The Reunion

The 2005 batch of Manav Mangal School, Panchkula had its first ever reunion on 14th June, 2009. Those not from the Chandigarh tricity might have heard the name for the first time, since its not in the league of DPS or DAVs, which can be found in every nook and cranny of the country. But, for me, this is the first name that comes to my mind while talking about schools. After all, I spent the 12 years of my school life in the same place, the effects of which can be seen in my one-dimensional personality.

While everybody went their separate ways after class 10 and ended up in different institutes 2 years later, those memorable days of school life still reminded us of each other. While some of us bumped into each other during the course of life, many were reduced to a bundle of memories of cute little faces, with eyes full of mischief and minds bubbling with innocent pranks. Sometimes, some suggested to have a get-together to relive those moments, but the very next moment, the idea would be lost in the quest for learning formulas and grappling with monstrous equations.

However, some days ago, the angry-young-man of our batch, a name he earned because of his phenomenal height, came up with the idea of having a reunion of our batch. Since I was desperate for a break from the monotony of the summers, I agreed to play my part. So, a google group was formed, and thus began the first step of locating and contacting the folks online. Though many of them had the customary Orkut profiles, though none on Facebook, only a few of them came online often. Somehow, a date was finalized and based on the vague confirmations, a disc was booked by the party-guy for 30 people, the minimum number for making a booking there.

Finally, the D-Day arrived, and some of us who had gone back home specially for the day, headed to the venue following the Indian Standard time. However, we were surprised to see that we were the first ones to land there. With the managers of the disc breathing down our necks, we made some frantic calls here and there, getting the standard on-my-way response from the few whose contact numbers were actually working. As some others trickled in, we went inside to take a feel of The Reunion, sans the batchmates. Though the party was a bit short on the glam quotient, because of some last-minute withdrawals, the beats of Punjabi pop-numbers kept up the tempo. After the lavish dinner, ordered for 30, reminding us of some fancy weddings, finally we settled down for some rounds of reliving the good old school-days.

Though it was evident that the turnout was way less than expected, when the gals decided to leave, the host-cum-manager turned into a modern day Don Quixote and collected their contry amounts as decided earlier. However, full repercussions of that act of chivalry were driven home when we were reminded of the actual amount to be paid. Since some other lucky dudes had already left at the first sign of opportunity, citing some personal reasons and handing over their share as well, the remaining ones had to bear the brunt. After some animated discussions and a session of accounting and borrowings, we managed to pay off the moolah and walked out as free men.

Hence ended our ordeal which made up for all the lost time. After all, reunions are supposed to be memorable affairs, and this one made sure that we would never forget those 4 years.

PS: Before I delve deeper into history, I need some feedback on my current attempts. So, please give your genuine comments on this and the previous posts.