REUNION FEST

A mail from the alma mater had set all abuzz. Forwards flew thick and fast to friends who were on the mailing list. Suddenly, the urgency to add more links was felt. Facebook, Linkedin, Orkut etc became handy tools to ferret out names. Unfortunately, the names were not etched in the mind and most friends were remembered by their nicknames. The constraint was to be overcome and things had to be worked out and it was finally to happen on a Saturday in the end of November.

Another mail came in asking whether any one could volunteer to pick the coupons for the day. Issue was who could do so with minimal deviations and the figures were to be confirmed. Finally a short list of seven was drawn and I went to pick the coupons. On reaching the school, the security told me that the entr was permitted only from the other gate. A rediscovery of the routes was made through a ceremonial tour of the parking lot to reach the counter. Rushing through the things had made me forget basic things and I just chose to ask whether alumni coupons were available and on the slightest nod of the head, I asked for seven of them handing the money over the counter. The young lad who was tearing the coupons asked me to tell how many veggies and how many were not. Well this was a true bouncer. Couple of them I was sure were non-veg but Saturday was a question and others I was not sure which they would have converted. Sheepishly, I told him that I would inform him of the same after getting in touch with my friends. The lad looked puzzled. Still in uniform, he did not understand that over a period of time the time tested friendship would last but certain nuances of day to day life would be lost. One thing I could assure him was friends would not make an issue out of it and at best may use it as a stick to beat their old chum which was anyway acceptable. After all what would a reunion mean if one could not relive school brawls.

The day finally arrived. One of friends drove in to pick me up. We travelled back in memory when we used to travel in a factory bus for school kids ( well can afford to use the term kids) through the old misty Bangalore with all the chatter that would bug any driver no end to reach the school and imagine now the luxury of the four wheeler but the roads were packed giving us the feel that we were probably much slower.

The vehicle finally veered into the grounds of the school and with a cricket match on, a safe place was identified for parking and as we alighted from the vehicle we were greeted by Shashi a batchmate and with nostalgia filled we made our way towards the canteen and took the aisle down to the middle school grounds. Reaching the venue, we were told that a process of registration had been set up and we were given a label bearing our name and batch. A novel way to aid friends who may be meeting after the passage of a couple of decades. Pasting the badges on us we moved into the crowd to see another person the Shahrukh Khan of our times Vivek exchanging pleasantries with the Principal of our times. As we exchanged notes, our attention swirled to an elderly person being helped by a lady to make his way into the quadrangle. The tag on his shirt pocket read "1947". Boy!!! That should call for the HIP HIP HURRAYS!

The school bells rang to remind us of those good days and soon the ceremonies started by placing the Principals of the present and past on the dias along with the alumni officebearers. Speakers took turns to emphasise the importance of the gathering and marked the third Sunday of February as the Alumni day. Soon, it was the turn to felicitate the oldest teacher available , Mr Venkararaju and also the young man who left the portals of the institution as recently as 1947, a few months before Independence and a few years before we were born. This made us determined to see a full class get together at the earliest. Plans whispered we applauded the young gentlemen and then turned attention to the pick of some alumni recounting their days. Nostalgia in the form of cheers, jeers and chatter reverberated in the quadrangle.

The grace and charm of Ms D' Sa remained untouched by time. She had moved on to become the Principal and now a former Principal. By all accounts she remained the cynosure. Batches from the seventies to the twenty first century vied with each other for a snap. The charming lady obliged without a murmur. The streak of grey and the effort to climb the stairs were the only signs that betrayed her age lest she remained the uncrowned charismatic personality to the unabashed men around her.

Soon the dias made way for a cultural presentation. A multilingual dance performance by the students of the present day to their peers was the one to set the tempo. But the feast was yet to come. Drums were being circulated and soon a young energetic fellow took stage and started an interactive session with the tambolas. Young and old alike were swept into the music frenzy. Even the much feared principal of our days was seen to be sticking to the beats on his drum. This gesture from him made the atmosphere all the more festive. The crowd soon was enraptured in the beats. Chants of once more rent the air. Oh boy!!! the idea was novel but the spirit was old. Josephites made merry and soon it was dinner time followed by farewell time. Yes a farewell till a new re union.

FAITH AND TOIL is the school motto. Hopefully, the faith of the Josephites and the toil will restore the alumni to its good old days.