(My class in school that for the first time met in 1964, 60 years ago, celebrates its reunion today. It is a momentous occasion. Its a time to rejoice and reminisce, to exchange loving memories and pleasing anecdotes, as also to barter light hearted banter, gentle jibes, and witty innuendoes. But it should also urge us to reflect on the journey of last over half a century, to recall our accomplishments, and even more, to analyse where we faltered. )
60 years ago, on a rain- drenched cold late evening we arrived at a place that was to be our home and crucible for the next 6 years. Emotionally shaken, and physically tired, it seemed a formidable beginning. We had embarked on a journey that seemed both exciting and intimidating. It was a journey of expectations and apprehensions, of hope and belief, of struggle and toil, of growth and transformation.
Sixty years ago, we first crossed paths as fresh-faced boys, stepping into the hallowed ashrams of our school on Netarhat Hills. It was here, amidst the quiet serenity of those hills, that our formative years took shape. Together, we spent six transformative years—learning, laughing, struggling, and growing—guided by ideals far larger than ourselves. Our school was more than a place of education; it was a cradle of values that sought to build not just competent men, but good men, men of substance and integrity.
As we gather again, decades later, nostalgia will wash over us. We will travel down the memory lane, we will walk on the once trodden paths, step into those classrooms and labs where we learnt so much, and roam the playgrounds that taught us to win with humility and to lose with grace. We will remember with reverence our ‘Shrimanjis’ and ‘Matajis’ and pay them rich and emotional tributes, and we will also remember the host of men-the Ashram Sewaks, the cooks, the dispensary staff, the lab assistants and many more who made our lives pleasantly bearable.
Sure enough, there will also be light hearted banter and gentle jibes, and witty innuendoes exchanged among many of us, making the occasion specially delightful.
We will rejoice and reminisce, but perhaps we should also reflect. We will talk about the camaraderie we shared, the lessons we learned, and the friendships that have endured through the tumult of life but nostalgia alone may not be enough. This reunion, as joyous as it is, also invites us to pause and reflect. We must look back on the years since we parted ways with our school, and honestly ask ourselves: What have we achieved? And more importantly, where have we faltered?
Individually, most of us have excelled. We have made our mark in our chosen fields, built families, and upheld the dignity of the lives we were given. We have been diligent professionals and responsible citizens. But despite these personal triumphs, a deeper question lingers in my heart: Have we lived up to the ideals that were instilled in us? Did we carry forward the value system that was so painstakingly nurtured within us?
The answer, I fear, is bittersweet.
Yes, we have achieved much. Some of us have stepped outside the call of our duty, have ventured into social service and community work, have initiated efforts aimed at a larger good. But such instances are few and far between. I cannot help but feel that collectively, we failed to make the impact we were capable of. Our school did not just prepare us for personal success; it aimed to prepare us for a greater purpose. We were taught self-reliance, but also the importance of contributing to the world beyond our individual lives. We were shown the power of unity and collective action, yet we allowed that spirit to wither over time.
We became professionals, but did we become change-makers? We succeeded as individuals, but did we, as a group, move the needle of society towards something better? Looking back, I see that we did not. We could have stood as a bulwark against the moral and ethical decay that has gripped the nation, but we did not. We could have been the force that stymied the tide of deterioration, but instead, we allowed ourselves to settle into the comfort of personal achievement.
And therein lies my regret, my remorse. Not for what we did—because we did well—but for what we did not. We did not become the critical mass that could inspire or transform. We did not push our value system outward into a world that so desperately needed it. We, who were taught to be leaders in thought and action, became content with being mere participants in the status quo.
Could it then be audacious on my part to suggest that this reunion should not only celebrate what was, but also should contemplate what could be? Could this assembly of one of the finest minds and perceptive sensibilities to look beyond joyful revelry and a comraderie that binds us so strongly?
Yes, we are past seventy, but seventy is not too old. We may no longer be the young boys full of fire and ambition, but we are still here, and with that, comes the opportunity to make a difference. With the wisdom of our years is it possible to leave a legacy that goes beyond personal accomplishments?
Grand gestures aren’t necessary; even the smallest initiatives can ripple outward in ways we can’t predict.
In friendship, reflection, and hope for what lies ahead, I remain as always a fellow traveller on this shared journey
scribo ad LX 