This year’s Old Sanawarian London lunch was held on Sunday, 21 May 2023, with great success.

This was the first lunch after a break of three years due to Covid. The previous lunch had been held in May 2019.

These London OS lunches or dinners have a very long history. There is a record of one such meeting in 1950, when over 100 Old Sanawarians met in dinner jackets. These meetings were held in London at the Veterans’ club till 2008, in May every year. They were organised by the Secretary of the very old OS Association , Ms. Violet Tilley, (the fourth daughter of Sergeant Tilley, of Tilley’s Hill fame).

In 2001 , Aruna Mongia (Anu), née sharma (NGD 1967) started a London lunch on behalf of the newer Old Sanawarian Society (OSS). These lunches were held at around Diwali time. So, for a time, there were two lunches every year, one in May and one at Divali. The pre 1947 British Old Timers from the Association attended the newer OS Society lunches and vice versa. In 2008 the old OS Association (Ms Tilley’s group ) closed, and (Anu’s) newer OS Society moved its lunches to the 3rd Sunday in May. And so these became the single, joined lunches of both the old and new groups. They would gather the Old Timers ( mostly the pre 1950 British ), the Middle Timers (1950-2000) and the New Timers (2000 onwards), and a great time would be had by all. (See one or two reports of previous lunches in the links below.)

In 2018, after twenty years of service, Anu Mongia handed over leadership of the OS Society to Richa Renawat (HDG 2000). In 2021 Karan Gupta (HBD 1996) took over and when he moved to India this year, Shristi Mahajan (NGD 1995) kindly took over.

With Covid, and the changes in leadership, this year’s lunch was somewhat hastily arranged, on the appointed date of the third Sunday of May 2023, at the Bombay Brasserie in South Kensington, opposite Gloucester Road tube station.

So, in keeping with this long tradition, your reporter arrived around 12.30 pm on this Sunday of 21 May 2023, easily finding the venue because it had not changed from the previous occasion, a useful advantage.

As you entered the restaurant on this sunny morning, you were quite surprised by the very large, dark, high-ceiling hall into which you entered. The hall was panelled with dark wood and there was not a single window. All around were deep, leather armchairs and sofas, and a huge fireplace. Along one wall was a long stylish bar. The only light in the room came from the glass wall behind the bar, entirely lit from behind, from floor to ceiling.

On the walls of this large lobby were many large, ornately framed photographs of an old, bygone India: of Maharajas, Pankhawallas, Viceroys, Rolls Royces… It was a wonderful, soothing room to enter.

Two polite, Indian hat check girls at the entrance ticked you off the guest list.

Through the dark room, through two, large, high doors, you entered the very large, long dining hall, full of bright sunlight. The light came from a large bay along the whole right side of this room, a bay with floor to ceiling windows, leading to a porch.

On the ceiling were three grand chandeliers, two along the long room and one over the bay with the windows.

Yes, the architect had succeeded in taking us through a dark tunnel to this lovely, bright dining room.

And on this Sunday morning, there was much happening. Old Sanawarians of various ages, genders, colours, shapes and sizes were streaming in. And quickly bunching together as they recognized each other. The chatter increased in volume and speed with the numbers.

And here are the numbers:
 31 booked and prepaid.
 5 came at the last minute.
 No last minute cancellations !
 Total attendance: 36.
 Entrance fee: £48 pp

There was a little early confusion because , alas, Shristi Mahajan ( GD 1995), the organiser of the event had a last minute hitch and could not be there to welcome us, but Gursehaj Singh Bhattal (SBD 2015) rose to the occasion and took charge. We were soon chaperoned to our three private tables.

As we had all prepaid for the lunch, the only important things missing were the name tags, an important appendix in any large gathering. But we made up by straining our ears and jotting names with paper and pencil.

Your reporter soon found himself seated on the smaller of the three reserved tables, with the older Middle Timers (1950 – 2000).

The first important observation of the day was that there were no real very Old Timers, none of the golden Old Timers of pre-1950! It was a sad observation. Had we lost touch with all of them? Had we lost some of them to Covid? These were worrying thoughts. Even the most regular Old Timers were not to be seen. Later in the day your reporter heard that Anu Mongia had contacted those on her old list and had had early replies from Derek Boddington, Bob Massingham and Timothy Carter. They had been looking forward to attend but alas, on the last days before the event, were not well enough. They had sent appropriate regrets, which we herewith share.

