy by Ashley Shemain | NOOK Book (eBook) | Barnes & Noble®
But I went on really nasty antidepressants, just to quell my sex drive. The abusers, she suggests, stole from him the right to enjoy intimacy. I used to go to bed crying, on my own. But safe — nothing can happen there. A lot. That is an issue I need to work over. It means nothing; it was something I was taught to do as a child, to do well, to give pleasure to others. I do sex like a robot. I used to sleep with my female bosses.
When Ian has left the room, she cries a little. Many of the hundreds of people who have emailed me since early May seem to have found some satisfaction in the simple fact of recounting their story. They may never do so, but opening that long-closed box does seem to help. For most the shame and anger has not dissipated, but many have said that opening that box is satisfying and helpful. Telling their story can be powerful medicine and many have found some relief and even resolution through counselling and psychotherapy.
For others, there is no consolation.
Some of the relatives who have written just want explanations, and perhaps redress, even if these things have become impossible. One woman, a successful media executive, wrote with great tenderness and much anger about her beloved sibling whom she could now do nothing to help. He was abused for years. More like murder. I started to Google the links between abuse and mental illness — and there it all was.
By the time the police finally started investigating my brother he was psychotic, depressed, schizophrenic: whatever the labels were, his brain was like a series of exploding Bunsen burners. I have also contacted the police, in search of a sexually abusive teacher from my school, and I wanted to talk through the ramifications of this with Mary.
But the exposure that involves is fraught with psychological and practical risks. Mary is well aware of those problems. She is of the stiff-upper-lip generation — which, of course, is part of the root of the problem with this whole issue. Ignoring the unacceptably ugly is deeply rooted in the class and its culture, Mary and I both agree. Mary is particularly driven by the fact that the jury that convicted Y, and the judge who sentenced him, never heard what he had done to her brother. I literally had to beg him not to as then he would go to prison, too.
When your life feels like a movie you know something is very wrong. Y was in prison for 12 years and I have found him on the sex offenders register. But I just feel that 12 years was not nearly long enough. He ruined my brother. It was a gross misplacing of trust which my parents in no way deserved. And if he is alive, you have to worry if someone else is now suffering I ask her if she really wants to pursue Y.
She is doubtful. There is a further thing. Y was married. Is that a reason to feel some sense of forgiveness? Would you forgive a serial killer because of his unhappy childhood?
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