We are one

Sankalpa Basu

There, I have your attention. What better way to start a post in a school blog. I have no reason to write about us in the singular as we are several, not very many maybe, but definitely more than one. We would like to believe that we are united, but I in my heart I know that we are merely a set of individuals who have passed through a time hole called DMS 83 and now yearn to go back through the same time hole, back to the future.

There, I think I have lost your attention already. But wait, I have something I wanted to tell you, I just couldn’t remember it in time. It is all coming back to me now. Yeah.. I wanted to share with you my obsession with fat.

I have been troubled with which I respectfully call as high BMI. I am not unique in having this trouble, it seems to be quite a popular concern, almost as serious as a bad MIL. A life time of indulgence has led me to accumulate. I have managed to turn some of the finest feasts into lipids. Poor me.

I envy those of you who don’t have my problem, but believe me the road to obesity was paved with delights, I have been singularly lucky to be born in this day and age, where people have a greater chance of dying from the effects of overeating than from the effects of starvation. I admit there are still an immense number of people dying from starvation, some of them in our own country, but there is a place and time for such serious discussions. Modern technology has allowed me to have ice-cream every day and not only when I could amass 50 paisa, I can have popcorn every time I watch a movie, that is, If I am not having nachos. I also keep some chocolates in my desk, just because I can.

We are not one, I am fat and you are thin, admit it gives you satisfaction to think how much slimmer you are than me, and you will have taken the first step towards honesty. And honesty my friends is the best policy.   

My friend Geeta

Geeta,  

I don't exactly remember my first conversation with you.  We met as 10 year old's in class V.  Can't even recall when the friendship grew to the extent that we could feel each other presence even after leaving school in 1985.  It was only 8 years of my life with you that made a life time of memory!!

Time went by and after 1985, we ended up in different college then started on the journey of our own lives.  Didn't really stayed in touch that much.  But whenever I took a trip down the memory lane a warm and giggling feeling would fill up my heart thinking about time spent with you. 

Life moved on.  I got married, got busy building my life....my poor husband heard all my childhood memories over and over and over.  We met again after few years and learned that you were engaged to Tridib and will be married soon.  Met the love birds at Chandrama's house.  Was so happy for both of  you.  You both had the spark and the fuzzy feeling you know :-)

Time was rolling and life got even more busier and 1998 on my trip back home, learned that you are a proud mom.  Could not see you or the baby that trip.  Made many  more trips after that and met you and Tridib few times but never got a chance to meet Om.  But always had this special feeling about him. Om is your son, must be very special.....As technology advanced saw Om's pictures and then saw a video of Om singing. Somehow developed an invisible bond with him.  Didn't talk to anyone about but just had that special feeling.

I will never forget when I read Sipra's posting about Om.  I just froze and thought I was mis-reading, so took a deep breath and read it again, then again, and again....heart started racing fast and had the feeling of butterfly on the stomach.  Had your face flash in front of me,

Next few hours was mixed with sorrow, anger, and a feeling of loss.  Wanted to pick up the phone and call you right away then could not gather the courage.  What am I going to tell you?  Felt like there is nothing in the world I can say to make you feel better.  Tried to rehearse what to tell you......and finally gathered enough strength for the call.  Just after saying hello, I forgot all the rehearsal.  You said you were in in Om's room at the time and feeling his presence.  I guess I immediately felt the same because I was not as disturbed any more.  Just listening to you made me realize that how special you are!!  You did talk about Om the whole time and how you had a vision before his birth.  How you knew that he was a special child.  I just listened.....what a powerful and strong personality you are!  Almost unbelievable at times, so calm.  But I salute you my friend, your actions and reactions half way around the world from me has made me realize life.  To accept life....and I am very proud to be your friend.

Om Raja....you are so special.  I love you and your parents.  

Never lose faith in your dreams!

Mrigank Das

A couple of years back I was on a bus tour of the city of Los Angeles. And the tour guide told me something that I shall never forget.
He said, "In LA, even the waiter in the restaurant is only one audition away from stardom." - I always think life is like that too - you are one audition away from stardom - never lose faith in your dreams!

Reflections 1.1

Siddharth Padhi

What makes this whole thing tick in time? We, the People of '83, regrouped after three decades, bringing with us our notions on the others from school days. If course, none of us are the same any more. So, its been interesting rediscovering things about each other; and sometimes bickering in the process. As familiarity discovers the unfamiliar aspects, the bonds strengthen  to create a composite, comprised of the original (not Chinese) bits, but far superior in character. That's what drives it.

