Revisiting the old school tie

Last week I attended the golden jubilee celebrations of my batch at my alma mater,St Columba's High School in Delhi. The school is a rather elite boys’ institution run by Irish Christian Brothers. As name dropping goes, one Mr. Shahrukh Khan, now residing in Mumbai also studied there, though much after my time.

Nostalgia-wise, this was a memorable event and classmates had arrived in strength from various parts of the world. The organizing committee had instructed us to come in white shirts and dark trousers. Everyone, as true alumni,obeyed instructions and also agreed to buy the good old yellow and green striped school tie. It was a great sight watching all the oldies trying various knots to get the tie to the correct length.

The first sighting of my batch mates was a bit unsettling. It took a while to recognize that the gentleman with a generous waist and receding hairline was our fastest bowler fifty years back. The skinny, perpetually running nose, front -bencher had transformed into a still fighting fit army colonel and a helicopter pilot, to boot. What to say about the then plump, serious looking guy with thick black-framed spectacles. He was now a nattily dressed hotshot lawyer in Canada. I am sure the other chaps had an unflattering opinion about my present physique, too.

After about fifteen minutes the congregation was in its element. Someone also traced out the old school gong and the familiar sound rang out. It was as if we had passed out recently. Then just as we did fifty years back we jostled for a vantage place for the group photograph. As I was one of the shorter ones I managed to stand in the first row.

The icing on the cake was the counter where we could gorge on the snacks that were the norm in our school days. It was a sight to see that the same chaps who would now not venture to eat street food tucking into samosas and cream rolls served from a steel trunk. Not to forget the aam papad and chooran.

After a walk-through of the school we sat in our old classroom and tried to recall our respective seats. A batch mate pretended to be a teacher and called out the attendance imitating our physics master. Discussion then veered towards the quirkiness of our various teachers and their methods to mete out punishment to erring students. I was a regular recipient of caning as I was quite a delinquent where home work was concerned. (This served me in good stead in later years when I became my college wicket-keeper and my palms were pretty tough.)

Though ours was a boys-only school, we had the advantage of sharing a compound wall with a well known girls’ school,Convent of Jesus & Mary. As any interaction was a no-no, we had to crane our necks to peek across a hedge to spy on activity on the other side.

At the end of an invigorating three hours it was time to bid au revoir to the school till the next occasion, hopefully soon.

Life after retirement

Government servants and military officers have the advantage that they know their date of retirement the day they join service. Plus, they have a process called Leave Preparatory to Retirement that, in theory, allows them some free time to set their life in order before they quit office. Unfortunately, in the private sector there is so much worry on holding on to a job itself that there is no time even to plan for a retired life.

It is a cultural shock when you comprehend that your working days are history and the perquisites of office stop suddenly .Within a few days of my retirement invitations to soirees seem to disappear. All the Holi and May Queen Ball celebrations at five star hotels went on perfectly without my presence. I was now a person without an identity.

I paid (earlier I was invited) and attended a couple of conferences after my superannuation. One industry bigwig asked me for my business card. I felt embarrassed to inform him that I was retired and blabbered that I was out of business cards. The next day I went to a neighbourhood printer and had cards made proclaiming me as a ‘Consultant’.

I soon realized that I had a lot of time on hand, particularly in the mornings. I decided to bring all my management skills into the running of the household. I went around my apartment examining every nook and corner for deficiencies in housekeeping. I discovered that the maid conveniently forgot that she was required to sweep and swab under the cots. Further, the window sills were covered with dust. She also used more than the required quantity of water to do the dishes. I brought all this to her notice. To my wife’s horror the maid never showed up the next day. I believe that word had got around the building that our family need to be avoided by any self-respecting domestic. I had to face severe recrimination from my spouse, too.

In college I had done pretty well in my electives on Time & Motion Study and Production Planning & Control. This was the right opportunity for me to apply the best practices at home. Because I was generally moping around, I ended up buying vegetables and provisions on my wife’s orders. I deduced that we were buying too much and too frequently just for the two of us. I decided to rationalize inventory control, and also implement the Japanese method of Just in Time (JIT) supply.

An examination of the refrigerator revealed a whole lot of bits and pieces of vegetables that seemed to be withering. I exhibited them to my wife and also put up a board in the kitchen that read “Practice lean and JIT production. Inventory is waste.”Well, I learnt my wife’s feelings the hard way. Everybody should experience the once in a lifetime experience of eating sambar containing an eclectic mix of leftover brinjal,radish,cabbage,okra,pumpkin,bitter gourd, snake gourd, yam and sweet potatoes.

I made a strategic retreat after that, and nowadays spend more time on the golf course.