Web Special: Some memories

~ Kanika Chopra Grover

The whole reunion thing brought a lot of memories flooding back, I think it was the mention of bunsamosas that did it. I had thought of MHS as a small chapter in my life, something that I’d managed to live through and walk away from, with a few good friends, some good memories, some not so good....

I didn’t feel a part of this reunion, didn’t realise how much MHS meant to me, felt it was “your” school not mine, I just passed through. But you know what? it was mine as well. Not coming to this reunion will be a regret.

I came from an all girls’ school, nerdy, unfashionable, in awe of all of you privileged types. S6 was a miserable year, will not dwell on it. Suffice to say, I remember some people who were especially kind, thanks Vikram, you brightened many a miserable day.

But something happened in S7. I think the school finally got to me. I always felt later that modern was a school, which, if any child had any talent, managed to bring it out. What changed? Why did the shy, awkward, reticent me suddenly decide to run for house captain? I don’t know, but I won the election fair and square.

The Rajasthan trip. What was it you said GB, I was the “discovery” of the trip. A lot of things you said about me stuck in my memory you know, “ slow on the uptake”, ok but burey phatte bahut marti hai”.

Life was different for the next few months. I loved being with you all, your awful puns GB, Haris’s constant double meanings, Punya’s sheer crazy brain power, Hartosh’s gentle humour and Suri’s attitude. And Mahip how beautiful you were! And Poonam you were not a “grinning idiot” you were light hearted, how much we all laughed, sitting in the front lawns...

The house function. It meant a lot to me you know, that we had “the most successful house function of the year”. And how everyone worked! The flower arrangements, the costumes, the sets, the performances. I sang, at a time when I couldn’t speak for Laryngitis! Still a regret though, couldn’t treat everyone afterwards, the remaining funds mysteriously disappeared. I didn’t handle that well; I was too shocked at the audacity, too heartsick that some people thought I had taken the money. Besides there were the approaching Board exams. So busy preparing for the house function that I scored an Almighty 43% in maths! No, it was time to knuckle down and concentrate on studies.

And life moved on. Why did we not keep in touch? I really valued your friendship Chanda.

And Deepika, some of my best memories are roaming around Janpath with you. Do you remember the cake we shared in Kanishka with the cherry on top? I have never laughed so much in my life! We fell out over your photographs remember? I looked for them for years...

Anyway, to the present. I’m a Developmental paediatrician working with some of the most vulnerable children, married to a wonderful man, with three gorgeous children. Would love to get back in touch with the few people who might remember me.

Kanika Grover (Chopra)

Web Special: Those were the days .... my young friends!

Last year on a whim following the lead of my other friends, I decided to join the Facebook community little realizing how my life would never be the same again. Not only did I connect with long-lost relatives and friends all over the world, I actually connected after decades with my former students from days when I was a high school teacher in one of the best schools in not just India but I would say in the world.  Those were the happiest years of my life so much so that I was unable to go back to teaching high school anywhere else and instead chose another career path in the US - my home now since the time I left Modern in January 87.

Having recently connected with these erstwhile students from my past life, I am touched and honored at the affection they have shown me in inviting me to their twenty-five year reunion, so I would like to share below  a tribute that I actually wrote twenty-five years ago and which was also published in Sandesh when this batch, my first, was graduating from Modern High School in 1984 and I was still teaching there. I am very grateful to one very alert student from that era who took the trouble to actually scan this article and send it to me -thank you-you know who you are!

Should you want to read more, I have incorporated a medley of these cherished Modern memories along with pictures in my personal blog which you can read at

Modern Memories @ RBK's Realm

Cheers and God bless each of you and your families!

Those were the days .... my young friends!

~ Raksha Bhandari Krishna (1984)

Bang, clatter, Thump .... Whoops .....

Please introduce yourself! 'What's her name? Where is she from?  Sh Shsh •••... Hoooo .....• Ha, Ha Ha' I stood stock still. trying to keep a bland expression under the barrage of out­rageous queries. 'Count ten Raksha, keep cool. Keep in mind your B. Ed training. Remember the educational psychology approach to adoles­cents'. So I muttered to myself, hoping my inner quavering was not evident to these precocious youngsters. That was my first day at Modern as a history teacher in three memorable years ago. The venue was the place of action ­Sir Sobha Singh Block. The class was supposed to be S5-F. OnIy it was an explosive mixture of pupils from other sections also who had flocked to witness the acute embarrassment of the new victim- a brand new history teacher. Somehow the day passed without untoward incident. The reception in other classes was in more or less the same voci­ferous tone. During the first few weeks, I with my convent school background went through a gamut of emotions-horror, indignation, flying rage, hurt and last but not the least amusement, all this observed with unholy glee by the unmerciful brats. Oh-I was informed later by a smart kid that I had passed the teacher intia­tion test very well. Small consolation indeed !

I joined Modern fresh from the University in September 1980 with a lot of misgivings as it was going through a rough period at that time. People had given me all kinds of dire warnings. But something edged me on (destiny I think) and I came prepared, or so I thought. It was not easy, I had to work hard, doubly so, since the resourceful students made it their duty to prepare not their lessons, but the ques­tions to grill me, especially the then S4D. Some of the questions really taxed my listed patience. Like while teaching THE STONE AGE, I told them that stone was used for wea­pons and tools. Prompt came the question, 'Ma'am what brand of stone?" etc. etc. Soon other luminaries followed suit, and my facial muscles would tire from the pleasant smile which became increasingly fixed as the mo­ments passed. Oh I soon learnt to fix these kids, by thinking up ingenious methods. One of the methods which worked was to dictate notes when finally in the din, I would manage to give my lecture but at a speed which even impressed them, before all hell broke loose. Gradually things became better. Of course they did resort to playful antics like suddenly in the peaceful atmosphere, there- would be a slow melodious whistling. I would look to the left, then the sound emerge from the right, till, I would be very vexed and they would take pity and stop. One helpful soul would tell me in a conspir­ational manner, that it was coming from outside. I would almost explode and shake my fist at them in a helpless attitude. The class would then resume. I think the class which excelled in these antics was then S4A.