Arabian Nights… Then and Now

Sipra Pati

Sometimes I have this dream… that I am strolling through a marketplace somewhere in the Middle East. The sun is beating down its angriest of rays, but the mesh awnings of the shops provide a respite and shadows… Appropriately so, for what would a dream be if it weren’t for shadows! As I stroll through the serpentine alleys of this seemingly never-ending marketplace, I see vendors selling silk scarves, hookah pipes, jewelry, beads, prayer mats, and more; I see merchants trying to woo people with strong enticing fragrances contained in slender vials… rose, jasmine, queen of the night, incense sticks that carry scents from the sandalwood forests of India, and many more that I can’t discern (hey this is a dream… my olfactory senses don’t quite work). The marketplace is crowded with men in white robes and veiled women in black flowing ones. They all pass me… no one as much looks at me. I find myself turning into an alley, which seems to culminate in a wind tower. It is dark in the alley despite the mid-morning sun. As in all the dreams, an old man sits on a wobbly stool with his ware displayed in a wooden wheelbarrow. He takes a pause from his hookah pipe - its smoke hovering around like a cloud. With a small smile, he picks up something from his wheel barrow and offers it to me. It is a lamp – not the most beautiful of things. In that split second that I hesitate to proffer to reach out to his outstretched hand and the unsightly lamp, the old man’s smile disappears, as the smoke from his hookah pipes becomes denser. Soon enough my dream gets all jumbled up and fades into a fog of dissipation, leaving miniscule dregs and regrets upon my wakening.

            What follows on my awakening is an overbearing feeling of sadness! I rationalize and tell myself that it is but a dream – remnants of thoughts and actions that have sunk to the bottom of my subconscious just like dregs; only to emerge nocturnally as my body rests. I wonder which thought or action could possibly trigger such a dream time and again. My only connection to the Middle East was my only visit to Dubai over five years back. The marketplace did not find space in either my cellular archives or the camera’s digital one, for it was noon, and deserted when I visited. What I remembered more fondly was the desert safari. Four wheel drive SUVs hurled my family and me up and down the sand dunes of the Arabian Desert, delivering us at the end of the day exhilarated, exhausted, hot, and hungry at a camp that had an Arabian feast laid out for our stomachs and a belly dancer to bedazzle us with her unique dancing-cum acrobatic skills. This was the Arabian night that defined exotic. And, here I was dreaming of veiled women and old men in dark alleys!

This is what Rajesh Srivastava has to say about hanging out with school buddies on social media:

"This is where my soul breathes....freely, like a child.
This is where I feel 'open my tiffin box' , without having to think what I have!"

Runner's High

Biswajit Das


I went on a bike ride after 4 weeks. Nothing serious. 10 miles. However this has been my longest gap of not exercising in almost 6 years. A combination of a sport injury, travel, office stress and just pure laziness. But exercise brings something officially called "Runner's High". Similar to dope. As I went through the trail, with Peter Gabriel blasting Sledgehammer, the solitude just melted the stress and toxicity of the entire week. As I sit on the couch after 20 minutes of stretching, I really don't give a damn to the mannerisms and maneuvering of dishonest folks. Life is too short to worry about negativity. One should spend as much as time as possible in doing things that brings pure joy.

Seeking sweetness

​Recipe for Coconut-macadamia-banana muffins​: 

Ingredients:

2/3 cup raw macadamia nuts, chopped

2/3 cup unsweetened coconut flakes/chips, chopped (or use shredded)

1 cup blanched almond flour

¼ cup coconut flour

3 ripe bananas, peeled and mashed

2 eggs

1/3 cup honey

1/3 cup extra virgin coconut oil, melted and cooled

¾ tsp baking soda

½ tsp salt

1 tsp lemon juice

1 tsp vanilla

Steps:

1.    Preheat oven to 350F.

2.    Toast macadamia nuts and coconut flakes on a baking sheet in the oven until starting to brown, about 6-8 minutes, stirring every 2-3 minutes.

3.    In a medium bowl, combine almond flour, coconut flour, salt and baking soda.  In a separate bowl, whisk eggs, mashed banana, honey, coconut oil, lemon juice and vanilla.

4.    Pour wet mixture over dry mixture and stir to combine.  Add toasted macadamia nuts and coconut.

5.    Spoon batter into greased muffin tin and bake for 30 minutes.

Demonstration Multipurpose School Blues

Myriad memories flashback: the first smell of monsoon rain after a scorching summer, the bare feet afternoon strolls to pluck guavas from the neighbor’s backyard, the street cricket matches, the small squabbles over marbles, and overall the unforgettable memories of my childhood buddies. Many times I will laugh aloud immersed in the past completely unaware that Bindu is watching. She would ask, “Again you are back in the DM days! Tell me what was so funny”.

Funny it was indeed but that was not all, it was a cauldron of emotions. It was one of the most joyous and carefree times of my life. This time came and disappeared in no time. Yet it left lasting impressions of a lifetime.

I will start with an interesting one first. You may associate the right emotion. It was an uneventful day until the PE class in the afternoon. I was quite anxious, as I had forgotten to wear my canvas shoes. However, I was not the only one. Sudeep[1] had done likewise. We knew that this was a serious offense. While I was quite nervous, Sudeep seemed unfazed. The PE class started with all students queuing up and Hajari sir was inspecting the uniforms of everyone. Sudeep stood before me and I waited with bated breath for my turn. Sir approached Sudeep and asked him the reasons for wearing sandals instead of the usual uniform. Sudeep started to sob and this prompted sir to go close to him. Sir asked softly, “What is wrong Sudeep. Are you all right”? Sudeep, in response, started sobbing a little louder and this prompted our teacher to repeat his question, with a hint of concern this time. Sudeep, encouraged by sir’s imminent kindness mustered enough courage to point to the cause of his sorrow. While continuing to sob, he pointed to a boil on his left eyelid. What happened after that is history; our teacher’s wrath resulted in many back sores but no more eye-sores; I mean eyesores!