Back on the Middle Timer table there were many familiar faces. First of all the two Kadan brothers, senior Yashvir Kadan (SBD 1957) and junior Rajvir Kadan (SBD 1962) and Rajvir’s wife Veera , who come faithfully to every such meeting. Rajvir recounted, in a very soft-spoken voice, an out of the blue encounter with an OS of another generation, who turned out to be a great collector of old photographs of the Raj. This was a topical subject, because all around us were just these very large photographs of the Indian Raj. To your reporter’s surprise, Rajvir enlightened us, with some disdain, that all these large, heavily framed, precious looking photographs on the walls were fakes, copies, worthless! Already something learned, and the proceedings had hardly begun!

Opposite were seated my Headboy Kamal Katoch (NBD 1962) and his elegant wife, Damni, with grey bobbed hair, every inch a Headgirl herself. Earlier, when people were arriving, and we needed leadership, Mrs Damni Katoch stepped up, took charge, seated us in the right place. And Kamal Katoch, wearing a jacket with a large, gold embroidered SANAWAR badge, was in fine form. As just mentioned he was my Headboy, in Nilagiri House in 1962, 2 years my senior. In chit-chat he took my news at Sanawar, and came up with a string of names of boys in my batch and my dormitory. You were left in awe: such memory, such seriousness. To remember the names of your wards of 65 years ago! Another lesson learned: office, duty, gives you capacity, lifelong strength.

Nearby were also seated Harbir Singh and his lovely wife Satwant. Harbir was familiar to your reporter because he often joined the monthly zoom OS Poetry Circle meetings , run by your reporter. More recently he was a star in OS circles, as a Hodson runner. A month earlier, on 15 April 2023, as part of the 175 th year celebrations, the school had organised an OS Hodson run in Sanawar. Harbir, and a few others, had the clever idea of doing a Hodson run wherever we were in the world, at the same real time as the Sanawar championship! Harbir did his run around Harrow, in outer London, and his name is now in the annals. At least one other OS also joined in, in Paris. Tilley’s Hill was moved around the globe for our convenience!

This is a good moment to congratulate and thank the OS presidents and their teams for bringing Sanawar so close to all of us through the internet. Starting with previous president General Kulpreet Singh, followed by present president Major Sharma, followed by acting and next president Pankaj Sapru, all helped by young Simrith, the team has transformed the whole OS landscape. We are all so close to our alma mata because of technology, but also and mainly, because of the hard thinking and hard work of these teams. Recently there have been wonderful things happening that we OS could enjoy and participate in via the internet. You could join in in all of the special events at the 175th Founders. Through the year, you could enjoy various matches and plays, a literary festival, a Hodson run, a poetry circle, and the show goes on and on. So all those who are not yet connected to the various activities of the school and the OS Society , do use the links provided below to connect with the school. You will surely find some activities and people you will enjoy including in your present life and, with them, walk the lovely walks and breath the sweet mountain air of your childhood.

Returning to the Middle Timers’ table, we had the pleasant company of James Coombes, a British Middle Timer who finished in 1954. He goes to Sanawar regularly and was present for the last big Founders in October 2022. From him we heard an important story. In the 1950’s Mrs Indira Gandhi, not yet Prime minister, sent her two sons, to look at Sanawar for their admission, or they were actually admitted ( somebody please check this fact). But not for long. They complained to their mother that the flushes in the toilets did not work. Indira Gandhi promptly moved them to the Doon school in Dehradun.

Your reporter is happy to report that when he was at Sanawar for the big Founders last year, October 2022, he checked out the toilets everywhere. Mercifully, at last, they were acceptably clean. The flushes worked. There was soap and water. But somebody must investigate why it took some 50 years to sort this out! Yes, because 10 years ago, on a previous visit, there was still no soap in most of the toilets. Sort the damn thing out, right away, tomorrow!

A man with just such thinking was sitting right next to me. Max Mongia is the (non OS ) spouse of Anu Mongia mentioned above. Max is an engineer and at 80 plus years runs a successful medium sized aeronautical company. But in addition he is very active in the Lions Club organisation. One wonderful activity he was involved in was providing sewing machines to thousands of widows in India to help them become economically independent, as seamstresses. Max would have sorted out our toilets in a week.