I am thankful to Mrs. Joginder Singh for her unfailing support and shoulder which she lent me when I all but gave up. The kindly Mr. Juneja always bucked me up with his paternal advice 'You are a brave girl. Don't be so sensitive otherwise your blood pressure will increase.' Everyday seemed like a challenge. Every night I lay sleepless thinking novel devices to make the same ole Cro - Magnon Man and Bimarck interesting. Everyday I rebuked myself inwardly for being so volatile. Every­day I tried to loo,k genuinely angry in class when something in their mock serious expres­sions would make me burst into a hastily suppressed grin. I would turn towards the blackboard to compose my mobile face congratulating myself at my quick thinking, only to find I was sadly mistaken when some young chirpy voice would plaintively pipe up much to my dismay saying 'But you are laughing yourself ma'am'.

All these sentimental reminiscences are of the present outgoing S-7 for it was this affec­tionate and lively batch in the IX and later on in the X standards with which I started my high school teaching career in real earnest. I literally grew up with them from a easily hurt, quick tempered and impatient person to a less vulnerable, tough, confident and more understanding adult. These bright teens taught me to develop fantastic sense of humour and how to handle awkward situations with finesse. Talking about humour I recall how after two weeks in Modern after listening and observing intently a grave venerable young colleague, I too decided to imbibe the maternal image. So I too said 'son' (beta) to a big hefty brawny child towering over me in what I thought was a nonchalant manner. It resulted in an incredible silence followed by a roar of unanimous laughter from the children and a foolish expression on my face. Oh! you bet that season I never tried such maneuvers again. These children never failed to startle me with their sensitivity and little gestures of caring. Just when I though they passionately hated me, they would once again prove me wrong by their little acts of love. For instance on my birthday few weeks after joining school when I entered my classroom (I was the class teacher of S4F and later S5F) I was received with an exuberant Happy Birthday chorus followed with lovely bouquet flowers. Their counter-parts in other sections not to be left behind presented me with little posies of flowers and improvised cards. The much dreaded S4C (with which I had an interesting relationship) overwhelmed me with their warmth i.e., a solitary candle on a pastry smuggled from the Home Science Lab-of course! Putt­ing  it simply, it was just beautiful! Outside the school vicinity, if the pupils saw me, they would warmly great me and certainly make their presence felt with repeated louder than necessary greetings "Good evening Ma'am How are you? (When they had just been with me only a few hours back).

There were bad moments also, when tempers ran high and misunderstandings were rampant, when parents were called imme­diately to meet an irate inexperienced young teacher expounding her views of their errant offspring with a flourish and full emotional theatrics. I remember how one fine morning in 1981 I decided to steal my traitorous heart to weaker moments and called the parents of the unrepentant children of S5C who had decided to celebrate Diwali by bursting crackers in my classroom. I only ended up exhausting myself and earning the ferocious scowls of the injured innocents (as they considered themselves) while their parents looked at the youthful teacher in sympathy. But I was rather proud of my courage in taking them on as it was now not just a matter of my pride but survival in ensuring that the eagerly watching juniors knew that there were serious consequences for such actions. All that is a part of the learning game and these thoughts now really amuse me and I actually chuckle at my foolhardy bravado.

Memories flood my mind, but I shall wind off now by saying that teaching has literally been a two way process. I have taught and learnt from these young people. I have emer­ged a stronger individual (I hope so). I have not only survived rather well but am in fact thriving and totally involved in this lovely insti­tution. The best tribute I can ever pay is that if I were ever to go back to my own school days, I would love to study at Modern.

I will take this opportunity to wish the present S-7 aII the best in life. They shall do well as they are an extremely intelligent loving smart set of kids. I shall always treasure my memories of them and sincerely hope that none of them bear any hard feelings for the past rebukes and unavoidable unpleasantness.

The Road to Reunion 84

~ Kirti Gupta Seth

It was supposed to be a party to walk down memory lane much like all the batches before us.  The idea of talking about it one year in advance was simply to ensure that all the ‘firangis’ could make their travel plans appropriately and we could have maximum attendance.

But what an animal this Reunion has morphed into!  The one year of advance notice for ticketing actually turned into one year of advance preparation.  It began with the idea of the ‘Night Spend’.  All batches do a party – we need to be different – we shall do an overnighter.  Our batch started the trend of the reunions with the party at Alok Modi’s farm in 2002 so we will be raising the bar for all reunions to come.  The sports day idea took hold – skool to jaana padega.  And assembly – can we have a school reunion without Ram Nam Ras Peeje?  The one night @ party, turned into a 3 day mega event.

But it was a slow start.  Three months to go and only 45 bookings – 15 of those from the Organising Committee – we wondered if our reunion was going to be the biggest flop show.  Much dejection in the ranks.  The hotel rooms had been set aside – would they go empty?  The arrangements for sports day had begun – kaun ayega?  The hare brained idea of a S 32 Sandesh had been floated – with nary an article in sight.  Hans and Rohit kept the spirits up – 30 names from the NSCI gang were floated – “yeh sab ayenge, tu dekhna” – true Modernites to yahi hain.  Without that constant refrain, the mood would have gone from dejection to abject sorrow.

And then the magic happened – the mails started trickling in and the euphoria took hold.  Batchmates started emerging from the past.  Photos were dug out and we even got a couple of junior school ones.  Hell, even Raksha Bhandari uploaded some pictures of the batch!  People volunteered to write and the result is plain to see – a 30 page Sandesh, 25 years down?  Quite an achievement.

And in the background, the website went up – is there any other batch that has its own site?  Bhala, our techno whiz – efficiently transferred all communication to the site – one place where you could find it all?  The photos started pouring in – Varun must have had his scanners running 24 X 7 – all of us took the easy way out by sending him the photos – tu scan kar le yaar.  Amarjit’s phone bill will be a testimony to the toil of calling people again and again to ‘pay up nahin to rooms full ho jayenge’, Arjun floating around giving his freaky ideas – and actually making them happen by putting his office and his hotel at our disposal and going to school to pay up the long standing debt to Lata Vaidyanathan so she loves our batch again!

