Clarians ReUnited

hi !

I have posted the checklist once again in your mailboxe’s .pleaseupdate as soon as possible .

My favourite teacher was Kavita maam!

Time used to fly in Chem and Comp Sc. classes.

Trully the life has changed a lot in these seven years….

From notebooks in school to the laptops now…

From Class tests to the presentations now….

From Annual Exams to generating annual reports now…

From the smal school canteen to the cafetaria in the office now…

From that class full of friends to the lonely cubicle now….

From those pink report cards to the apraisal sheets now…

Every thing has changed & we have changed too….

Now we no more eagerly wait for that one sports period in the whole week…

Not any more we wait for the school to get over &

no more anyone sings the jingle “Chutti honey waali hai Rail ka dibba Khali Hai”

But, one thought always comes to my mind.. That Is this the life that we wanted when we were in school….

Sitting at the cubicle resting at my room,

Sometimes washing clothes, sometimes with broom.

With No friends and Family around ,

only people peeping at your accounts..

I sit at wonder , beautiful were those days

when we had friends with beautiful thoughts &

helping hands, helping everybody in their own ways.

Times have changed and we all have been caught

with an everlasting webbed knot,

Same are the friends , same are the people

we only have an extra cubicle…..

A cubicle which has separated us from all…

Stronger & mighter than our physical tussle during school hour..

With this wall we have lost a lot…

money , profile and staus have replaced all….

I pray to god please bring back those days…

i want to go back to school cycling ways

Bless my friends wherever they are…….

Just ask them to remember me

when i’am gone , when i’am gone !

 Love,

Gurpreet !

Office cubicle has never been this uncomfortable for me. For once, your mails, the blogs, the www.clarians.net has been encouraging me to pen down the curiosity developing in my mind, the answers to which are seeked in the response each one of you express to this thread.

As I turn the pages of our history, the one page that attracts my attention the most is “the day of our Farewell“. This day we will all be bidding good luck and parting for life, each with dreams and destinations of a beautiful future, a lovely partner and a worthy life. For friends to stay as friends would seem impossible. Destiny will change our destinations, distances will part us for life, attachment will decease.

Today, seven years forward, sitting in my cubicle, looking at the mails from each one of you, I wonder what made us remember everything from so long back in history? Why the events we never recalled for years replay again. Email id’s never existed, phone numbers were never exchanged, addresses kept changing, distances kept extending, but still the attachment and love we have to others and for School and particular would not die and the feeling of togetherness will make us come together to initiate a ReUnion that was never imagined.  

So, here I stand today inviting one and all to express your thoughts and answer my curiosity. I request you all to never let this thread decease; extend it with your thoughts and reasons you feel the alumni of St. Clare’s is still together…….

Antesh: Our school “Clare’s” as it formed a bond which kept our hearts together.

The only personality at clares that I can not forget all my life will be Mr. Gangaram Kushwah….. Unki woh aadhey baalon walli chand, Woh grey color ka coat, Woh unki moped on which he carried his three children, most of all his Handkerchief with which he used to wipe his head & clean his nose…..  Yet always confident in teaching & beating..  Unka oh class ke ek koney mein jaakar tobacco khana… Aur fir Home work naa karney par hamara pitna… I can never forget that & I will always miss that part of my life… What do you all think of this….

The Most Beautiful Flower

The park bench at a park in AGRA was deserted as I sat down to read one of my boring school books Beneath the long, old, shaggy looking willow tree. Disillusioned by life, books in my mind with all good reasons to frown, the entire world was dragging me down.

And if that along with my exams schedule weren’t enough to ruin my day, A young boy out of breath after running a mile approached me, all tired from play. He stood right before me with his head down and said with great excitement, “Look what I found!”

In his hand was a flower, and what a boring sight, with all its petals worn - not enough rain, or too little light. I Wanted him to take his dead flower & go off to play, I gave him a fake smile and then shifted away.

But to my surprise, instead of going he sat next to my side & placed the flower near to his nose and exclaimed with a surprise & a smile, “It smells pretty and I find it beautiful, too. That’s why I picked it; here, it’s for you.”

The flower before me was dead. Neither vibrant, nor exuberant of colors. But I surely realized that I must take it, or he might never leave. So I reached for the flower, and replied, “This is Just what I need.”

But instead of placing the flower in my hand, the boy held the flower mid-air without reason or plan. It was then that I noticed for the very first time that this very boy could not see: he was blind.

I did hear my voice shiver, and tremble. As I thanked him for picking & giving me the very best one. “You’re welcome,” he smiled, and then ran off to play, Unaware of the impact & impression he’d left upon me on that very day.

I sat there and wondered how he managed to see a self-pitying man beneath an old willow tree. How did he know of my self-indulged plight? Perhaps from his heart, he’d been blessed with true sight.

Through the eyes of a blind child, at last I could see the problem was not with the world; the problem was me. And for all of those times I myself had been blind, I vowed to see beauty, and appreciate every second that’s mine.

And then I held that wilted flower up to my nose and breathed in the fragrance of a beautiful rose and smiled as that young boy, another weed in his hand about to change the life of an unsuspecting old man.

The same is also posted here

Love-

Gurpreet !

Clares canteen was simply amazing…i used to really like the burger and patty.

But I cant remember ki aur kya kya milta tha?

Help me guys

-Mohit

Exam reports ain’t the best things that happen to you in School. Worse even you might end up beating the books the whole day for not having done as well as expected or your friend has better grades or for your teacher thinks you are an A+ student where you just got an A. But for us clarians, it was more than the grades that mattered, it was the feeling to have anything and everything at the little Canteen we have at the School. The bun samosas, the patties, the cold drinks when compared to the Pizzas and Pastas, the Subs and the wraps might not look that impressive today, but that was the best food I ever had in my lifetime.

Every three months, the day would come and bring with it all the sorrows of doing bad, the joy of doing good and the curiosity to know more about other’s performance. When I sit back printing my memories today, I realise how stupid I was for being more interested in the numbers others managed, for now I realise that there was no competition of any sort, for now we have all parted, competing with a different set of individuals and still not realizing that we will part again.

This writeup will continue…

Antesh Bansal