It was love at first sight - Mriganka Das

 

The year 1981. My dad had just scored an assignment in the Middle East. Our family then in Burla, had to cope with a strange whirlwind of change, as our lives went floating like a river through a rainforest, full of surprises and the indomitable human spirit of coping and rising up from adversity. It was decided that since I was in 9th grade in Saint Joseph's in Sambalpur which followed the ICSE curriculum- it was too risky to follow him abroad and study in an International school(unlike my sisters), and so I had to move to Bhubaneswar and live with my uncle in his Acharya Vihar home. The inevitable search for a school started in earnest and had to be done with a degree of urgency. The dad and uncle took me to Stewart school - and it didn't strike the sense of zen that calms the disquiet of massive life changes. The place seemed not a right fit for me. I refused to take the entrance test and walked out.

Next up, my late uncle who was my childhood hero (a Physics PhD from UC Riverside, California who was faculty at the Institute of Physics) suggested a school that was ten minutes up the hill from his house called DM school. My uncle later moved to USA and was a Professor in Richmond Virginia. He was the one who bridged my gap between the ICSE math and the CBSE math, spending time with me that he didn't have to. He also took me to the dorms of the University of Virginia when I first arrived in US after Pilani - like a second father.

When, I saw DM school, it was love at first sight. The commute was short, the campus was sprawling, had loads of space and seemed very welcoming, the stuff that form the genesis of dreams for a sixteen year old, my own version of Hogwarts. There was a mystique about it, the playground was huge and there was a palpable air of excitement that the place exuded. I told my Dad, this is it - let us do it!

We enrolled for the entrance exam. I sat through it and it comprised of a few subjects the details of which has been purged from the memory banks. We came back the next day and were given some good news and some bad news. The good news was that I had made it. The bad news was there was no space in Sections A and B, and the only place they could put me was Section C. The Principal and the lady Oriya teacher looked at me with probing stares and asked me how much Oriya I knew in terms of reading and writing. I panicked as I had not done any Oriya after fourth grade and the Oriya I had done in ICSE was laughable, kindergarten stuff. However I wasn't going to let that deter me. I looked at the Oriya teacher in the eye and asked her what is the highest grade people could score in Oriya. She said 75% if you are lucky. I told the Principal- that's fine, I have got two years and this is my mother tongue - give me a shot, and I asked the Oriya teacher please help me just a bit. She was a very compassionate lady and she changed her tune. She saw the silent exhortation in my eyes and took pity, bless her soul. She said to me not to worry and she would help me with the language and told the Principal to go ahead and admit me.

In the end, after the CBSE board I went to meet the lady. I had tears in my eyes for all that she had done for me. I had scored a 72 on the Oriya exam and will never forget her magnanimity - she was very kind and told me that I had done everything that she expected of me and more - what a wonderful lady. That had made me meet all these wonderful friends and a great time in DM school - I even remember rooting for Amiya to do so great in cricket so he could represent state and country. I remember playing badminton with Durani and Subhashis. I remember playing wall cricket with Satyakam and being in awe of his dad. I remember most of you even if I can't make this an essay. I remember the girls, Sipra, Minakshi, Neeta, Geeta, and even Subhra Pathi who isn't here in the group. I remember the effusive Dhawan and Tridib. Of course remember Chintak and Subodh and the Vani Vihar khatti group and the nameless young ladies who made the evenings interesting. Pushp who circumstances brought us together again later in life and I share a special bond with as do our families. Sid and Debasis, who fearlessly patrolled the streets of Acharya Vihar looking for damsels in distress and not in distress - and later Sid has become family. I remember our Babu moshais - DK, Sankalpa and Jayanta (sans his impressive mustache) - remember our aluminum baron Gautam, Rajesh Das and the mercurial Srivastava. Rupak too - heartening to know that someone thinks that a country with 1.2 billion people needs some help. Biswaranjan was always the one with the sharp wit - Bimal calm and collected. I feel lucky that the Good Lord had woven me into a rich tapestry of the people in the best batch in the best school in Orissa. It propelled me to go on and like all of us a great journey whose final chapters are yet to be written. That has brought me back full circle again to this group, full of wonderful friends and lifelong relationships that will not be erased by time or distance.