Reunion of Class of 72

Class of 72 Re U


Re Us are cool. And so-o in. Every one is embarking on a journey into the past to see how the oily pigtailed girls and tongue-tied guys finally turned out . Well, that’s how we were, largely sticking to same sex “best friends” , barring a few awkward interactions with the opposite sex under the watchful eyes of teachers at school picnics, annual days, field visits and such.

But largely, a Re U I think is driven by technology that allows people to be traced, than curiosity or pangs of long lost affection .

And so it came to be, on December 18 and 19, 2010 roughly one-third of the class of ’72. from Baroda High, met at Vadodara. People literally came from all over the world-well, from USOA and UK mostly, which to my ilk , is the world anyway. Bad weather and busy holiday season played fowl, and kept away some, though.

Housed in the Maharaja's erstwhile stables, Baroda High School, Bagikhana, as it was called, attracted endless mirth from children of other schools, who would shout "t-a-b-e-l-a" and go tic-toc, tic-toc as we walked by! Bagikhana also attracted NRIs . Several of my school mates were migrants from Africa, for whom re migration, was like a given , a function of time . We came from different worlds- desi me and my videsi friends ! Early in my BHS days, though not for long, I was the odd one out , being a native (? !) of Andhra Pradesh, a State which until its flamboyant Chief Minister NTR, years later put on the world map, was invariably grouped in the collective “South India”, its people dismissed as “Madrasis”, who spoke a type of Hindi, vulgarized by Comedian Mehmood!. By the time I came to Baroda, my father’s job had already moved us around to Jabalpur, Delhi and Kolkata , defying an easy answer to that compelling routine question, “where are you from”? I still find the question tricky, having subsequently moved to Assam, Hyderabad, Bahrain, Hyderabad again, Mumbai, Ahmedabad and Dilli again! If owning a piece of immovable property can be counted as an indicator of “from” –ness, then my recently acquired 2.5 BHK in Secundrabad, makes me Hyderabadi- the State is yet an open issue -will I remain an Andhrite or be declared a Telangani? And would the 3BHK I had to sell in Ahmedabad to acquire this,continue to entertain a tiny claim to me being a “Gujarati”? I read, write and speak both languages if that counts! But, I digress.

Back to the Re U. What topped the list was anticipation leading up to D Day, followed by the exciting first meeting, trying to recognize each other. A few, I did instantly. The fog slowly lifted off others, as their names were revealed. Alas, a few blanks too- name, face, nothing! Zero recall. Only the school certificates can now conclusively establish our connect. Nobody, but nobody recognized me outright!

Hey, this was the Class of ’72! 38 years is a long time. Just as well, this Re U happened while at least something was recallable!

The first day, one of the guys hosted a dinner at his pretty, sprawling farm house. Spirit (s) rose, tongues loosened and the checkered conversations rolled between past and present. This day was supposed to be school mates only sans spouses or partners. Observing the rule in its exception was the chief initiator, who brought his smart wife along, unwittingly inducing a few mumbles. Day two was a gala, song and dance, live music , spouses , et al. Five teachers , well into their 80s were traced, ferried to the event and honoured with shawls and flowers. A charming symbolic gesture, but most did not remember much, on either side, I daresay.

By pay-up time, a few mumbles became grumbles , stirring some disenchantment. I hope the main organizers, who worked hard for over a year in putting this together will contain this and not let a bit of pettiness take away from the big feat they pulled through.

So what do I bring back from this time travel?

Beautifully, a close connect with my soul sister, who I have thought of often over the years. Amazement at how gracefully the girls have aged and looked lovely. Stirred a funny bone seeing how a high profile girl then was equally dramatic now!
Above all, joy and pride at the thoroughbreds turned out by the proverbial Augustin’s stables! For here I was, amidst successful business men and women, senior managers, CEOs, educationists and several doctors: gynecologists, anesthetists, pediatricians, ophthalmologists, trauma surgeons and the like.

Winners, all!
Well Done Class of ’72 !


The next meet……………lets see, hmmm, well, depends!! You know, Re Us, do consume a lot of resources---time, energy, brain disk space , finances.. too!

Then again, I am part of Class of 76 of M.S.U. ; Class of 79 of O U; the Ad Agency gang of early 80s, Bahrain Crowd of late 80s,OU Colleagues of early 90s; the APTECH lot of mid 90s; Taleem family of late 90s; and above all, my own prolific family……any one listening!