A second memorable event is associated with a teacher who replaced our usual Math teacher for a few days in class V. He started the class with a quiz: “Who is he that sits between two mats and is an ics”? The class was silent for 5 minutes and then sir asked us to discuss possible answers. We started to murmur with our neighbours but found no clues to this puzzle. Sir then smilingly said, the answer lies in the subject of interest for this class, namely MAT-HE-MAT-ICS. With this interlude, sir aroused our interest in this mundane subject through his unique pedagogy. I thought to myself, who is this interesting teacher? Later, I learnt during the recess from my friends from another section that he is Mr. Kameswar Rao. I still remember his full name K. A. S. S. V. Kameswar Rao and I am sure many of you will recognize the prefixes – Kundulu, Appala Sita Satya Venkat. These were part of the DM folklore and I can’t ascertain the veracity of these.

Section C was an interesting class. We all came from Odiya medium unlike the other two sections and were in training to switch to full English medium from class VIII. However, academics and the challenges posed by the bilingual training was not always our focus.

We were a multitalented and diverse bunch of individuals and we excelled in mimicking our teachers and giving pet names to them, which were ranging from the Elephant (Hati) to the Ant (Janda)! While we had a few studious individuals who were always immersed in academics, many were excellent in sports, some great in arts and music and yet others whose main talent was related to creation of fun and frolic primarily through mischief. I will dwell upon one of my colleagues who belonged to the last category. While he was “vertically challenged” and seemed much smaller than the rest of his peers, he matched this shortfall with an immense ability of thinking laterally and beyond the comprehension of any one else. He was the unlikely leader of an “alternative segment”, who led all plotting and planning activities related to the next big prank. I will now relate an incident that changed the moral of our class forever.

The said incident happened when we were in class VIII and we were occupying one of the last classrooms on the first floor. Any teacher would have to walk a long corridor to come to our class. The leaders of the alternative segment would stand outside the classroom on the veranda when one class finished and we waited for the next teacher’s arrival. On this eventful day, we were waiting for the start of the Math lesson. Many students in our class didn’t like the style of teaching of this teacher and made fun of him usually in the background. On this eventful day, our teacher was approaching from the far end of this long corridor. At this point, someone from this alternative segment shouted the teacher’s pet name and then everyone ran into the classroom accompanied by a deafening noise.

Our teacher entered the class but was visibly upset and made the entire class stand for the whole period. We were advised that the incident will be reported to our much-revered Headmaster and no further Math classes will be conducted until the culprit came forward. The class stood in silence and no one came forward. This was repeated for three periods on three consecutive days, until the teacher’s patience ran out. For the next class, sir said that if we all stubbornly refuse to comply, we would all receive hits on our knuckles from his duster. This form of punishment continued for a few more days until something happened behind the scenes and the teaching resumed. I am not aware till this day regarding the nature of the solution or how it was arrived. However, this incident bears testimony to the nature of the unity and bonding between our classmates. While we fought and quarreled from time to time, our alternative segment would take a stand and would mend fences so that we came together again.

From these collective memories, I will now digress a bit into my school blues. I was inherently shy, frail and hence introverted. I came straight to class V from a very small Odiya medium UP school in Unit IX Bhubaneswar. DM, in contrast to my previous school, was massive with a large compound, many classrooms with large classes and a huge student population. The school was not just focused on academics but on a wholesome education involving sports, music, drama and classes involving life skills from carpentry to welding. I was in complete awe of this school and its pupils, the smart uniform clad pupils and the well-dressed and (usually) good-humored teachers. Due to my shy nature and frail built, it usually took me much longer to make new friends and I was struggling in the first few days. I would usually play by myself during the breaks.  One well-built colleague of mine spotted my weakness and whenever I saw him I took my gaze away and moved to a different spot. One day, I was sitting on a branch of a star fruit tree thinking that I was all by myself, when I noticed that my “not so fond” colleague was right beside me. When I stated to get down, he made a foul remark. In response, I was taken over with rage and my fist landed on his face. He retaliated brutally and we both fell on the ground.

Some magical thing happened afterwards. He got up first and forwarded his hand to help me get up. I didn’t realize how that happened. Maybe he sensed that this frail body frame was hiding something deeper. I also sensed that the hard exterior of my colleague was hiding a much softer side. We have never looked back since that day and became best friends for life. We complimented each other very well as he helped and protected me from many menacing situations, while I reciprocated through joint lessons and academic preparations before examinations. I will never forget my friend’s selfless service to many in our class.