Vasundhara enthusiastically organizing the assembly program – we must have prayer, news and thought for the day! Ashwani, Piyush, Gaurav, Mahip – being there at every meeting or behind the scenes, working the phones, getting people on board – paise nahin diye?  Main deta hoon / deti hoon, us se baad mein le leenge.  Hans and Rohit – leaders of the largest old school gang that is still an old school gang!  4 trips to school to organize sports day and one whole day to convince the canteen to serve us!

And amid this frenzy of activity our very own Tinker Bell,  Manisha – the angel in Arjun’s office without who things would never have come together as they did.  From invitation designs, printing, tracking bookings, coordinating with the hotel, sending the invites to teachers, showing us ideas for gifts – what did this girl not do. ‘Manisha ko keh de yaar’ was the magic mantra. 

We are on the home stretch now with less than a week to go.  The Sandesh is done, the photos are scanned, the teachers invitations have been sent and received, the momentos made, the banners designed, the menus planned, the song list made, the program written, the sports kit organized.  All that remains is to meet on the 25^th and re-live Modern in 1984.

The Importance of being a Modernite!

~ Aditi Sahai

The thing about having an elephant's memory is that you remember minute details about things that happened in school way back to the first standard. I am fortunate to have other 'elephant minded' friends (Alpana, Ritika, Rupika) and meeting them and reminiscing about 'old times' has become one of the must do events of every trip that I make to Delhi.

I suppose every school evokes fond memories amongst its students. However I can't think of a single other school that has such a lethal combination of excellence - in every aspect. Apart from the usual academics, sports etc etc, which other school can compete in sheer goondagardi, badmashi and the wild west- ness of Modern School - at least of our era. Bunking class, sneaking off to BM for chaat or Refugee Market for chai and samosas, sitting for hours in the naali next to the basketball court, playing rowdy holi, taking pangas with teachers even getting suspended en masse in the 10th standard for setting off patakas in class. Can any other school top that????

Okay so I'm talking about the antics of the erstwhile 'C' section home of many luminaries. Maybe we were particularly deviant and many of you did not partake of such dubious and multifarious opportunities presented by the school. But it would be hard to find a Modernite impervious to the charms of the red brick building and its vast sprawling fields. I don't know how old the building is but the quaint charm of the 'howlers' (why on earth did they get that name?!) linking the long snaking corridors, the classrooms with their adjoining verandah's, the somewhat strange wooden bridge leading to the girls loo, the geography class perched in one corner presided over by the formidable Juggi (one of my favourite teachers), the banyan tree, the red bajri, the pigeons flying atop the rafters of Shankarlal Hall. I could go on and on.

Over the years nostalgia has tinged all these memories with a warm fuzzy glow. I live in Mumbai. I suppose living away from the old hometown makes all opportunities to meet old friends even more special. I miss the comfort of randomly bumping into people one has known since the year dot, or of evenings that are steeped in chatter about 'those days'. Life moves on and so do we. But whatever we do or wherever we go it is not possible to take the "Modern" out of us. The camaraderie, the friendships, the 'never let the side down' spirit, the sheer joy of being a Modernite. That is something that will remain with us forever!

A School That Stays With You

~ Vikram Jamalabad

Years and miles removed, memories of school sometimes flash through like faded Eastman color slides.  Dear friends meet up, many from twelve formative years, and time melts away.  It seems like yesterday that we were bunking classes, horsing around at break time, and sweating finals. The School forms a backdrop to all this, silent, but ever present.

Twenty five years later, and with much reminiscing to look forward to during the reunion, my thoughts turn to the school itself.  A quarter of our lives were spent here and its influence is a constant un-acknowledged presence in our lives.

My earliest memories always seem cloudy and cool and of lasting friendships made on the very first day. Those constant companions of early ‘oonch-neech’ sessions in E1 slowly morphed into S7 scientists with endeavoring to evaluate the influence of two-stroke engines on sperm count.  And the school was always there with just the gray Junior backdrop changing to a Senior red. 

It is Thanksgiving here in the States, an ordained time in this structured society to dole out thanks to all comers.  While I have studiously avoided celebrating this forced eruption of feeling, going back to this place in my mind after so long has prompted some interesting thoughts.   Our School provided something to us that is tangible and fundamental and has formed a core in us that we may not always acknowledge. 

It started the moment we got to School.  Morning prayers, a ‘satsang’ to start the day, focused us on a collective calmness.  It was not obvious then, but the value of this simple activity is profound.  Even today, a short session of meditation unlocks the potential of the day to come.   The beauty of the prayer session was its ability to set aside all that could potentially separate us and instead highlight of all that is common.  What a master stroke by the Founders. Then there were those shoddy uniforms, at times craftily subverted by the stylish amongst us.  Uncomfortable sack cloth they may have been, but they served a constant reminder that we are all fundamentally the same.  None is better, none is worse.  And no one will best by who they are, but by what they do.  So, how does one get fitted for a jacket from Madras Tailors now?  Or, at least a tie I can wear proudly to work?

Added on were those reluctant classes of music, art and sculpture, and even more reluctant attendance to the dance, drama and classical music performances.   I laugh when I think of clamouring to exit the Shankar Lal Hall as Dagar-sahib sonorously droned on with his beloved Rudra Veena.  A poster child for ‘bhains ke aagay been bajay, bhains khadi paguray”.  I look back now and wonder at all the beauty we were exposed to, but some chose to ignore.   Ironic that so much of what we ran from then forms such a large part of our lives now. And what I can say about the teachers?  I apologize for my part in the ridicule and terror dished out, but let’s be honest, we did have a fair share of clowns! 

For the most part, though, the patience and perseverance demonstrated by them I only came to respect when dealing with my own rambunctious crowd of undergraduates.  Ms Nigam, Ms Sharma, Ms Talwar and Mr Binju – to name a few – wherever you are, thanks so much for all the work and all the effort and understanding.

