THE ELIXIR OF LIFE

My class room on the left.

Those were the days which were filled with sunshine. The morning was meant for rushing from bed to school. There was no time in between for any thoughts except for reaching the Assembly on time.

Meeting friends was the highlight of the day, exchanging glances, smiling without anyone else looking at us, giggling without a reason - those were the days which have gone far away. Learning, studying, attending class was only incidental. Those memories were stored away and were never  revisited. Life went on so fast after school that one went from one stage to the next without blinking an eyelid and noticing the time.

Varsha, Balbir, Kalyani, Pamela, Alice, Nilima, Bina, Sondha.

Then suddenly out of the blue contact was made with someone from the past. We spoke and chatted and hoped that someday we would meet.

That was the moment of realisation. That was when suddenly I realised that it was actually half a century ago that I had been that school girl in a hostel, in a small little town called Hazaribagh, who oiled her hair every night and made two tight plaits before sleeping, with the firm belief that my hair would remain healthy and grow fast. I remembered the wonderful song that we sang every night before sleeping.

" I lay my body down to sleep,

I pray to God my soul to keep,

And if I die before I wake,

I pray to God my soul to take."

Those were the days when we would rush to Room number one of the hostel on Wednesday night at 8 pm to listen to the honey sweet voice of Ameen Sayani presenting the wonderful Binaca Geet mala. Those were the days my friend which were in my memory bank, waiting to pop out in a jiffy. Only that jiffy needed to be triggered by meeting a school friend.

Indu Bhardwaj, Nilima Roy, Varsha.

It is surprising that school friends take us back as if in a time machine. The journey is instant. The rewind is without any stop. As if that half a century never passed in between.

Amita Samonta

A few years ago one day I took just an instant to dash to Calcutta when I found that my friend Amita was there. I spent the day with her, walking near Dhakuria lake, eating at a fabulous Chinese restaurant. We spoke nineteen to the dozen, we went on and on until it was time to say goodbye.

Varsha, Jayashree Nair.

Speaking with Jayashree on the phone is another non stop journey where we catch up with all things that we cared about.  The distance of the continents, do not matter at all.

Nilima revived all those memories once again. The meeting has been as if we never parted 49 years ago. Remembering names, forgotten incidents, forgotten memories has rejuvenated me once again. Life seems good. 

Meeting old friends is the elixir for a better life. It is the balm which heals. It is the refreshing whiff of fresh air which revives my memory and makes me want to look forward to the next meeting for a fresh dose of ambrosia.

I need to thank all the girls of my school who call me didi and care for me so much. I need to thank my class mates for keeping me in their memory.

Mount Carmel Hazaribagh, you made us what we are. Thank you.

Our beautiful trees.