It is now close to midnight and I will have to conclude reluctantly with deep admiration of those eventful days, the dedicated teachers, and the most remarkable friends that I reminisce forever.

---

[1] I have changed the names not to offend my friends.

The English, the language

Subhashis Panda

1) There is no wind in the football..
2) I talk, he talk, why you middle talk?.
3) You rotate the ground 4 times..
4) You go and understand the tree.
5) I'll give you clap on ur cheeks..
6) Bring your parents and your mother and especially your father.
7) Close the window airforce is coming.
8) I have two daughters and both are girls..
9) Stand in a straight circle..
10) Don't stand in front of my back.
11) Why Haircut not cut..?
12) Don't make noise.. principle is rotating in the corridor.
13) Why are you looking at the monkey outside the window when I’m here?
14) You talking bad habit.
15) Give me a red pen of any colour.
16) Can i have some snow in my cold drink?
17) Pick the paper and fall into the dustbin.
18) Both of u stand together separately.
19) Keep quiet the principal just passed away!!

TAMSA IN DMSLAND

Amidst the hazy memories of my entire school days some moments are of absolute clarion. The vivid memories of my first visit to the DMS. My first ever interview. Dressed in a white frock I entered the office of Mrs. J Sen, Headmistress of the primary wing, with my Bubu (father) very casually and greeted with a warm smile.  After the formal introduction and reciting few nursery rhymes I was asked to arrange different size of pink blocks in descending order to make a pyramid. I went on perfectly well till I reached the final stage. Instead of putting the smallest one on the top I placed it in the second (from the top) and was about to place on the slightly bigger one above it . Mrs Sen interrupted me and said, “Don’t you think the smallest one should be on the top, or else it will fall’’. But I was defiant and replied her “No it will not” and did it in ‘my way’. Lo and behold! It didn’t fall down!! She was very impressed and took me in her arms. She said to my Pa, “Mr Mohapatra, your daughter is a very confident and determined child.”

The tide of time eroded my confidence up to some extent in the later years.

The experiences of K.G Class are sweet. Miss Padmini was our class teacher.  Playing  with friends... Ringa Ringa Roses, Fire in the mountain, Lock and key, Dog and the Bone, Hide and Seek, Rumal Chori with song ‘ I sent a letter to my father on the way I dropped it ..A postman came and picked it up and put it in his pocket..’ was full of fun and joy .The innocent nuances of Ananya Dev who used to eat our tiffins!! Rita, Sujit Ganguly, Sujit Mukherji, Smarajit kanungo, Biswaranjan, Femina…and many more who continued in DMS but Femina left the school in midway. But many new friends joined later. Ultimately we had three sections from class V onwards.

I won my first fancy dress competition, dressed as a bride, in KG . After that the senior girls would  pamper me and pull my cheeks :)

How can I ever forget our adorable Ayah who is no more. May her soul be ever blessed.

Yearning for those carefree days and wonderful peers.

In the primary classes, school seemed like a home away from home. The affectionate  Mrs. Dipti Dutta, stern but a fabulous Maths teacher Miss Leela with a cane bag and of course the magic of the Majestic (late)Miss Benson engulfed everybody. She said to my Pa that I talk too much in the class and would indulge with long convos with my Pa :)

As I grew up my favourite place was our school Library which had a huge collection of variety of classy books. I read all the 14 volumes of Krishnavatara by K M Munshi. But my fav were those of Enid Blyton’s series of The Famous Five, Amelia Jane and Mr Twiddle.

The SUPW classes were interesting and at times boring. Made a vegetable cutter and egg whipper in the Metal class. In the Home Science class we were trained in stiching, knitting and some easy cookings. I learned to make sandwiches in a hand toaster but never allowed by my mother to try at home. Truly multipurpose! Hated the HPER classes but have the highest regards for Hanan Sir, one of the finest man I have ever come across.

Lost touch with my friends for decades but much delighted to be connected through the social media. Minakshi, Sipra, Minati, Chinmayee, Biswajita,  Neeta, Sasmita, Kaumudee ..you all are darlings :)
The ever enthusiastic and exuberant boys of DMS'83 are awesome :)

Wrapping it up with a few lines –

“Many a times the musical waves of my heart

 Sank into the Sea of Silence

 When melancholy weaves my memory loom

 Hoping for crimson roses to bloom”

Cheers and Best wishes to all my dear friends :)

Holding on to the best days of my life ...

I have only foggy memories of school. Mixed reminisces, most of which I cannot even call my own. However, I often muse over the fact that I never wanted to bunk school, not even on sick days when my dad threatened to call the headmaster, if I did not relent.  

For some reason, it always felt like one big family. N Mishra Sir would often remark, “Mayurbhanj ra Adivasi pila guda bhala padhuchanti ta!” Often times, I reveled in past glory, for my brothers were the real “good” students. One time Kameswar Rao Sir caught me red-handed – and my mom’s laborious pleas to my brother to do my homework was wasted! “This is your brother’s writing. Don’t repeat this act!” Little did anyone know that my brother often had to write down debate points for my so-called ‘extempores’.

