The Final Countdown

Well its been two months since the Chief Convener hit upon the grand idea of a reunion. And just a few days away from D day I am delighted to note that almost 70 of us will be gathering at the Opus this Sunday.

A lot of thought and effort has gone into making this event a success. The first task before us was to list out all our classmates. Names came up which were long forgotten and every name had some story attached. We'd narrate stories to each other and hopefully we'll have enough time to recollect all of them this Sunday.

Its been a wonderful experience talking to those lost friends and seeing those familiar faces all over again. I hope to see all of you there and maybe some last minute suprises as well...they're most welcome...

A final word for the Non Resident alumni.. If they wish they can send over their customised video messages and we'll play it out at the venue and make sure that your message gets across to everyone present (just like at the Oscars).

I am really looking forward to this one.. See you all at the Opus

Cheers
BISI

NPS Diaries

A Curious Interlude

Our ‘beloved erstwhile prefect’ who shares his name with the Congress scion was notorious for being a selective recluse. An insider who is now a part of the ‘upper strata of the Bangalore Glitterati’ was once left stranded on the 2^nd floor of our ‘prefect’s’ Domlur flat after the latter discovered (through the key hole) that our socialite friend has audaciously tried to circumvent his citadel of privacy. He even proudly advertised about how Shiten and the other two buddies accompanying him were given the treatment they deserved. One late afternoon some years back, Anand R Bhat and I hunted down the new residence of Mr Prefect who had challenged people (read ACE buggers) to find his house. The investigations, we decided has to be done on the pretext of a morning jog. At about 7:00 AM we got started on our mission. We jogged all the way till the New Tippasandra Post Office, which was the only known co-ordinate at that time. Preliminary enquires with watchmen in the area revealed that there were 4 newly build apartments in that area. The first apartment we tried was one next to Poorna Pragya school, but there was nobody there matching our prefect’s description. Following that, we decided to change directions and took a narrow winding road a little ahead from the post office where we spotted an apartment which had just received a new coat of paint. The watchman who was an affable ‘Nepali’ was at first reluctant to share information about the inhabitants but consented when we tactfully bribed him with a warm ‘hot dog’ from the near by Sweet Chariot. Our description matched with a person who lives with his family on the 2^nd floor he told. And that was our moment of crowing glory (even sweeter than the reception we received when we entered class the next day). We knew we had our man. In the afternoon we made calls to all those keen on a sting operation, and collectively we reached the second floor. Prefect’s house was the last down the wing.  We rang the bell and then leaned away from the key hole fully aware of the dire consequences of not doing so. No one appeared. Worried, we began to knock on the door. Then pound it. The door swung open. There stood the ‘beloved prefect’, busted!  A shadow of surprise crossed his face, as he reluctantly ushered us in. His voice had a palpable reverberation. "Why didn't you knock?" he said. "I got tired of waiting for you, and nodded off for a moment."

Old School High

Is there anything to match the nostalgia and romance of revisiting your old school? True, one gets maudlin and sentimental about bunking classes, protecting lunch from eternally hungry friends, getting "six of the best" from the principal a man with negotiable scruples, lusting unsuccessfully after girls, enjoying the dirty tuck shop grub (generally Sagar or Wafes) and last but not the least recollecting the shivers of  Ida Ma’am’s history quizzes and ‘worming of answers’.

The excuse this time is a class reunion. As readers of this blog will confirm, I don’t have much of an education, but the little knowledge I gathered was at my old school. NPS taught me almost all I know about life: don’t take yourself too seriously, laughter is the key to cheerful living, convictions and beliefs do not come from slogans and dogma but from the air one breathes, craving for well-cooked food is a sign of refinement.... It is said that you only make real friends in your school days. That is true for me. The days of school are surely the days of glory!

The author is a bon vivant, professional people watcher.