Tag Archives: 1969 Batch

Rajat Mukarji [Ibbetson 1969 batch] passed on

We sadly announce the sudden passing-away of Old Cottonian Rajat Mukarji [Ibbetson 1969 batch], today who suffered a  massive cardiac attack.

An alumni of Bishop Cotton School (1967-69) and St. Stephen’s College, Rajat worked as a general manager at Birla AT&T from 1996 to 2002. He joined UK-based Vodafone (now Vodafone Idea) in 2002.
During his nearly 17-year stint at Vodafone Idea, Mukarji represented the telecom company at many national and international forums, and helped in several strategic initiatives.
Later, he also briefly served Chinese telecom gear maker ZTE as a corporate affairs officer from July 2019 to February 2020.
In 2020, he joined Broadband India Forum (BIF) as a director general at Gurgaon till date.

Rest in Peace dear OC.Our Deepest condolences to the bereaved family.

sad loss : Himmat Kahalon [Ibbetson 1969 batch]

Himmet passed on at Chandigarh 13th December 2022.

Our condolences to Himmet’s family, friends, loved ones, his dear batch mates of the class of 1969.

Cremation:

With profound grief and sorrow, we regret to inform you that our beloved Sardar Himmet Singh Kahlon passed away today 13th December 2022. Cremation will be held tomorrow 14 December ,12 pm at sector 25 Electric cremation ground Chandigarh. –

The Class of 1969 photo:

Back row: Dinesh Sud – Vivek Srivastava – Anil Gupta – Vijay Singh – Ravi Thomas – Thanasak Tipparcorn – Amar Rana – Gurrinder Khanna – Praveen Sachdeva – Ravi Pawa – Adnani – Sadhana. Middle row: Kanwaljit Singh – Ravi Pandit – Sunil Sood – Robin Nakai – Anil Bhasin – Ravi Charanji – Rajat Mukherji – RS Mehta – Himmat Kahalon. Sitting: Anil Sood – Taranjit Lehra – Paramjit Nat – Manjit Sembhey – RK von Goldstein – Sunil Singha – Blondie – Ajay Sawaheny – Sekhon.

1969 get-together in 2017 at Simla. This is how the 1969 batch looks like after a marathon 48 years .. (and tears …)!! Standing: Arun Bhalaik, Satish Singha, Dinesh M. Sud, Paramjit S. Nat, Himmat S.Khalon, Ravi Thomas, Rajat Mukerji, Jasbir S. Sadhana, Gurinder S. Khanna, Bikram S. Sirsa, Harsimran S. Sarron, Ajay Sawhney, Parveen Sachdeva, Anil Mahajan, Manjit Singh Sehmbey, Ravinder S. Mehta, Robin S. Nakai Sitting: DM Sister (Neena Sood), DM Wife (Meenakshi Sud), Ishita Kahlon, Mrs. Mukerji, Kitty Khanna, Mr. Nat, Sangeeta Sawhney, Sareena Sachdeva, Mrs. Sehmbey, Kamini Mehta.

RIP – Manjit Singh Sehmbey [Curzon 1962-1969]

Just received terrible news from Robin Nakai that Manjit Sehmbey [popularly known as TALLI. School Captain 1969.] collapsed at the gym, was rushed to hospital but could not be revived.

Rest in peace dear Talli.

This is all we know at this point in time.


From Robin Nakai:

Manjit Singh Sehmbey.
Curzon House Captain .
School Captain
Bishop Cotton School , Simla .
The Class of 1969 .

Go Gently Into The Night , dear friend ….
We shall miss you , and your absence  leaves a gap in our lives !
The friendship and camaraderie we shared from the school days in Bishop Cotton, will always be a part of the lives of the Class of 69 !
From the playing fields of BCS , Sanawar , YPS we were a part of a well knit team that soared to many glorious successes and honours .
The Class of 69 wishes you farewell .
Walk the golden fields of Elysium with the sun eternally in your face , with the classmates already gone .

Rest In Peace !

We woke this morning to the news of the passing away of our captain and friend, Manjit Singh. May the Almighty give all his family the strength to weather this storm and may his noble soul rest in eternal peace.

We , the class of 1969, will always remember Manjit, fondly called Talli, as our school captain. A great individual who left an indelible mark on everyone he came into contact with. Manjit was an accomplished sportsman who was always modest about his many achievements. A perfect all-rounder, he played cricket, football, and hockey, and was a core member of the athletics group. He was shoe-in for the Full School Blazer in Sports, he excelled in every area of the sports field. Hurdles, 100 & 200 yard sprints, he was a true Spartan! He was also the School Captain, and was responsible for maintaining discipline, order and harmony amongst all of us. More importantly, Manjit  was a caring individual who was always ready to help anyone in need . He will be sorely missed.