Our class boys were so funny, every day was a unique experience with newer pranks and newer adventures in DMS and RCE combined campus. Biswajita and I were a bonded pair, though every girl from A/B/C felt like a BFF those days. Biswajita’s charm and style was something I forever tried hard to emulate. I remember feeling very proud knowing her sister in law from US personally when she visited our school. With Rajesh Srivastava, I had a special bond even though I so wished that for once Hanan Sir would give the boys low marks in HPER, so that I could spring ahead in the total tally. Rajesh never ever had the shyness that is so common at that age.

Over the years, as I disconnected from Bhubaneswar, I had some flashing memories of ~

• Shailaja’s great memorizing skills and Sipra’s perfect English and Geography
• Sid Sahu’s flowing proses and Jayant’s melodious voice
• Rajesh Chintak’s cool demeanor and Tridib’s command over his now-famous ‘gang’
• Sandeep’s red shirt and Tariq’s style
• Geeta's crisp uniforms and Sankalpa's quintessential Bengali ways

While my nights were often somber and interjected with spurts of pain my mom felt, my days at school were so bright and cheerful that they more than made up for everything. The school bus trips were in particular, very pleasant, and almost erased the weariness stemming from lack of proper sleep.

SACHHI DIL KI BAAT

Debasish Panigrahi


Zindagi ki shuruwati safar mein chale the hum saath saath
Taare chhune ki tammana thi to chhuta hamari aur aapki saath
Poojta hoon is social media ko jo phir se pahunchaya mere dil ki baat
Warna kaise batlate hum aap sab hein humare kitne khaas
Doston, ye ek ehsas hai - mitne nahin denge, pura hai vishwas
Ye hai mere sachhi dil ki baat

Experiences

Debasish Panigrahi.

1. Once in the game of hide n seek I was to find others in hiding. I didn't like to find them. So I also hid myself. After sometime they realised that they have been fooled n came out very angry.  Notably upset SD paaji went after me all through the playground in front. But his long legs were no match for my speed. All through the day he gave me very angry looks which I remember n enjoy.

2. I scribbled something on a piece of paper on my 1st crush/luv n kept inside a book. Sid Sahu borrowed the book n got the chit. It became a weapon in his hand n he continued to blackmail me for every little thing n I was just a puppet at his disposal n I didn't enjoy it at all.

3 . There r many more but others may have better ones n I must stop here.

The Free Fall - Jayanta Mukherjee

One day after lunch Rajesh Srivastava and myself quietly went to the stage behind our school, bunking our Music class. As we were playing and gossiping, Rajesh climbed up to the beam on the top and reached the center. He encouraged me to join him. At first I was a bit reluctant, but my friend’s constant motivation inspired me to hang myself there too! We were both enjoying the game and as I was almost about to reach Rajesh, we both heard the dreaded voice -“Hey You There, Hold On, I am coming”. Both of us turned back to see in the direction of the voice. Can you guess who was it?

It was our Jungle Man – K.C. Das and was heading at a huge speed to catch us red handed. Both of us were petrified! Rajesh’s face was a tomato and mine must have looked like I had just swallowed a bottle of bitter gourd juice! I wanted to scream - “AB TO MAR GAYE”. Rajesh had better reflexes so he jumped down immediately. I was still hoping for a miracle! KCD was approaching nearer and Rajesh was already on his GYARAH NUMBER KI GADI towards the library. Friends are friends. As he was running away, he was still shouting “ABE KUD YAAR KUD”. I did not know what to do and was feeling horribly scared. All sorts of thoughts were coming to my mind, as to what would happen if I am caught. He would perhaps hit me left and right and also complain to my parents. Soon the whole class would know of it, and… “Oh! My God, what a disgrace!”

Somehow the miracle happened and I jumped, my eyes tightly closed and my lips muttering “JAI BAJARAG BALI”. I had a couple of seconds of FREE FALL! My trance ended and I fell on thorny bushes below with a thud. I opened my eyes and saw that “ALL IS WELL”. I followed Rajesh towards the library. Once we both were together, we hugged each other and started laughing and dancing…. “BACH GAYE YAAR”. KCD could not run after us and he left the trail. Suddenly we wondered what if KCD comes from the other side! We ran towards the Music Room, entered it and sat quietly like good boys. Luckily, Music Madam was not there in the class at that moment. LADY LUCK WAS ON OUR SIDE THAT DAY. We never mentioned about this incident to anyone else. We managed not to fall in front of KCD for some time. Later, he also must have forgotten our faces and we were safe enough to play our next prank!

My tributes to our great teachers - Pradeep Sahu

My Tributes....On the Occasion of Golden Jubilee of DMS…My tributes to the great teachers/ GURUs at DMS who were excellent. They made us believe in ourselves and told was there was light at the end of the tunnel…They are GODs for us…

I would like to take this opportunity to pay my tributes to our late Headmaster Mr K.C.Das. (Although much has been written in appreciation of this great soul but still I feel it is too less as compared to his contributions to society).

