In short, Herald was the 'journalism school' where I learnt all the elementary tricks of the trade. But what set apart this journalism school was its sense of applied practical nightmares. None wanted you to come up with a neat circle. If it got a reader's attention, rhombus would do, this I learned from the Herald. The continuous slogging on the desk, day in and day out, soon scratched away the sheen off a 'oh-you-are a journalist' comment and introduced me to a world of words. This wordy world consisted of stories and stories, each of them carrying a life of their own, each one clamouring for attention. The more attention a story deserved, the higher in the page it appeared. The less attention the story received, down in the scale you go. My 'studies' did not end with desk itself. I did my internship on the field as 'unofficial special stories reporter'. The love for writing prompted me to scan the paper for interesting news and do follow-up on these. This in the long run gave me the rich experience of a deskie as well as reporting, something which no journalism school would probably offer. But I was not prepared for all this when I applied for the job of a sub-editor. Neither was I prepared for a question like 'Do you know English?', when I came for the interview. Asking a question like this to someone who has applied for a job in an English-language daily does seem to be a strange question. But the interviewer was Rajan Narayan, the editor of Goa's oldest daily. I was almost in a stupor after meeting the man whom I had admired for over a decade. But this was an interview and I stumbled out an answer. Thankfully, the interview was very short and soon Rajan introduced me to the then Deputy News Editor of Herald, Francis Ribeiro, who after initial hiccups became my friend and mentor. Francis Ribeiro's hand was in a crepe bandage when I first shook hands with him: Later on I came to know that he broke his hand in an unsuccessful attempt to jump over a bull while riding his scooter on the road to Saligao at night. Not even in my nightmares had I ever seen myself sitting in the office of the Herald happily churning out copies or giving headlines to stories which thousands of readers would read the next day. But this happened on December 31, 1996. Since then, my innings in the Herald was full of excitement. Not even one single unnecessary off, as Francis would put it. My tryst with the Herald began as a reader though. Those were my school days in Don Bosco, Panjim. Coming to think of it now, it does seem to be a strange coincidence that I joined Don Bosco school in 1983 as a fifth standard student, a few months before the Herald was launched as an English-language daily.