So where am I going with this? Just that it is not about missing school, or missing the experience. It is about having something unique with me that only Modern could have provided.  Something that is complete, balanced and enriching – quite unlike I have seen anywhere else.   And that something has been an integral part of me wherever I have been – so I could not say that I miss the School.  A unique School, and shared with so many, so not a unique experience. Thanks for that MHS. Truly, thanks!

18 years & counting!

~ Aditya Seth


As life becomes shorter & memory grows

Looking back at all the brickbats & blows

Always acted without much thought

Never knowing what the future holds.

Having said that, I can proudly say that those 12 years of growing up in MHS were really the best years of my life. Nothing really mattered, no great pressure to perform, no worries, yes passing those damn exams was important, they still are, but honestly it was never really serious because for me school was not a centre for education it was a place to have fun. A ceaseless celebration of life where whether “tomorrow comes or not”, never really mattered. It was a mixed bag of highs & lows, adolescence is a difficult & complicated phase of life, but in the overall analysis, it was simply great. I dedicate this piece to all my partners in crime over the years.

Once when under provocation from some, I tore the White Card (blasphemy) in P5 (RSJMS) given to me by Mrs. Chandra for running in the corridor. If I remember right I was racing Manoj Kumar Gupta to class after Break. Then I was made to stand in front of Mrs. Sachdeva’s office, Mrs. Chandra had decided to make an example out of me, since I refused to accept, when she claimed that, “main tumhari ma ke jaisi hoon beta”. Eeeks, poor mom, had to come to school for the nth time to pacify her howling son & scowling teacher.

Going further back in time I recall an incident from P2, rather heroic. Mrs. Neena Kaushal was our class teacher, one obnoxiously stuck up babe. We did a play, I’m not sure whether it was Annual day or House Function. Anyways, I was Robin Hood & my cousin Sandeep Srinivasan was the Demon King. I was supposed to vanquish him with arrows & rescue the damsels in distress Alpana Kishore, my first crush ever & Mahip Grewal. Now I was armed with this toy Bow & Arrow & everyone, especially Neena Kaushal was petrified that I would actually shoot & injure her poor darling Sandeep while performing those great acts of valour, since I had injured him during rehearsals, he however escaped, unscathed.

It’s funny how the guys one hung around with in school & took for granted one is the most distanced from now. I’m cutting in time yet again, this time going ahead to S6. One of our favorite pastimes used to be to bunk school, go to my place & watch Pornographic (blue) films. It actually all began in S4 & I remember that the impact on us was quite devastating, being the first time for most of us & we were all mentally stripping & ….. every girl/ woman we saw after that. The reason that these sessions used to happen at my place was primarily because I was fortunate enough to own a Video & my place happened to be walking distance from school, of course not to forget that both my parents used to work & therefore were never home.

So on one of those days, when someone (really don’t remember who) had brought a really “hot” film & all our juvenile hormones were pumping overtime in anticipation, we bunked as usual & headed home.

When we reached home I found that my parents had locked their bedroom therefore denying us all access to our proposed voyeuristic excesses since the Video was in there. I refused to yield to this lockout & as usual with unstinted support from some of you broke the lock & enjoyed the flick. But alas it didn’t end there, my mother was furious &; no amount of excuses worked. There was a test-match on that day, she couldn’t care less that we were dying to see the match & that we had only done that because our classes for the day were over. She decided to throw me out of the house & in the hostel, it was petrifying to suddenly be confined to a corner & to share one’s room with others, thankfully it blew over & I lived to salivate another day.

Let’s not forget the all time favorite pastime, watching movies. Sandy Aggarwal, Dicky Singh & I spent more time watching movies than preparing for our 12th boards. In fact the influence of movies & our implicit faith in them was so strong that Dhanno & I watched “Far from the madding crowd” rather than read the novel to appear for our 1st term English Elective Exam &; would you believe it, passed! Sandy those days was being given the cold shoulder by his childhood sweetheart Gauri, she happened to be the hottest thing going in Modern Vasant Vihar those days. Anyways, Gauri’s brother was Sandy’s best pal, he was trying to play cupid & reunite the two estranged lovers. One morning we three as usual bunked & went to Chanakya to watch a supposedly intellectual movie which had a lot of nudity in it, no guesses for what we went for.

When the movie got over & we were walking out, Sandy’s future brother-in-law picked someone’s pocket & showed it to us later with great pride, so much for education, I was, to say the least, frightened & appalled.

A movie experience that lasted longer than usual was with Atul Kumar & Aman Sood. We bunked, we went, we saw movie, came back to school as if nothing had happened & were hit by this thunderbolt called Rita Talwar, who was looking out for Atul. She made us literally rub our noses on the floor of her Lab. Height of humiliation anyone….!?

There have been innumerable such incidents, some in class, some outside but all memorable & educative in their own way. I’m sure you all remember these & much more, those wonder years which have gone forever over a long time ago.

Never despaired when the summit seemed too high

Hope always emerged & transcended me beyond the skies. 

A Shark in Your Tank !

~ Anu Dang Bhandari


When Kirti requested me to pen down my thoughts for S-32, I jumped at the chance. however when i took hold of the pen (no computers for me!), I realised that I was high on emotions and short on words.

Today, 15 days, 25 sheets and 2 pens later, I am writing an article related to what I teach to a bunch of 150 students every year at D.P.S R.KPuram (our arch rival school) - Management or what was known as "good ol' commerce" in our days.

You might be surprised to read this as I was a nerdy science student in school. But life takes its routes and ways to take you to your ultimate destiny and mine was teaching a course in Business Studies to class XII students.

Before i go further, I want to say 'I love what I do' and that is talking, chatting, teaching, explaining, discussing and arguing with 16-17 year olds. I would not change it for anything else in this world.

So here goes- My favourite management story which is my opening lecture for all class XII students titled 'FRESH/STALE FISH'; which is about the Japanese fishing industry.

The Japanese have always had a great liking for fresh fish. However unfortunately the waters close to Japan shores do not have fish. So the fishing boats had to travel far to bring back fish to feed the Japanese population. Due to large distances, the fish became stale by the time it reached the market.