I remember my 1st class teacher in Class V, Section B, Mrs. Pramila Sathpathy. She was an excellent, caring personality yet strict. She was the first one ever to have taught us the basics about learning Odia at school. Thank you a lot ma’m because you are the One who started it for me, whatever I’m today, you are the one who instilled the love for my mother tongue. I remember how I sulked in Odia Grammer! I had to work on it a lot! You were the one who made me the class monitor.…

Miss Mickey Benson (late)!!! Ma’m..Me and all my batch mates will certainly miss you a lot. We were just AWE STRUCK by your teachings, sense of dressing, the aura, and your love as our class teacher. You were a great human being and I pray for your soul to rest in peace and may the almighty give you a place in his abode for you to guide us from heaven. We will miss your many English dramas like the Merchant of Venice and other Shakespeare dramas.

Mr. Konduru Kameswar Rao!!! How can I forget Sir. He was very strict with us boys, and used to handle the girls with utmost care. He was this bachelor teacher who had weakness for fashionable dresses and Maths. He had a very unique way of teaching Maths. His English with a Telugu accent was very interesting. He used to give tuition to many of our batch mates. He used to visit my neighbor’s house (Srinivas Bhai’s) and S.L.Mohan Rao’s house on his new cycle and give me a few tips on how to solve Maths problems. After school, almost after 25 years, last year I had a chance meeting with Sir at a wedding reception at Hotel Surayansh and invited him to my home. The next day...very early morning Sir was at my place to meet Sujata and Isha. He explained to Isha how one can excel in life with music and maths. It was a great moment for me and my family.

Mr P.N. Mishra Sir!!! This great English teacher with his white dress, hat and impeccable signature of Paramananda Mishra laid a strong foundation in English in all of us. I still cannot forget how he made us practice the heel marching and his commanding voice to make corrections in our postures during the practice sessions in NCC, and OMG how handsome he looked on those national festival days in the ceremonial dress and leading the parade in the parade grounds with the shining sword in his hands. He was just very royal and impressive the way he carried himself in the class and in the parade grounds.

Mr.B.B.Nayak Sir!!! This gentlemen teacher was the most feared but he was too good with his English Grammar teachings and who can forget his anger when silly mistakes were made while answering his Qs.

Mr. N. Mishra Sir!!! One of his daughters was our classmates and another our senior. Sir used to teach us English also. He was very particular about pronunciation. He was too thin and his daughters were much thinner. I recently met his elder daughter who is working as a SBI manager and enquired about sir's health. Sir is not doing well. My prayers will always be for his good health.

The late Mr. N. Rai who shouted at us while we went about understanding the History of India all through the ages. We were all least interested with the long notes he dictated and made various kinds of noises, and then he would shout at us not to jump like frogs in the classroom and we had all fun when he was not looking at us.

Mr. G.N. Das, he was witty, intelligent, learned and was great in his English... teaching us Civics. With his rye smile he used to have a sense of purpose in his classes. He was lovingly called JANDA by all his students.

Mr. Debraj Sahoo, Sir!! used to teach us Geography and then he left for higher studies for a few years and then again was back in school after a few years.

Mr. P.N.Panda Sir!!! How can anyone forget sir? He had a unique style of delivery. He used to punish each one of us when we were unable to answer his questions by saying Dhala Dhala Shirt re Kala Kala Bottama answer dela bela ku nahin tora nama…and his “stand up on the chair” shouts. We all used to giggle when the huge bodied ones stood up on the chair blocking Sir’s view from us. We had fun at the back when Tridib used to stand on the chair in front of us.

Mrs. Sandhya Mohanty!!! Ma’m was our class teacher and was unmarried when she joined school. She used to teach us Maths. I loved the way she used to shout at us for not doing the problem solving and forcing her to do it on the black board. She used to get irritated while we had fun in the back benches.

Mr. S.S.Das!!! Sir used to teach us Chemistry and he was really very good in his subject. He was strict and disciplined in his lectures. Although we enjoyed his teachings but many of us were not very good in understanding the complexities behind the many chemical equations he taught us.

I wish all my teachers [alongwith Mrs. Celinama Ma’m and (late) Mrs. B. Samal Ma’m!!! (both taught us Biology), Mr. Samal (Fine Arts), Mrs. Sarala Jena (Music), Mrs. Anjali Tripathy (Geography), Mr. Sankar Mishra (Maths), Mr. S.L. Mohan Rao and Mr. K.C. Mishra sir ( both taught us Hindi), Mr. L.K.Bhopa Sir (Maths), Mr. Hazari Sahoo and (Late) Mr. S.A. Hanan (Sports teachers) and many other teachers who shaped and moulded us] GOD's abundant blessings, good health, peace and happiness.

