Knees Are Older, Memories Young
Updated: 3 hours ago
Celebrating our YPS Golden Jubilee
The knees we skinned while studying in school were a bit wobbly. They weren't to be blamed; they were old—at least for most of us. Except, of course, for those who had acquired new ones! So were we, truth be told. But try telling that to the hearts of the students who had gathered to celebrate the Golden Jubilee of the Indian School Certificate (ISC) 1976 batch at Yadavindra Public School (YPS), Patiala!
No doubt, the years had been kinder to some of us than to others. But for this wonderful occasion, time folded back on itself, and we were once again in school—literally and, more importantly, in our memories. We discussed (and occasionally dissed) our disciplinarians, recalled adventures and relived dramas that had seemed enormously important to us as teenagers. Some of them, I know, have grown considerably more entertaining in the retelling.
This past week offered the immense pleasure of stepping back in time, catching up with old friends and celebrating a milestone reunion. Some of us were meeting after 50 years; others were already familiar faces. Chandigarh has a fairly large contingent of our classmates, and we keep in touch. Yet, there is something quite special about getting together as a batch, with the school itself as the backdrop.
The celebrations begin
Chandigarh Golf Club members seem to believe that everything worthwhile begins at the club. On this occasion, I am happy to concede the point, since the festivities got underway there on the evening of November 4, hosted by fellow club members Rajbirinder Singh Chahal and Gurpreet Bhattal.
It was a joy to catch up with old companions, including Jaspal Chattha, our school headboy. Arvinder S Dhaliwal flew in from Tanzania, while Rajdeep Puri travelled from Bengaluru. The only pilot among us, Air Commodore Daljit Ahluwalia (retd), had flown in from Hyderabad.
We swapped stories, recalled old adventures and compared notes. I found myself nodding appreciatively at some accounts of school life that I had missed because I was a day scholar, as was Rajdeep, while most others were boarders. Apparently, much happened after the day scholars went home!
Jaspal's eidetic memory ensured that he supplied details of events many of us had forgotten, or perhaps had consciously decided to forget. It was a useful reminder that, at a reunion, one should be careful about whom one sits next to. Someone always remembers everything.
Back at YPS Patiala
The next morning, Jaspreet, Daljit Ahluwalia, who joined us, and I headed to Patiala and reported at the school at 10.15 am. Some arrived before us, and others a few minutes later, but we were all excited to be there.
Stepping onto the campus of Yadavindra Public School (YPS), Patiala, with Jaspreet by my side, immediately brought back a flood of memories. The institution that shaped so many of our lives has clearly gone from strength to strength, and seeing it today filled us with immense pride.
I have had occasion to visit the school a few times since passing out. In 1998, I attended the ceremonies and wrote about YPS for The Tribune on the occasion of its Golden Jubilee. Time has certainly been kinder to the institution than to some of its former students!
AYOSA Authors' Meet
The 75th-anniversary celebrations had also brought me back to the school. I was invited to participate in the AYOSA Authors' Meet, where Mandeep Rai, Neel Kamal Puri, Harnihal Singh Sidhu and I discussed our books, with Simrita Sarao Dhir joining us over Zoom. The Patiala Book Lovers Retreat organised the event. I remember how well the occasion was organised and how stimulating the interaction was.
This time, too, I had the opportunity to meet more of my classmates and interact with the bright young Yadavindrians. We met our fellow Chandigarhians Hardeep Dhillon and Sunil Jain; Intu Grewal Ghuman, who lives in Patiala; Preetinder Singh, who came from Bathinda; and Neelam Rai Singh Dev, who travelled from Delhi. We knew Ramjit Kaur and Shampa Mitra wouldn't be joining us, and we missed them. Jaspreet and Sukhraj, both from Chandigarh, were the two spouses. Of course, Sunil and Hardeep, who are both—classmates and spouses! Jaspreet took most of the pictures in the post; I took some from the WhatsApp group.
Over the years, our ranks have diminished, and I would like to pause to remember those who are no longer with us: Satbir Singh Virk, Narindra Singh, Winendra Singh Kaleka, and Rajiv Arora. I used the information the school provided to create a visual of our batch.
The campus had another special attraction: the 1976 ICSE batch and a substantial contingent of Yadavindrians celebrating their Silver Jubilee. The latter had clearly come prepared. They sported identical, custom-made black T-shirts during the day and changed into formal attire for dinner. Fifty years ago, we might have considered such coordination excessive. Today, we recognised it as commendable planning!
We reminisced about the good old days. And yes, given everyone's age, they really were the old days!
A day to remember
The school celebrated its 78th Annual Sports Day, and the Headmaster, Mr Navin Kumar Dixit, ensured everything went smoothly through meticulous planning and execution. It was a pleasure to see the care with which the entire day had been organised.