Around this time, when these difficult thoughts about the shortcomings of Sanawar, and ourselves, were going through the mind, a welcome hand landed gently on your reporter’s shoulder : it was an old OS friend, Shalini Grover (VGD 1988 ). “Just checking on you! ” she said softly. Such friendliness! Such forwardness! From a lady 35 years my junior. Your reporter was touched.

I rose and we exchanged news as we headed towards the self-service counter for Indian street food. Shalini is an academic who has worked on women’s emancipation. She has moved a bit in her short life: India, Cambridge, India and now back as a Lecturer at the LSE. She lives with her two young boys and her Finnish husband in the Kent countryside. One wants to see her Indo-Finnish children!

On the way to food we met a regular to these lunches: very tall and very erect, turbaned and bearded Manmeet Singh. We had reported on his delightful posture ten years ago and so it was an easy opening line: “ Hello Manmeet! Still standing very erect I see!” We were both pleased to be able to agree on this point. Yes, Manmeet was still standing mighty erect, was still at Shell, a little more grey in the beard, and a lot more senior in Shell.

Weaving between these conversations, your reporter finally made it to the street food table. There were gol guppas, papadi, chaat and tikkis, all freshly prepared and served to you by a uniformed chef, in this sunny room in London. Your reporter forgot his calorie count and came back with large helpings of each item. Tasting them at table, they were all pretty good, but truth be told: they did not have the pataka taste, the punch, of real Indian street food. Of course not, but be grateful for this large mercy, said inner wisdom.

Still enjoying the starters, your reporter had another spontaneous visitor: a tall and elegant lady, in her fifties maybe, dressed in a dark, red and black Salwar Kameez, came up and said chirpily

“ Hello I am Kusum Sawhney! How are you Harbans ?”

Your reporter was surprised and a little embarrassed. I did not know the face, but the name was more than familiar. There had been an uncomfortable story. Last year, Kusum Sawhney (1971-77 VGD) published her first collection of poems, on the subject of Covid, while stranded in London. As your reporter is the chair of the Old Sanawarian Poetry Circle, she sent him a copy, and hoped that he might write a review to promote her first book of poetry. Of course I would I had said. I opened the book and reading the first poem on the first page, I was stunned, thunderstruck, so fine were the lines, so sharp the thoughts. I had to stop. After a few days I managed to read the second poem. Again, the words were so rich and laden that I had to stop. It took me a few weeks to read the poems, one short page at a time. I managed to read about half the slim book, of iterative poems, all on Covid. The language was so taut, the sentiments so hard hitting, that finally I had to put the book aside, admit defeat. I wrote to Kusum to apologise: I could not get on top of these chiselled words, I could not master the philosophy, I could not write an intelligent review.

Here is an example of one poem, for you to judge for yourself, and see if you fare better. It is the last poem in the collection , on Covid.

Epilogue
Words in the winds and news coming in
After endless days and longer nights
A sorrowful indictment of man's travesty and hubris
The leviathan's still raging - but something is brewing alight
A chance at redemption and conscience searing
Cautious ebullience and compelling ratiocinated finds
Can't put a sense on what's the reckoning
How do we live, what do we right?
Sense the appearance at the threshold
A melding of the natural world and human insight
On the anvil coming together,
A burgeoning hope, a beckoning light.

So, with some foreboding, I rose to face the author of such knockout words: pretty, beaming, generous. To my relief, no sign of rancour, no reproach at my failure to write that promised review, happily taking the conversation in other directions.

Rancour? Reproach? I realised slowly: she came as victor, to examine the prey she had slain!

Another poem came to mind, on the subject of poetry and writing, befitting this encounter.

Talent
This is the word tightrope. Now imagine a man,
inching across it in the space between our thoughts.
He holds our breath.
There is no word net.
You want him to fall, don’t you?
I guessed as much; he teeters but succeeds.
The word applause is written all over him.
By Carol Ann Duffy

**

Indeed, talent is self- aware, self- awarded, and in Kusum’s first poetry book, and her present victorious visit, we saw just such an example. We bow and join in in the applause to the tightrope walker.

With such heavy things happening to him, your reporter was a bit dazed. He slunk quietly to the tables with the main course, hoping for some solace in the lovely Indian food on offer.