I love my friends, my school and my school days - Pranati Mohanty

Hello, friends. I am very late to share my feelings of my schooldays. All of a sudden, I wish to write something about our '83 batch mates. I was having a very nice time with my cousins out of Bhubaneswar during the summer holidays of 1977. All of a sudden my father called back me to attend the written test at D.M. School. I was a little bit hesitant to attend that test as all my old friends had joined other schools. However, I appeared the test in spite of my unwillingness. And, to my utter surprise I found myself to be placed in the 12th position of the merit list.Till today I couldn't forget that day. However, following my elder brother in Std. IX , I joined the school.

On the first day I met Sailaja at the corridor of the school. When I entered the classroom I found a shy girl sitting on the first row of the class that is Kaumudee..... Presently, she is Dr. Kaumudee of that day. I had some interaction with her. In the boys' side Ashutosh was sitting on the first row whom I could know after our interaction with class teacher. Now I am refreshing my memory with Ashutosh's Kotha Bhoga Khiya bhajan of that time. Later I met Sasmita Patnaik, Geeta, Gayatri, Subhra, Sasmita Mishra who used to be my previous classmate. At that time I was thinking Subhra as an old student of the school as she was having a leader type personality from that time also. Even today I couldn't forget Geeta's all-round performance in study, art, music, dance, debate so ... so. Subhra was outstanding in sports activities; was enjoying my tiffin time with Sasmita Patnaik, Neeta, Kaumudee , with the Chat & gupchup walas. In Std. VI, I got two prizes in 100 mts race and skipping race in Annual Sports, which was my starting career in the school . That I got haphazardly without any practice.

In SUPW, I had prepared a metal mug out of coconut oil container with Satyabrata as my silent partner. Actually our teachers at that time created tremendous enthu among us to move forward in all fields.

One of our friends, Suchismita Mishra died in tonsillitis operation in Std. V, in whose memory our Kabbadi Championship Cup was promoted. Fortunately, to our utter grace we won that Kabbadi Championship Cup consecutively for three years since Std. VI defeating our strong seniors & also won Khokho Championship for two years. Thanks to the effort of Ms. T. Roy, who is no more. Thanks to the tremendous effort put forth by our team members namely Minakshi, Meeta, Kamakshi, Biswajita, Neeta, myself and Subhra as the Captain of the Kabbadi Team.We were seriously enjoying those games at that time. Sailaja was the Queen of the track at her times and was having Sports Championship for few years. I still remember Sailaja telling me "To Munda To Lanja". I don't know what she was meaning at that time.

We enjoyed our picnics to Kapilash and Baliharchandi with our seniors at that time. We had gone for a study tour to Ajanta, Ellora in Std. IX with my friend Geeta, Chandrama, Kaumudee, Meeta, Minati , Debadatta, Siddhartha, Sandeep Dhawan, Palash accompanied by our Head Master Mr. K.C. Das, Mr. S. Das, Mr. J.N.Das, Sandhya Ma'm, Renu Ghosh Ma'm. We enjoyed the trip a lot at that time.

Mriganka, Geeta, Himanshu, Parthasarathy, Madhulita, Biswaranjan's outstanding academic performance still live in my memory. Minati entered into our batch later in Std. VII. She used to perform several dance programs with Geeta at that time.

I still remember Ambuja's swift and fast running in the corridor of the Assembly Hall in spite of strict warning of our Head master Mr. K.C. Das, who is no more with us now. Ambuja & Satyajit's naughty & haughty activities of that time shall be in the memory of all our friends. Sorry, for the sad demise of Satyajit at such an early age.

I admire the innocence of our Oriya teacher Mrs. S. Devi & our geography teacher Mrs. Anjali Tripathy's annoyance, Mr. P.N. Mishra's dynamic personality as our class teacher, Sankar Sir's Maths class, Uttam Sir & Madan Sir's Oriya Drama & poems.

However to my utter surprise in 2009 or 2010, I was astonished & delighted to see one of my classmate named Pradeep as my teacher in my MBA Class, whom I couldn't recognize instantly. After his self-introduction he informed me about some of our friends.

Although I left the School after Std X, still I am in contact with both the Sasmitas, Gayatri , Bhubaneswari, Ajit, Susant, Byomojit , Siddhartha, Manoj, Manoranjan who are staying locally We had gone for picnic at Dhauli, Ramchandi, Puri , Chilka during last 7/8 years.

Cherished with the sweet memories of those school days still I feel myself to be in that age, Still I am longing for those sweet memorable days. However, most of our friends are well placed in several fields and some of them are also settled abroad who shall be missing our school and schooldays a lot, but we the friends staying locally are refreshing our memories of schooldays while passing at the side of the school.

At last I wish to say that I love my friends, my school and my school days.

Also published in D.M. School's Golden Jubilee Souvenir, 2014.

If you carry your childhood with you, you never become older - Neeta Mohanty

This is straight from my heart for the Souvenir. 
 