To overcome this problem, fishing companies installed freezers on their boats. But the Japanese could taste the difference between fresh and frozen fish which was sold at a lower price. (what sensitive taste buds!).

The Japanese who do not believe in giving up, then installed fish tanks where they stuffed the fish, fin to fin. After a little hashing around, the fish would stop moving. They stayed alive but became tired and dull.

Unfortunately the “nakhrewala” Japanese could still taste the difference. They preferred the lively taste of fresh fish to sluggish fish. The Japanese fishing industry faced in impeding crisis.

However it soon got over that crisis and fishing has emerged as one of the important trades in that country.

HOW DID THE JAPANESE CONQUER THIS PROBLEM?

They put the fish in the tanks as before but started adding a small shark to each tank. The shark chased the fish, managed to eat a few but the rest survived and arrived in a lively state

The challenge they faced kept them constantly on the move and fresh. This fish became the most sought after and commanded a higher price.

- Humans are no different!

Man thrives only in the presence of a challenging environment.

As George Bernard Shaw said, "Satisfaction is Death".

And Anu Bhandari says, "If you are constantly challenged, you stay energized and alive. Do not postpone a task because it is challenging. Learn to meet the challenge."

Do not simply create success and revel in it in a state of inertia.

PUT A SHARK IN YOUR TANK AND SEE HOW FAR YOU CAN REALLY GO.

Please share this story with your children.

It maybe the best gift you would have ever given them.

Ephemeral snippets of ordinary memories

~ Gaurav Suri


Welcome, fellow time travelers. By sheer will power we've turned back the calendar to 1984. It was a difficult thing. We can’t quite re-create the Banyan tree, or the early morning assembly or the bun-samosas in Bengali market; but no matter. We’re here.

For those of you who don’t remember me, or never knew me, I was not the star athlete or the amazing guitarist; I was not a prefect or a topper; I was not thought of as particularly hip or particularly cool or most likely to succeed, or wittiest, or friendliest or anything else. [God knows I should have been voted best looking!]  Like many of you, I was just a guy ― interested in, well, girls, and not much else. I was passing the time, waiting for the next thing. And yet, without noticing, something amazing happened. In those quiet years I formed what abide as the best friendships of my life. I know this is true for many of us and I think this is why we’re excited about coming back together and hanging out. [And also checking out who has gotten really fat or really bald].

An hour ago—trying to get in the mood to write this piece—I looked through our class roster. Some names had a snippet of visual memory attached to them—usually something completely irrelevant like Himanshu (may he rest in peace) dancing away on our class trip to Siliser, or Rahul Somani’s curly hair and gangly build; other names were so completely familiar and yet, frustratingly, there was no memory of a corresponding face—only the recollection of an incident. For example I vividly remember discussing the movie ‘Aas Paas’ with Pavan Chandra on a Monday morning.  We had both seen it the weekend before and were cracking jokes about the pun on ‘aas’ [as in arse]. Mujhe hamesha aas ke paas rehna hai, he had said.  I can totally hear his laugh. And yet I can’t see his face, only his black framed glasses.  Other names have an emotion attached to them, but nothing else; these are the strangest.  For Hukum Singh all I remember is him being a sturdy, dependable stand up kind of guy, and that’s all—no visual memory, and no memory of a specific incident. [I do notice that I have much less trouble recalling the girls. And, yes, I am thinking of you Mahip, and you Poonam, and you Vasundhara, and you Samina -- though you left before the ripening years]

Despite these ephemeral snippets of ordinary memories, I have this unshakeable notion that what happened in those fateful growing up years was inordinately important, even blessed. And it is. We, the Barakhamba class of 1984, are an authentic slice of history.  And we are connected in this history: we are forever bound by a common time, a common place, and a shared set of experiences.  I’ve often thought that it would be great to see a picture that somehow mapped out the trajectory of each of our lives, the turning points, the wins and the losses, the highs and the lows; a picture of the great stories and the awful mistakes and the few shreds of hard-won wisdom.  Maybe this 25th reunion will begin to draw out that picture.

Modern, an idea whose time is here

~ Kunal Sethi

S-7E (+ 25 Yrs and counting)

Its almost twenty years (or more) since I have picked up a pen to write something from the heart (unless you count the love letters I wrote while courting my wife to be!).  Nostalgia however is a funny thing. Most of the times it is selective amnesia, which allows all happy memories an outlet. It makes us feel good about the past or selective parts of what has gone before. It often covers up as much as it professes to admit.

However, most of the times we are so caught up in the day to day problems we all face that we tend to forget all the good times.  Nostalgia is therefore a means to go back in the past and forget the immediate reality. And school days is that part of the childhood which hold some of the happiest memories in my heart.

The easiest way to write this article is to slip into reminiscences of those days. The memories are so many, varied and happy that one does not know where to start and where to end. From the start of the ‘Modern Era’, in Humayun Road to Vasant Vihar from where I did my 10^th and to Barakhamba where school finally ended; the memories are endless.

The memories encompass a lot of teachers (including the ‘Principal’ ones; MN Kapoor, Ved Vyas and Bakshi), Friends: from the first crush in class one, lost in the mists of time to those with whom I continue to share my sorrows, hardships and joys to date (Here is to you Sanjeev Haldia!).

The incidents range from my first day in Barakhamba in S6, where I was relieved of my wallet to throwing chalks in class and hitting the teacher with it creating a first class row in the school discipline in charge’s class room. Learning to play Hockey and graduating to be able to play Hooky from Talli’s class to play Khokho and cheer the girl’s basketball team playing a match in an all girls school. The memories encompass all of my school life starting from knickers and finally passing out in pants.

However after looking back 25 years, while these people and incidents are as alive in my mind as when I left school and have helped define me as a person (Modernite?), they do not by themselves define what it was about Modern School that I have loved and which makes me extremely proud to be a Modernite.

When I look back what I realise is that Modern was an Idea nurtured in the buildings and more importantly in the people (teachers and students alike) associated with this great institution. In an age when discussions on curriculum, rote learning, teaching methodology were not common, everyday news items and internet chat topics here was a school which did what a lot of schools still do not even think of.