My sincere appreciation goes to everyone who worked so hard to make the visit memorable. It was also a pleasure to finally meet Mrs Kanwaldeep Kaur in person after months of digital interaction. Some friendships, it seems, begin online and eventually graduate to a handshake!
The day began with a warm welcome in the auditorium lobby, followed by a poignant address and prayer by the Headmaster. A palpable sense of occasion filled the room, with old students returning to a place that had played such an important part in their lives.
Acknowledging teachers, addressing students
Standing on the auditorium stage to address the students was an honour. It also offered a fascinating study in public-speaking styles.
Rajbirinder Chahal took out his prepared speech and proceeded to ignore it. I took out my address and actually read it. Arvinder S Dhaliwal, meanwhile, dispensed with the written word altogether and spoke extempore. Three speakers, three approaches.
We all acknowledged our debt to the school, spoke a little about our lives and careers, and shared some of our accumulated gyan with the students. Whether they found it enlightening or merely an indication of what 50 years can do to people, we can only speculate.
It was, of course, an appropriate occasion to acknowledge the teachers who had helped shape us, often showing remarkable patience and occasionally demonstrating powers of observation we would rather they hadn't possessed.
Mrs G. K. Singh patiently drilled the fundamentals of English into us. I shared the adjoining desk with Daljit Ahluwalia, and I am sure she had her work cut out for her with both of us. Later, Mr Duffy spotted a spark of writing talent that had somehow escaped everyone else, including the student in question. Then Mr RK Bhardwaj taught us English and much more.
Then there was Mr H. N. Kashyap, who once demonstrated the ultimate in classroom gentleness. He paused his entire class to wait for a certain student to wake up from a nap. "Now that Roopinder has joined us, we can continue," he remarked softly. The level of mortification I experienced at that moment remains unmatched, even 50 years later. One would have thought that half a century might have helped me recover. Apparently not!
My address also reminded the current generation of students that school education provides the foundations on which we build our lives, but the rest of the structure is ours to design.
People in the auditorium offered a striking illustration of this. Half a century ago, its occupants were teenagers, preoccupied with examinations, sports, friendships and the occasional misadventure. Today, the same batch comprises doctors, pilots, lawyers, entrepreneurs and businesspersons. Some followed fairly straight career paths; others took unexpected detours, encountered setbacks, reinvented themselves and discovered talents they might never have known they possessed.
Looking around the room, at a batch that was undeniably a little greyer, perhaps wiser, and certainly slower on the sports field, I realised that what binds us is neither the marks we secured nor the trophies we won or missed. It is the shared starting point, the experiences we carry and the resilience that has helped us navigate the many turns life has taken.
Presenting Gurdwaras: Abodes of the Guru
A special moment during the visit was presenting Mr Dixit with an inscribed copy of my latest book, Gurdwaras: Abodes of the Guru. It continued a lovely tradition. During the school's 75th-anniversary celebrations, I had presented earlier titles through AYOSA, and I hope this new volume will find interested readers in the campus library.
I also cherish another small connection. A painting by a young Yadavindrian, presented to me during that earlier anniversary visit, now hangs prominently in my study. It is a daily reminder of the artistic talent YPS nurtures, and of the connections that endure long after one leaves school. The mementoes received on this visit will find a place of pride beside it.
We all went for lunch at the Mess, now a combined one for all houses, unlike the individual messes we had in school. Over plates of khari, rice and mixed vegetables, we spoke about the rajma chawal we used to love. Desserts ended the discussion—and our meal. The mess is new; nostalgia was strong. Hardeep took the pictures, which I have posted above this paragraph.
Having already confessed my dismal performance in sports, I missed the main Sports Day event, though I later caught up on YouTube to see Jaspal, Arvinder, Rajdeep, and Gitanjali run on the track like in the good old days!
We had dinner on the YPS front lawns, where we met once again and were presented with souvenirs. The Silver Jubilee batch danced a storm, with an adventurous few—Jaspal and Arvinder, Rajdeep and Gurpal primarily—joining in while most of us remained cognizant of our limitations.
There was much to be grateful for. The school had opened its doors to us once again, and for a few precious hours we were not quite the people we had become, but the boys we had once been.
Fifty years is a long time. Hair has thinned, waistlines have expanded, and some knees no longer function as well as they ought to. But the schoolboy spirit, it turns out, is remarkably resistant to ageing.
And that is perhaps the greatest gift of a reunion: discovering that while we have travelled a long way from our schooldays, a part of us has never really left YPS Patiala.
Nostalgia…not about missing the past. It's about realizing how much love was there all along, and we didn't even know we were making memories.
वक़्त गुज़र गया, पर वो लम्हे अब भी मेरी निगाह में मौज की तरह रहते हैं!
Love you, Roopinder!🤍
A wonderful write-up! You've captured every moment of the reunion beautifully, and it will serve as lasting memorabilia for all of us. Thank you for putting it together. Here's to many more reunions!