Soon the good cheer of the afternoon returned. And so we met in mid hall Pankaj Munjal, (HBD 1981), a senior executive in the international company that makes Hero bikes in India, the bikes we all grew up on, the great workhorse of the Indian economy. It was surprising to learn that the company is international and employs 10,000 persons worldwide. Pankaj commutes between Delhi and London, an example of the close connection between our two economies.

Another encounter was with another regular to these meetings, Nazeer Datoobhoy (HBD 1991), representing the Ismaili minority from Bombay in our varied Sanawar community. Nazeer, a Chartered Accountant, came to the UK in 2000 so has been here a long time. Seven years ago, he started his own company in central London, specialising in small growth companies. As the boss, he is doing well and does not need to come into town every day. He lives in the stockbroker's belt just outside London with his two children and his smart, psychotherapist wife.

After the main course you reporter changed tables and sat between two couples on the long Middle and New Timers table. On the right was a man so stylish that you only expect to meet in the movies, and with him his equally elegant wife. These were Mr Harry Randhawa (1983 HBD) and Mrs Veera Randhawa, his non-OS spouse. Harry was striking because of his fashionable haircut, which consisted of the skull clean shaved but with a round central tuft of hair at the top. This was the first time your reporter was face to face with a real person with this modern hairstyle and was surprised to find that it did not interfere in our conversation. This was surely because the person behind the appearance was most engaging. In addition to the hairstyle Harry was dressed in a dark band gala, Indian style jacket. The band gala jacket reminded your reporter that in his time in the 1950 and 60 s, part of our kit included a black jodhpuri and white ducks, to be worn on certain ceremonial days, when there would be a special chicken biryani for dinner. Does that still continue? It was a lovely addition to our style of dress. On reflection, I don’t remember any such Indian uniforms for the girls. Was there a Salvar Kameez outfit? Then? Now? There should be! Much more elegant and practical than blue jeans.

But back to Harry Randhawa, in his jodhpuri, in this Raj style Indian restaurant in central London.

We learned that Harry was the son of the geography teacher in Sanawar. And so with the confidence acquired by being both close to parents plus a Sanawar education, Harry had built a successful Events company based in London and Portugal, employing a large number of people. He was still young and was surely going to go higher still in life, supported as he was by his elegant non-OS wife Veera, sitting beside him. Veera had her own success story. Arriving in England at the age of seven she married early, had three children and then decided to become a solicitor. So there she was, tall, in great shape, cheerful, a mother of three kids and a practicing lawyer.

On our left was another interesting couple: Suresh and Purneema Thakran (SGD 1983), in their early forties. The conversation was flowing freely, we were among friends and Purneema, elegant, tall, in a sheer white top, was opening up. She had numerous old family connections to Sanawar and so had gotten in easily. She attended the school but not for very long, before moving to the Air Force Central School in Palam, Delhi. “But you know I was quite popular at Sanawar! I was really quite popular”! After the innocent schoolgirl bravura, quickly came the afterthought: “Perhaps I shouldn’t be saying this about myself”. And across her face we saw passing a young girl’s joyful vanity and a grown woman’s good manners, both heartfelt and heartwarming.

Her frankness loosened us all up. Anu mongia, sitting next to us, chipped in: “And he was famous too!” pointing to your reporter, who , embarassed, quickly returned the compliment, truthfully, to Anu Mongia “And she was famous too! “ And so there we all were, in our little worlds, all famous! But then, isn’t this what these reunions are for? To remember our little glories: the match, the show, the sweetheart, the conquest, the prize …. the little victories of our childhood, in Birdwood, in Barnes hall, in the dormitory, on the track or field.

And so you wanted to say to Purneema: “Yes Madam, you were popular then and you are just as resplendent today. Please keep talking”.

And the lucky man who enjoys Purneema’s favours, Suresh, was beside her, quiet, letting his wife shine, as becomes a non-OS spouse at these gatherings. He had his own boarding school life in Dehradun and England, followed by successes in a printing business in London. But today was his wife’s day.

We thank him and through him all the non-OS spouses and friends who come to these OS gatherings, putting up with our introverted, self- centered, inward-looking behaviour. We realise how odd this must seem from outside: our vocabulary, our rituals, our place names. We ask your indulgence and we know your childhood was as rich as ours.