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A 9-year old girl in 1977 came for an entrance exam in DM school to follow her two older brother’s footsteps. Memory is fading as to what the entrance exam was about, however the girl didn’t make it and ended up in first place in waiting list. DMS forgotten, she started in another school. About couple of months later, a letter came from DM School that a spot has opened up in fifth class and if the family was interested? Her father was happy with joy and jumped in to the opportunity and took her to the school next day. The ride to school (standing in front of his father’s Vespa scooter) was a long ride. As soon as they entered the school campus, the little girl was delighted to see the vast fields, the rows of Karamanga trees, the garden, the while compound wall that became daily routine for next 8 years! 30 years would pass by since 10th and the little girl named Neeta Mohanty would be fortunate enough to write for the golden jubilee celebration of the beloved school that laid down the foundation in her life. 
 
Joining school late was little challenging and there was lot of catching up to do. The structured education system in DM School was little challenging as well since my primary school years was split between multiple schools. Being one of the shortest girls in the class, I defaulted to first row along with Gayatri and Kaumudee, hence bonded with them the most initially. I always envied the tall girls, Minati and Sasmita Mishra who would get the prime location, the back row!! It did not take me long to feel like home, the teachers and friends, and the silly incidents would leave a permanent sweet spot in the memory. 
 
Sankar Sir, B.B Nayak, P.N Mishra, G.N Das, Sarala madam, Kalpana madam, Hanan Sir to name a few have laid the foundation. Salute to all the teachers.

Memories are many. Along with the academics, HPER, SUPW, and the language classes were one of a kind at the time. Home science was mostly for girls but I do not recall doing one thing right in that class. We had to knit a pair of socks once and mine did not look anything like a sock!! Remember building a board game in the electric class and some house hold items in the carpentry class. There was rivalry between boys and girls in the same section then there was rivalry within each section. Many nick names were created for friends and teachers. I had one too!! The nick names became permanent in the friend circle. I was afraid of some boys from senior classes and would not make eye contact and look the opposite way if I had to go past them for some reason. Recess was the most enjoyable part of the day. We used to run to the little hill behind the library (named as Mount Everest by us) as soon as the recess bell rang to have lunch at top of Mount Everest!! At times I would accompany Geeta to her house during recess. Toward the end of class 10th, we girls decided to have a feast. An all-girls meeting was called and it was unanimously decided not to include the boys, do not recall the logic behind it. We selected Minati house’s roof top as the feast spot. In the menu was bhata, dali, egg curry, and salad. Not bad for bunch of 15 year olds! I recommended a whopping 5 kg rice for 11 girls and wanted to confirm that with my sister to make sure we would have enough!! The rest is history; she still makes fun of me to this day.

Making fun of the teachers and then getting caught was not uncommon. Tattle-telling was part of life so was kid romance. Nothing has changed much though, life has come in full circle and I see the same in my 6th grade kids. I am looking forward to relive my childhood days by going back to school for the Golden Jubilee celebration. 
 
There is a saying “If you carry your childhood with you, you never become older”. Long live DMS tradition.

Also published in the DM School, Bhubaneswar's Souvenir on the occasion of its Golden Jubilee celebration.

Happiness and pleasure in simple things - Chinmayee Sahu

Those golden memories of my school days in D M school, when I try to remember, I muse over countless episodes of the treasured memories.

Everyday, I would saunter, hop onto the broken wired fences, cross the vast stretch of field and enter the Assembly area from the backyard, greet my friends with a wide smile. If you’ll all remember, greeting your friends with a “hi” back then was a new trendsetter and everyone found it fashionable enough to emulate it. Madhulita, Dharitri ...and me would stare at every other girl who came from the corridor, watching intently to find their lips shaping a perfunctory “hi” that would amuse us time after time and the three of would fall into fits of laughter. Our giggles and incessant gossip would come to an end when the khaki clad peon, Bankim would strike the heavy metalled plate hung near the drinking water tank, with a huge hammer. Our revered headmaster dressed in crisp white khadi with a heavy key bunch clattering in his right hand would soon appear in quick rapid steps and suddenly the noisy chatter would die down for the National Anthem to be sung.

I relished those moments when during the break time we girls would rush to the college building on the other side to play ‘help sister’ in the big open area near the auditorium hall. We would scream, laugh out loud and create so many rackets that one day the college authorities sent in a complaint about all the disturbances and eventually we were forbidden from playing there. 

Games periods were full on masti time except for the interludes of the commonly detested drill sessions. The mood would be very passionate and fervent during the Kabaddi matches, refereed by Taru madam with her characteristic whistle set in her lips. I still remember that victorious moment during a match, when I managed to grab Kamakshi’s leg and then our team dragged her to our side, she struggled and wrestled but could not reach the dividing line.... and she was out. She did not talk with me the whole day!

Karamanga trees in the school premises hold such priceless memories for me. Wonderful hours were spent walking with friends in the small Karamanga garden and savouring the khatta-mittha juicy fruit. God only knows how many!

Those were the days when we found happiness and pleasure in simple things. We have had such a wonderful time in the school.

I had been to the school in 2012 as an invigilator for the 10th Board Exam. As I walked through the corridor where the National Anthem is still sung, I reminisced those charming memories of school days and it was a bittersweet moment for those were the days of past and would never return.