75 th Anniversary , a Platinum jubilee.

A Platinum jubilee, 75 years ! Wonder why they call the 75 th year a platinum jubilee ? As if you could measure the progress of any institution in blocks of 25 years, and equate their struggles and success to the value of a a metal. Sophias, maybe one of the youngest amongst the convent schools in Bangalore, and yet one of the educational institutions that has achieved the most. I am a product of this prestigious school and can say, its mark I bear with great pride .

A small group of nuns, of the Sacred Heart’s order, arrived from foreign lands, their hearts set on imparting valuable education to the children of the then, newly independent India and started a school in Bangalore. They were firm in their resolve and undeterred by the hardships, by the adversities, faced . Striving on, canvassing for students with neighbours and the then merchant families, they struggled . It was no easy task to convince parents to send their children to school, especially the girls, but determined they were, and managed to register a small number of students .

So it is this nascent school started in 1949, two years after our country’s independence, with just a handful of students, and grew in leaps and bounds to establish itself as one of the most sought after educational institution in the country. It was just a young twenty seven years when we graduated. Looking at the hordes of students, old and young, former and current, gathered on the evening of 3 rd August 2024, to celebrate the 75 th anniversary , you would never imagine its humble beginnings.

Arriving early , dressed in the assigned colours, as decided by our batch, I entered the hallowed gates and time rolled back. For a moment, I was that little girl on her first day at school, lost in the crowd, in a sea of unfamiliar faces. Walking up to the registration counter, greeted by warm friendly faces handing out identification badges and wrist bands,with beaming smiles, I felt welcome again. Walking towards the designated spot, where our class was to meet, I was greatly relieved to see my friends, and their familiar faces.

After the initial meet and greet, after the jokes and inane laughter, we chose to go to the auditorium. We pinned on our exclusive ‘76 batch badge developed by our classmate, above the school badge, and felt like prominent, decorated students. The building that once housed our classrooms had vivid, colourful murals of unrecognisable art , the backdrop of which was used for photographs. Dazzling lights lined the path, as we walked and noted the many changes, the additions, the deletions, the new buildings, the old, and one of us even commented that the lunch pavilion which was once so large, seemed to have shrunk in size .

It was on the way that we spotted the victory stand, a stand that was always elusive, out of my reach, during my entire school days. Not being athletic, I never participated in any sports and had no chance to climb the stand. It was beckoning, as if giving me a second chance and not wanting to miss the opportunity, I quickly got on in the second place, not to be overly ambitious, and my athletic friends took the first and third place. As might be expected there were many pictures taken, for the scrap book.

Further along the way , there was coffee and snacks available, for all those who cared, or needed refreshments. The auditorium was new and impressive, with tiered seating, that quickly filled to its full capacity of 1300. Some of our friends who had reached early, reserved space in front for the whole batch. Quite conspicuously placed, we featured in many photographs and were known as the ‘ showcase’ batch . The air was thick with excitement, the variety entertainment and singing, were second to none, but still there was a backdrop of incessant chatter, hooting and whistling in the crowded hall. Calls for pin drop silence elicited a momentary hush, that soon turned into a crescendo of lively chit chat again.

After the entertainment, we walked out into the open air, the game’s field, a place that brought memories flooding back . The times we spent, running and chasing one another, the times we spent crushing on someone or discussing our crushes, times we spent bullying the timid or lending a helping hand, the times we spent telling tales or just simply playing games, all with no care in the world, when time had no power over us. More photographs were taken, of old friends together, of mothers and daughters together, of fathers and sons, all under the umbrella of ‘ old students of Sophia’s’ .

Dinner was a short affair, under the star studded sky, with music from the 70’s to serenade us, much to our delight . After which we went around meeting girls from other batches, boys from our own batch, some teachers we remembered and even the oldest of the former students , who were all of 75 years, and there were more photographs. The climax was a moment with Sr. Anita, the nun who was everyone’s favourite, the nun who had touched the life of the oldest to the youngest student of Sophia’s . She sat there regally, as we each paid homage to her and needless to add, more photographs taken .

We then went off to put our thumbprint in our house colours, on the memory tree. Standing before the tree, we took a moment to remember the unfortunate ones, no longer in the land of the living . It was then time to leave, and in an orderly fashion we each found our ride home . We would carry with us the excitement of the Platinum Jubilee, to remember, to discuss, to share with our friends who could not attend, the details to regale, of every occurrence. Though it is almost a week the euphoria of the 75 th anniversary celebration has still not worn off and our WhatsApp chats are overflowing with pictures of the beautiful moments captured.