There was a third, smaller table of New Timers. Of the several people here present your reporter met and talked most with Gursehaj Bhattal (SBD 2015), a smart young man with a sharp beard and once again a half-shaved skull hairstyle. Gursehaj was enterprising. He was one of the first on Whatsapp to revive these lunches earlier in the year and had taken over leadership today in Shristi’s absence. All this spoke of great energy. We found out Guru was well travelled, starting life in America, with a short spell in Africa and then long years in Sanawar. Since passing out in 2015 Guru studied in various universities around the world, and has just finished his Masters in Marketing and Management from Nottingham. He was off to India again but promised to help us with the UK lunches in the future. We need people like him to keep the show going.

Another interesting person on this table was young Ms Shagufta Bhangu (NGD 2007). The name Shagufta was unusual and pleasing to the ear. We learned she was so named by her mother after a Pakistani poet. Clever mother! Her daughter would never be short of words and would always see the best side of our neighbours. Shagufta was a medical anthropologist, the kind of person who knows about the relationship between culture and health. What a great subject! A hundred questions came immediately to mind to ask of Shagufta. What will happen to society with this new found freedom for LGBT persons, including bringing up children? Is gender dysphoria new or has it always been there? Why is anorexia so common in the west but not so in the developing world? Deep subjects to explore with Shagufta when we meet again.

On the Youngster’s table were also Akshay Dalal (NBD 2008) and opposite him, his young and lovely wife Malika. We did not have a chance to talk at table then but we caught up later to hear their story. Akshay, also bearded but not shaven headed, was from Rohtak. After Sanawar he studied engineering in Delhi and was recruited by Deloittes USA, the accounting and advisory company. Deloittes recruited engineers like him for their logical thinking. Absolutely right. Engineers are what make the world go round. After a few years of experience in finance Akshay did an MBA from Oxford and returned to the world of finance. Via other big name companies, he end up in Amazon Web Services, the biggest name of all, where he is presently a very highly qualified specialist in banking regulation. We put off to the next time a conversation about how the UK financial system will integrate with the EU, post Brexit. Sitting opposite him was his lovely wife Malika, a high up officer in Artificial Intelligence at Google! Alas, your reporter did not get a chance to talk to her, but has put in for a tutorial with her on this hot topic. So lucky we are to have all this new talent in our Sanawar circles.

And there was yet more to come! In the person of Aman Jamwal (NBD 2011): Headboy, 5 years at Sanawar, PPE at Sussex, a Masters in Law, a Ph D in behavioural economics (think “animal spirits”, “fear and greed”, “nudge economics” ...). Tall, handsome, well-spoken, well-mannered, with the authority of a Headboy and, surprisingly, single. Such an eligible batchelor! We will surely hear of Aman in the not-too-distant future, as another one of the many Indians who run big, multinational corporations.

On this table were also Asheena Verma (GD 2011) and her non- OS husband Chaitanya Chauhan, both engineers. We heard Asheena also works at Deloittes. Another one! Alas, your reporter did not get a chance to talk to them, and one or two others: Raghav Mehra (VBD 2015) and Himanshu, a fellow psychiatrist and a Hindi scholar. We hope they will stay in touch and come again next year. I am particularly interested to talk to Doctor Himanshu: has all the medical vocabulary been translated from English to Hindi and other regional languages in India? We need to take our educational system up to university level in our several state languages, like all the other countries of the world. If little Denmark can do all its medicine and engineering and government in Danish, why can’t we, in all our local languages? English is an advantage to us economically at some levels, but also a great drawback.

And so soon it was time to end this delicious afternoon. People were starting to leave. And so, hurriedly, without the usual speeches by the Secretary, without news of Sanawar , without messages from the Headmaster, without the usual remembrance of the OS we had lost since our last meeting, we were rushed to gather for the school song at one end of the hall.

The song was sung in a slightly slow tempo, but sung it was. One or two persons filmed the scene and we will try to attach a link below.

And so ended our lunch of 2023. We had succeeded in reviving the tradition of these spring time lunches in London. There were many new people and many of us regulars. Covid is over. Life is getting back to normal. We are reconnecting and getting our compass bearings again. Our map of the world is coming back into focus, with a big pin over Sanawar, Simla Hills, Himachal Pradesh, India.

Our next lunch will be on the third Sunday of May 2024, namely 19 May 2024, at the same lovely restaurant. Do note. Do come.

**

Harbans Nagpal,
NBD 1956 - 64
65 rue Pascal, 75013 Paris.