<p class="bodytext">A classmate’s call from Melbourne last year triggered it off. She asked, "What are our plans for our 50th year reunion? By now, I thought it would have been neatly wrapped up.” Till then, none of us had given it a serious thought, but connected by technology, the rest of the class mooted the idea of a 2024 reunion. There are schools and schools, and then there is Rishi Valley School. Tucked away in a verdant valley near Madanapalle, Andhra Pradesh, the school was founded by Jiddu Krishnamurti in 1926. Our batch passed out of ISC in 1974 from RVS. Along life’s path, we make many friends, but somehow school friends stick to your heart. </p>.<p class="bodytext">We all joined the boarding school for diverse reasons that ranged from: older siblings/cousins studied in the school; parents were in transferable jobs; self-discipline was instilled in a non-competitive atmosphere. My parents were in Assam, and in those days there were no English-medium schools to boast of, so most children in the OIL colony were sent to boarding schools or the mothers shifted to cities for their children’s education. When Dr Iyer, a family friend from Margherita, Assam, gave up his lucrative job and went to Rishi Valley as an administrator with his family, my parents admitted me there at the age of six. I was there till I completed ISC, and now we were gearing up for the Golden Jubilee!</p>.<p class="bodytext">It was agreed unanimously that we should spend time in the valley that nurtured us and then go to a resort in Horsley Hills. Batchmates converged from the world over, and the excitement was palpable as we decided on mementos and dress codes for photo shoots, made reservations, and finalised travel arrangements from Hyderabad, Bengaluru, and Chennai. </p>.<p class="bodytext">It was a joyous time as we walked down memory lane. We spoke about the fun times and the many pranks—some of which I was hearing for the first time! The brilliant Bob Balaram (of Ingenuity-that-landed-on-Mars fame), who used to be a very quiet boy back then, had done an experiment in the chemistry lab and burst a stink bomb in the class! No one even suspected that he was the culprit! Now, 50 years later, Bob hosted a session on how Ingenuity was conceptualised, designed, and its historic Mars landing.</p>.<p class="bodytext">We joined the chanting at assembly time, and I could almost visualise our teacher, Venks Sir, singing in his baritone voice. We met the management staff and faculty, visited the rural education and health centres, and interacted with the class 11 and 12 students. In their eager-to-leave school and explore-the-world eyes, I could see myself.</p>.<p class="bodytext">After two idyllic days, we went to Horsley Hills to spend more fun-filled time together. We are no longer sweet sixteens with dreams and aspirations, but for a few days, we walked back in time to a place where we were cocooned amidst nature. The valley and the memories it holds for us are unforgettable—the swaying of the trees near the auditorium, the cave rock looming behind the sports ground, and the stillness at night.</p>
<p class="bodytext">A classmate’s call from Melbourne last year triggered it off. She asked, "What are our plans for our 50th year reunion? By now, I thought it would have been neatly wrapped up.” Till then, none of us had given it a serious thought, but connected by technology, the rest of the class mooted the idea of a 2024 reunion. There are schools and schools, and then there is Rishi Valley School. Tucked away in a verdant valley near Madanapalle, Andhra Pradesh, the school was founded by Jiddu Krishnamurti in 1926. Our batch passed out of ISC in 1974 from RVS. Along life’s path, we make many friends, but somehow school friends stick to your heart. </p>.<p class="bodytext">We all joined the boarding school for diverse reasons that ranged from: older siblings/cousins studied in the school; parents were in transferable jobs; self-discipline was instilled in a non-competitive atmosphere. My parents were in Assam, and in those days there were no English-medium schools to boast of, so most children in the OIL colony were sent to boarding schools or the mothers shifted to cities for their children’s education. When Dr Iyer, a family friend from Margherita, Assam, gave up his lucrative job and went to Rishi Valley as an administrator with his family, my parents admitted me there at the age of six. I was there till I completed ISC, and now we were gearing up for the Golden Jubilee!</p>.<p class="bodytext">It was agreed unanimously that we should spend time in the valley that nurtured us and then go to a resort in Horsley Hills. Batchmates converged from the world over, and the excitement was palpable as we decided on mementos and dress codes for photo shoots, made reservations, and finalised travel arrangements from Hyderabad, Bengaluru, and Chennai. </p>.<p class="bodytext">It was a joyous time as we walked down memory lane. We spoke about the fun times and the many pranks—some of which I was hearing for the first time! The brilliant Bob Balaram (of Ingenuity-that-landed-on-Mars fame), who used to be a very quiet boy back then, had done an experiment in the chemistry lab and burst a stink bomb in the class! No one even suspected that he was the culprit! Now, 50 years later, Bob hosted a session on how Ingenuity was conceptualised, designed, and its historic Mars landing.</p>.<p class="bodytext">We joined the chanting at assembly time, and I could almost visualise our teacher, Venks Sir, singing in his baritone voice. We met the management staff and faculty, visited the rural education and health centres, and interacted with the class 11 and 12 students. In their eager-to-leave school and explore-the-world eyes, I could see myself.</p>.<p class="bodytext">After two idyllic days, we went to Horsley Hills to spend more fun-filled time together. We are no longer sweet sixteens with dreams and aspirations, but for a few days, we walked back in time to a place where we were cocooned amidst nature. The valley and the memories it holds for us are unforgettable—the swaying of the trees near the auditorium, the cave rock looming behind the sports ground, and the stillness at night.</p>