In the times where all that mattered was your marks and schools were generally places where corporal punishment to assure studiousness among the pupils was an accepted norm only one institution stood out. Modern School offered all types of sports and extracurricular activities to students along with the daily dose of rote learning. The sports and extra curricular activities were not just window dressing but allowed those who were serious about them to pursue them in school hours.

This in today’s jargon translates to a school (or educational institution) which allows children to find out their strengths and weaknesses and experiment with different vocations before deciding what they want to become or the goals they want to pursue, Modern to my mind is the idea which allows creativity to flourish and gave the kids who were lucky enough to attend it the freedom of choice to decide on their future plans and the ability to pursue them.

My children do not study in Modern School and I let them know, on a daily basis, that I attended the best school (their mother’s and their objections not withstanding). However the true victory of Modern is that I look for the Idea that Modern is to me in all the schools that they have studied in. If the school they study in can nurture that and make them happy adults with brilliant memories of school and thinking individuals capable of making their own choices I would have passed down the best of my schooling to them.

So from the heart, Hail MHS specially “Class of 84” that made this journey so exciting and happy. Join me in a toast to the institution which lives on in our hearts 25 years after we left it. God Speed and to all of you and in a pilot’s lingo all the best wishes:     

May the number of your Landing always equal the number of your Take Offs.

The next 25 years

~ Mayank Goyal

Meeting after 25 years...1984-2009: a lot has happened. We are in our forties, most of us are married, worked hard towards a successful career and family. A lot has happened in the world as well. Not counting a few minor hiccups, the world continues to get nicer, safer by all measures.  The predictability of life in general continues to increase. Life expectancy continues to grow. Of course, probably the biggest accomplishment of the last 25 years has been in the field of communication whether it be cell phones, Blackberrys, iPhones or internet.  Then there are those issues that haven’t progressed as much as one would have liked them to: human rights, poverty, energy crisis, religious conflict.

The rate of change varies across different parts of the world at different times in history. Clearly, India is one of the happening places right now with dramatic growth not just in wealth but in education, equality, democracy and human rights. In the middle of all this where have we spent our time. Probably a significant part of our energy has been in building a career whether professional or setting up a industry, understanding the rules of the game, adapting to the dramatically changing environment and in addition, finding the right life partner, having kids and watching them grow. Full of challenges, accomplishments, fun and sorrow, up and downs.....and has gotten us to here.

But what about the next 25 years: what will we look back to at our 50 year get together or to put in another way what should be aim to create in the next 25 years that would be fun to look back at in 2034. Some trends look unstoppable: communications will improve, world will continue to get hotter (in spite of the best efforts of the environmentalists), smaller and flatter; importance of education both for the individual and the society as a whole shall be an ever increasing determinant of prosperity and lifestyle. War (at least in the traditional sense) shall continue to become rarer. Just to spend a little time on a current hot topic: the environment. There are more unknowns than knowns although some would say that is true for any situation trying to predict the future. However the likelihood of humans getting it together to reverse the driving forces for global warming seems slim at the current moment.  India shall play an ever increasing role on the world stage. Journalistic and individual freedom of speech in India is reaching maturity and reaching a stage of irreversibility. It will play an ever growing counterforce to unreasonable political will and (in the absence of good opposition at the parliamentary level) shall represent one of the greatest forces of democracy.

On the resource front things can go in several directions. There may be some massive shift in energy resources solving the whole energy crisis. In some ways it is amazing that there is an energy crisis given all the energy surrounding us; the chair that i am currently sitting on probably has sufficient energy (e=mc2) to feel whole of Delhi for a month. The question is whether we can tame that energy and utilize it. Similarly there does not seem to be a shortage of wind or solar energy either. However, in my opinion what is more likely over the next 25 years is a slow dramatic change towards meeting the world’s growing energy needs.

It is unlikely that the demand for oil/gas is going to suddenly reduce but instead shall be complimented by a whole variety of alternative energy sources (so, if you a long term investor.......you know where to go!).


Religiosity as a whole can also go in several directions. In general terms, education especially scientific education is inversely proportional to religiousness of society. However, I get a distinct feeling that the last decade has shown significant increase in religious fervour. How it would affect us individually as we enter our middle years would, of course, be highly variable. 

A few words on health care: in general terms the biggest advancements in health care over the last century have been: clean water, vaccines and antibiotics. Over the last 25 years, the biggest change has been in organization and delivery of health care and secondly, an increase in understanding of the human body and disease processes. Many of these advancements have yet to reach their full potential. As an example, the human genome project has been successfully completed but has, for the most part, yet to reach practical usefulness. Concepts around nanotechnology are reaching maturity. Some of the earliest versions of nano-bots are being tried. Targeted drug therapy using nano-vehicles are being developed. So where is this going to go over the next 25 years: probably increasingly towards individualized medicine. The process of disease is an interaction between the host (you or me), the agent (such as a virus) and the environment (drinking unclean water). The last century has focussed on the agent (kill it with antibiotics) or the environment but hardly on the host. Traditional teaching has been centred on treatments based on an understanding of the environment or the agent eg. Diagnose pneumonia and treat it with antibiotics, doesn’t matter whether it is Mr. A or Mrs. B. This is where I feel that is going to be the greatest change wherein we understand the host better based on a whole list of factors including their genetics, personality, will to fight etc. This would apply on the preventive side as well: more and more people will pay attention to modifiable risk factors....smoking, obesity, exercise, antioxidants, vitamin D, omega 3, Sudoku, and the list goes on.

On a personal front we would all be in our late sixties, hopefully healthy and looking forward to meeting again. Kids would be grown up having their own lives and struggles probably thinking of their own 10 year reunions. Many of us would be grandparents. Many of us would be retired.  Will the next 25 years would be a general natural extension of the last 25 or would they be dramatically different? An indutrialist who currently employs 100 would try to reach 250, would a teacher continue to teach but just aim to do it better, would a physician do generally the same job but keep with the changing technology? Or some of us will try new careers and adventures and aim to really follow our dreams that probably wasn’t possible over the last quarter decade for most.  Some of these are simple: travel the world, read a lot of books, learn to play a musical instrument, start playing golf etc. Some of them are relatively complicated: go back to university and do a PhD in world history, or learn to fly a plane or run an orphanage or write a book.....what makes you tick? So what are you going to do?

