By Prateek N. Kumar,
MD & CEO, NeoNiche Integrated Solutions Pvt. Ltd
I recently had the pleasure of attending my high school reunion, 22 years after leaving school. I was meeting some of my batchmates after two decades, and apart from their balding pates, bulging paunches and greying hair, what struck me the most was the realization that they were shaped by the same forces that shaped me. Old fights resurfaced, as did old friendships; and old flames were discussed. Then came talk of kids and baby pictures were shared.
We parted after two days of fun, frolic and nostalgia, and on the flight back, I went into a reverie. It had all started in the fall of 1985, when I first entered the precincts of Bishop Westcott Boys’ School, one of the oldest schools in the eastern region of India founded in 1927 by Rev. Foss Westcott. Located on the bank of River Subarnarekha, in picturesque green environs, the school had served as a make-shift hospital during World War II. Much later, when Prakash Jha made his debut as a movie director, he chose the school as a backdrop for ‘Hip Hip Hurray’.
The first day of school was very hectic for us as new boys were assembled in the prayer room after morning prayers, to be sent to four ‘houses’ which were to be their identity of sorts throughout their years at Westcott. As one of the teachers called out “Nelson House”, I was marked for life…
Even as we had fun chasing one another in the corridors, trying to chew off our nails, wiping our shoes on our socks et al, Westcott was highly competitive where students never forgot their individual ambitions. Even if you were a stellar student in any particular area, there was someone better than you at something else. This competitive spirit pushed people to do better and achieve an even higher level of excellence. Meanwhile, we had fights but no conspiracies, competitions, but seldom jealousy; and we watched live cricket telecasts in a teachers’ bungalow during intervals and lunch-break.
When the ‘kaka’ (as the helpers were fondly called) opened the dining room doors, 800-plus starving students rushed in for breakfast, tea, lunch or dinner. Food was quite restricted in those days and we made use of every opportunity to grab extras from the ‘dekchis’ or the neighbour’s plate. We often bartered food items. Boys who brought eatables from home guarded them like gold. On Sundays, boarders got Rs 20 to go out on city visits, juniors duly accompanied by seniors.
Days passed, and years flew at Westcott after a tumultuous, fun-filled journey and finally we were at the end of our school days. We had transformed from boys to young men ready to take on the world with our aspirations and dreams. The last day at school is still a very vivid memory - all of us were busy filling our scrap books and meeting teachers after an emotional and teary farewell. Carrying with us our own memories through the years inside those four walls, members of the Class of 1993 bid goodbye to teachers with whom their lives were intertwined. Finally as dusk set in, we stepped out, this time for good, with our school motto ‘Non Nascor Mihi Solum’ (Latin for ‘Live not for self alone’) imprinted on our hearts.
Our lives took their own course, and we all parted ways to meet again as fate would have it after 22 years, to compare the balance sheet of our lives with the same passion, laughter and glory… and at the very heart of it stood Westcott, which has made us the people we are today.
Feedback: prateek.kumar@neonicheintegrated.com
