It’s
that time of the year when the Oscars are due in another 8 Weeks and it is but
natural for you to be misled by the title and think this is a blog on the red
carpet antics of celebrities who grace the biggest entertainment event. Well,
you are mistaken; this is all about a bunch of 17 years olds planning to
celebrate the end of their 12 years of rigorous intellectual pursuit. The ‘end’
I mean, not the achievement of the same.
The
whole concept of farewell parties in schools is taking a leaf out of the Prom
nights in the US; after all they need to be indebted to the people who gave
them the Instagram, Google and Snapchat. Guess, you guys must have got a clue
that this is a rant by a 17 year old’s father coming to terms with the build up
to a farewell party looming large in the horizon along with the Oscars.
These days I try very hard to avoid beginning a sentence with ‘When I was your age…..’ but unfortunately get drawn into that time and again. Well this was one of those times. I sat back and reminisced on my farewell parties. I had 2, one in my year 10 since the school at that time had classes only till year 10 and the other in Class 12.
I remember the Class 10 farewell quiet distinctly for the fact that we were the first batch to arrange for the video recording of the proceedings on a VHS tape. A disruption of sorts, some trendsetters, we were in those days. The irony is that after 3 decades I am still trying to trace that tape which none of us have seen. Apparently there was one copy and it had to stay put in the Head Master’s room. My class 12 graduation afternoon (no nights then) consisted of a piece of cake/Pastry (Colonial appeasement), a Vada (to bring in the local flavor) and a samosa (to please the public hailing from north of the vindhyas) followed by thirst quenchers on a hot Madras afternoon….a diluted glass of Rasna, from the colour of which, we could actually calculate the concentration of the drink. So this kind of acted as mock Chemistry practicals too.
These days I try very hard to avoid beginning a sentence with ‘When I was your age…..’ but unfortunately get drawn into that time and again. Well this was one of those times. I sat back and reminisced on my farewell parties. I had 2, one in my year 10 since the school at that time had classes only till year 10 and the other in Class 12.
I remember the Class 10 farewell quiet distinctly for the fact that we were the first batch to arrange for the video recording of the proceedings on a VHS tape. A disruption of sorts, some trendsetters, we were in those days. The irony is that after 3 decades I am still trying to trace that tape which none of us have seen. Apparently there was one copy and it had to stay put in the Head Master’s room. My class 12 graduation afternoon (no nights then) consisted of a piece of cake/Pastry (Colonial appeasement), a Vada (to bring in the local flavor) and a samosa (to please the public hailing from north of the vindhyas) followed by thirst quenchers on a hot Madras afternoon….a diluted glass of Rasna, from the colour of which, we could actually calculate the concentration of the drink. So this kind of acted as mock Chemistry practicals too.
Ah!!!
Enough of the boring 80’s, let’s move over to the more happening millennials
and their celebrations. If the first 4 paragraphs sounded like the script out of
a Satyajit Ray / Adoor Gopala Krishnan movie you ended up watching on Sunday
afternoons on Doordarshan the next few will sound more like a Rohit Shetty
film.
Haute Couture was a term that was normally heard in Milan but the last few days it is doing rounds within the four walls of my household. The farewell suddenly became the doomsday looking down upon us, being the proactive family we are we were equipped with the wear for the farewell the last time we visited India and we made a Tarun Tahiliani out of our poor Shankar, the neighborhood tailor. Alas! little did we know the colours or trends of last vacation were no longer ‘in’ and they were in the end of season list six months down the line. Move aside the Taruns and Sabyasachis, it’s the after party time, and we need the Donna Karens and the Pradas in the shades that are in now. And so the hunt continues.
Kids booked Limousines from the stables of top European brands to reach school on their day, forgetting that it was M/s Ashok Leyland that safely brought them to school all these 12 years. Well they all learn from a leader who loves to sell the make in India concept while secured in bullet proof German car!
The world has come a full circle, and this is definitely not a rant, but introspection on the evolution of the nature of celebrations. If we were trend setters arranging a VHS recording of our farewell 3 decades back, applying the same logic of inflation that is applied to finances, we need to apply an inflation factor on the aspirations and accept that these kids have not gone overboard with their celebrations.
As they celebrate like there is no tomorrow, I wish to remind them that the memories of a farewell are even sweeter when they ‘fare well’ in their lives ahead!
Haute Couture was a term that was normally heard in Milan but the last few days it is doing rounds within the four walls of my household. The farewell suddenly became the doomsday looking down upon us, being the proactive family we are we were equipped with the wear for the farewell the last time we visited India and we made a Tarun Tahiliani out of our poor Shankar, the neighborhood tailor. Alas! little did we know the colours or trends of last vacation were no longer ‘in’ and they were in the end of season list six months down the line. Move aside the Taruns and Sabyasachis, it’s the after party time, and we need the Donna Karens and the Pradas in the shades that are in now. And so the hunt continues.
Kids booked Limousines from the stables of top European brands to reach school on their day, forgetting that it was M/s Ashok Leyland that safely brought them to school all these 12 years. Well they all learn from a leader who loves to sell the make in India concept while secured in bullet proof German car!
The world has come a full circle, and this is definitely not a rant, but introspection on the evolution of the nature of celebrations. If we were trend setters arranging a VHS recording of our farewell 3 decades back, applying the same logic of inflation that is applied to finances, we need to apply an inflation factor on the aspirations and accept that these kids have not gone overboard with their celebrations.
As they celebrate like there is no tomorrow, I wish to remind them that the memories of a farewell are even sweeter when they ‘fare well’ in their lives ahead!