I leave with a quote from Einstein: “I don’t like to make predictions especially about the future”.  

No harm in trying anyway. Comments and discussion are always welcome......

Silver sounds

~ Poonam Madan

For someone hesitant to go public with her personal thoughts, the two decades and a half have lifted that veil somewhat. If writing for Sandesh is a benchmark, that is. I never did while at school but am doing so 25 years later. It seems to me an incidental yet important reflection of the then and now.

Those years would have meant incremental shaping for many, and they would have thrown up game-changers for some of us. When Kirti sent me an indicative brief, one of the themes, quite logically, was ‘what you expected of life when you were at school and what you actually experienced’. That did trigger thoughts, Kirti, but the stock-taking would be more of a ramble, especially with no baseline, in hindsight.

It was not for me to have then known my lodestar.

I amiably ambled through school, classes and conversations, circumscribed by the absence of a lived-in worldview. Much that I did was merely to ease the passing of time.

I can recall some intersections there, with Raj Batra taking strong exception to my amusement at her sanskriti lectures on grihasthi ke do pahiye, et al (I understand now what she meant though I still do not agree with the ordain of compromise at any cost), with Kona Roy taking very strong exception to my being a “grinning jackass” (I can’t at all remember what made me so delirious but I strongly empathise with her eloquent exposition about whole souls heaving up when unshackled from the monotony of industry). In balance, I think, Juggi’s expressive liking of my then avatar was a faith restorer, as was Talli’s subtle approval when I happened to meet her offline, in and around Khan Market.

I also ambled through with fleeting daydreams of being actively wooed by at least some of the guys, though my heart didn’t break when none did…

Yet, it was alongside the churning of people equations through S4D to S7F that I evolved as an individual, albeit half-baked. I have carried fond memories of my companions and those I crossed paths with in that part of the journey, though I lost track of it all within one year of exiting that comfort zone. I do kind of envy those who managed the transition in continuity with those very relationships.

It struck me just five years back that my second biggest link with school days was with the rows of nasturtiums in the art block that I recall resurging year after year. A foggy January walk in Delhi’s Nehru Park at a particularly tough-to-navigate crossroad in my life took me back to that space. I made my peace there, found inspiration, if you will, too, and placed the association as a core part of the toolkit in my backpack. My most prized takeaway though, is the set of close friendships that resurrected subsequently, with the decadal gap redundant and relevant at the same time.

Yet, I don’t know how I will feel at the re-created morning assembly. Will it lead me further into introspection? Shall I be the grinning jackass all over again? I might want both, actually. And that may well speak for many of us coming back to regroup as the batch of 1984. 

The five things I would have done differently...

~ Ajay Chowdhary

The best way of exerting pressure is not to exert pressure, Kirti was clearly happy that I had volunteered to write something for Sandesh, she came back with a list of ideas that I could use to get started, followed up once, and then let go J If she had continued to follow up, I would have apologised and found an excuse – but when she didn’t, I felt that I had let her down. Strange are the ways that make the mind tick. So anyway, here is what I came up with – thank Kirti for this, otherwise you would have been deprived of this literary masterpiece :-D

Go on, read ahead…

The five things I would have done differently if I were to live my Modern days again

And if only I could find my way back to the time

When the problems of this life 

Had not yet crossed my mind 

And the answers could be found in children's nursery rhymes 

I'd come runnin' back to you 

I'd come runnin' back to you …

Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers made these words famous, but none of us can deny that there is a little bit of a “what-if” hiding in all of us. However happy we are, there is a niggling thought at the back of our mind asking us how life would have been different if we had done something differently at some turn in life – what if I had taken that road and not this, what if I had acted a little differently, what if my approach towards life was not what it actually was, what if I had studied more, what if I had studied less, what if she had said yes, worse still, what if I had only asked – the list is endless, full of generalities and specifics, depending on how much you think back.

I took a trip down the “Modern” lane, and came up with these five top ticket “what-if” items – the things that I would do differently if only there was a second chance in life.

These appear in no logical or significance order, just drifting thoughts that come to mind when one goes back in time – 25 years is one heck of a long time…

1.     Not get a “zero” in maths: I’m the only one in my extended list of relatives and their relatives to have got a zilch in any subject in any class. I managed this stupendous feat in the pre-finals of my 11^th – DNK’s eyes must’ve popped out of his thick glasses when he was correcting my paper. I’m sure he went through it over and over again, just to find a reason to give me one puny little mark. But I was too good for him, it was a chanceless duck – no score. Not only that, when he couldn’t pass me in any of the re-tests, he gave me a past paper to take home and bring back for checking – my tutor passed that examination, and the rest, as they say, is history.

2.     Not slip out of the class when the teacher was sleeping: one of our teachers in Commerce, Mr. Asthana, was so damned good that he could recite notes in his sleep, which he often did while going through the basics of Company Law and such other interesting topics. Our class had a hand-cricket tournament that we completed during these engaging lectures. Half the class took turns in making their way out of the window when he was standing in the middle of the floor, eyes wide shut, and rattling notes for us to take down – I’m sure not a word out of place from the last year, and the year before that, and the years before that. He had no time for questions – he did not take kindly to being disturbed while asleep, you see. Anyway, I wish I had stuck on (at least on the days when I was not playing) in spite of my wastrel friends, who would take me out every day, if not to play, to umpire the clash of the titans on the (hand) cricket field. For the sake of officiating in the intra-class matches, I missed the entire series of the somnambulistic pedagogue – no wake-up calls there.

3.     Duck when I was slapped by the Principal: one fine day, after the morning assembly (when we were reminded by the Vice Principal of his photographic memory for the seven hundred and forty nineth time), I turn back from the water cooler and bump into – who else, but the Principal. “What class do you have?” came the gruff, taunting question. And as I fumbled for an answer (heck, how was I to answer when I hadn’t the foggiest?) I could see something whir past me from the corner of the eye and land on my left cheek – I think I heard the resounding cracker of the noise first (as I’m sure the whole school must have) before I could feel the sting – it still smarts. But anyway, what I would have done differently was to anticipate and take preventive action – Akram never gave Tendulkar a notice when he came up with one of his bouncers that rose from an uncomfortable length, one is supposed to take care of himself, I should have too.

4.     Not get caught after making optimal use of scarce resources: Juggi traced her family tree to a fierce warrior tribe – she would immediately launch into her war dance if one scored low in her Geography tests, and many stalwarts became a notch on her Smith and Wesson for doing this. With so many things to do at home (watching movies on the newly imported colour TV and VCR, for one), there was little time that one could devote to the exciting “Geogo” notes after getting rid of the routine household stuff (as the movie-at-command above). The only way out was creative thinking – the shorts that we wore were longer when we stood up, and much shorter when we sat down (obviously, you would say, but look at the opportunity). If you wrote something on your thighs (geogo bullet points, for example), you could have a ‘walking’ notebook full of helpful hints that no-one could see when you got up, but you had access to when you ‘sat’ for the test. While this worked in school, one must also remember to rub it off when one reaches home (take a bath, you fool, I was always told) – I should have remembered – my folks gave me hell that evening…

5.     Make proper use of technology: from the town that I came, phones were still a rarity – you were lucky if you got one within 10 years of applying. We got one just as I was leaving for school, which was not soon enough for telephone usage to be a part of my upbringing. I knew one had to pick up the receiver, dial a number, wait for someone to respond, and then say something – what and how, was something I was not taught. Anyway, with this handicap, I managed to get the phone number for someone that I really liked. Not enough courage to say anything to her in the school, I decided to call her up instead. Phones are strange machines, they are earthly carriers of some extra-terrestrial, damaging, paralysing disorder – my heart would beat as if the phone receiver was designed to suck it out of my body, the lump in my throat would become bigger with every digit that I dialled – the damned Delhi numbers had seven digits – too many for my ever-growing lump in the throat. Once, I did get through – the mother answered, making it clear that she does not encourage such intrusions in her daughter’s privacy. Once if did get through to the daughter – after some moments of brain racking she did recognise me – all that I could ask was if she was prepared for the forthcoming tests (they were all of two months away). That was the end of my forays into the world of technology.

But seriously, the biggest remorse is that I did not make more friends. All these MHS84 names that keep cropping up in my inbox are familiar, but none that I can pick up the phone and call, and none that will shout with glee and give me a high-five when they see me after 25 years. I didn’t make strong relationships with folks, and didn’t keep in touch with those that I did. I was warped in my own world, my group of people, my table-tennis (in the stable-like structure (yeah, yeah, they called it the gym) as you enter the main gate), my hand cricket in the lawns behind SSS block, and that’s pretty much it. A waste of time I call it, there was a veritable ocean of people – and most of them would have been fine dudes (and dudies, or did I hear someone say dudettes – but we already know where I stood on that front) but I was too hesitant to strike a conversation with them. I came from a modest background, and I always felt that that was a barrier in making friends with most of the folks that did not – stupid of me, but there it is.

Wonder if there are second chances in life…

Brooklyn, New York Thought Exercise 1/12/2009

~ Mohan Sikka

Purpose: To make a decision about going to Delhi over Xmas and attending MHS 25^th Reunion

Strategy: Enumerate pros and cons of going; evaluate; make decision

Cons of Going	Pros of Going	Note to Self (if decide to go)
Good chance of running into at least one abhi-tak-shaadi-nahin-hui-beta? aunty in Delhi.	Get to see parents and Grandma and the fave niece.	Practice script: No, aunty. Very happily unmarried. Keep tone neutral, smile, try to change topic.
Flying solo. No waking up next to his warm body for two weeks.	No fighting over bed space and covers for two weeks, woo hoo.	Be nice and share the comforter till departure date.
25-year absence from the scene. Will people even recognize me?	Get to see what everyone else looks like after 25 years.	Go to gym every evening btw now and departure. Consider dyeing hair.
Strange new dream: The first day of Class XI. I’m in a new section; the cliques have shifted; the shadow of college hovers over everything.	A chance that some old dreams may finally stop, especially the recurring boards-are-starting-tomorrow-and-I-forgot-to-copy-Anu Dang’s-notes.	Yoga. Meditation. Other centering exercises. Tell boyfriend to wake me up if I shout: I have to study for the JEE, Ma’am. Find someone else to play Oedipus Rex.
Voice of Reason: Ticket mahengi hai. Time kum hai. If things don’t go well, you’ll be moping about it for months. You’ve worked for so hard to be done with the past; don’t regress.	Voice of Excitement: Jaana hai. Mujhe jaana hai. Mujhe apne ateet se milne ki shadeed khwahish hai. I can’t pretend any more that I don’t have a history.	Still feel like the geeky boy some days. How strange, this life.
Major blank in recalling names potentially embarrassing.	GB, Poonam, Mahip, Isaac, Punya, Kirti, Rahul V, Anuj, Deepika and the sorority sisters, all you other angels. Your names are tumbling into my ears and out of my mouth. You’ve all been keeping bits of my heart for 25 years.	Stay close to Vikram and GB for quick who’s-who reminders.
The likelihood of a repeat encounter with the abhi-bhi-time-hai-beta aunty on the way out of Delhi.	Prosaic discomforts of extended family probably balanced by the amount of fun had at the reunion.

Analysis: Thought exercise has made old, disconnected memories rise up like Campa Cola bubbles: freezing in shorts till Class X; the red gravel of the school driveway; handball in the morning; assembly (first outside, then in); Akbar House Functions; canteen raids; the dark streaks of ink on light blue uniforms; the huddle of those same uniforms at Nirula’s; editing Sandesh with Zaki; class with Binjoo; class with Giri; class with Kona. On and on. Many crisp, bright strokes, a few dark, blurry ones.

Decision: Not even close! See you all on the 26^th.