Many of us classmates were fortunate to spend a little more time with him recently in Shimla in 2017 and then again in 2019 [some photos below]. We were also able to share in his love for nature through his excellent photography through our WhatsApp group. It is very hard for us to accept that Manjit is no more. We pray that his soul rest in eternal peace.

– 1969 BCS BATCH

Family photos Kanwal Jit Singh – from Namrita Singh McGarity [his daughter]

Two of Kanwal Jit‘s elder brothers – Gurcharan Singh and Satinder Pal Singh – [also Cottonians] appear in the first photo below]. Photos clickable for larger view

Kanwaljit Singh [Rivaz 1969 Batch]

MESSAGE FROM HIS DAUGHTER [Namrita Singh McGarity]:

It is with a heavy heart that we inform you that our father, Kanwal Jit Singh, is no longer with us. Dad fought a long and courageous battle with Parkinson’s, and ultimately passed away at home, in his sleep, on Tuesday, January 13, 2021.
To the world Dad was a great friend, life of the party, ultimate prankster, travel and food enthusiast, Iphone fanatic, casino lover, and bona fide fashionista through and through. While he was all of that (and then some!) to us he was simply Dad…the man who taught us how to swim, shared his love for travel and adventure with us and taught us how to be independent and make something of our lives.
Though it has only been a day, the depth of this loss is already apparent. We will always love him and hold him in our hearts. As difficult as it feels at this moment, we are comforted by knowing that he is finally free of the walker, medications and all of the other constraints that held him back from living with the exuberance and passion with which he had always lived. Dad was larger than life. Only today did he finally transcend it once and for all.
Anyone who knew Dad knew how important family and friends were to him. There are no words to adequately thank each of you for the love and support you provided for Dad in his final years and that you continue to provide for us even as he is no longer with us. We would be lost without your support.

– Namrita Singh McGarity

Class of 1969 Reunion

The class of ’69s reunion story actually started two years earlier in 2017 when, sitting in my office one morning and looking at our class of ’69 VIth form group photograph, it struck me that out of a class of 29, 10 of our classmates had already gone to the happier hunting grounds….

Back row: Dinesh Sud – Vivek Srivastava – Anil Gupta – Vijay Singh – Ravi Thomas – Thanasak Tipparcorn – Amar Rana – Gurrinder Khanna – Praveen Sachdeva – Ravi Pawa – Adnani – Sadhana. Middle row: Kanwaljit Singh – Ravi Pandit – Sunil Sood – Robin Nakai – Anil Bhasin – Ravi Charanji – Rajat Mukherji – RS Mehta – Himmat Kahalon. Sitting: Anil Sood – Taranjit Lehra – Paramjit Nat – Manjit Sembhey – RK von Goldstein – Sunil Singha – Blondie – Ajay Sawaheny – Sekhon.

…Classmates with whom we’d spent our childhood growing up, studying (at times), playing, raiding plum and apple trees and then together maturing into our teens and then aging.  In the ensuing years, tied up with work and earning a living I realized that I personally had lost touch with most of the guys.  And so began the exercise of combing through the net which, one step at a time, like putting together a jigsaw puzzle, helped the class to re-establish contact.  Which led to me suggesting that we should all meet before our numbers diminished further.  And what better place to meet than our very own ‘Patina school’. 

Dinesh Sud, with Robin Nakai as has been and continues to be his wont sticking his finger in, worked his charm with the Heady who was most forthcoming.  That led to 15 of us making our way up to Simla and the school in early September of that year.  The 15 were joined by P.S.Nat’s Dad and younger brother, and Satish Singha representing Sunil.

1969 get-together in 2017 at Simla. This is how the 1969 batch looks like after a marathon 48 years .. (and tears …)!! Standing: Arun Bhalaik, Satish Singha, Dinesh M. Sud, Paramjit S. Nat, Himmat S.Khalon, Ravi Thomas, Rajat Mukerji, Jasbir S. Sadhana, Gurinder S. Khanna, Bikram S. Sirsa, Harsimran S. Sarron, Ajay Sawhney, Parveen Sachdeva, Anil Mahajan, Manjit Singh Sehmbey, Ravinder S. Mehta, Robin S. Nakai Sitting: DM Sister (Neena Sood), DM Wife (Meenakshi Sud), Ishita Kahlon, Mrs. Mukerji, Kitty Khanna, Mr. Nat, Sangeeta Sawhney, Sareena Sachdeva, Mrs. Sehmbey, Kamini Mehta.

2017 turned out to be almost like a dry run for our actual golden year reunion in September this year when 14 of us 65+ year olds, along with our respective spouses met up in Chandigarh from where we drove up to Manali for two days of partying courtesy Dinesh Sud.  DM went the extra mile pulling out all stops and hosting us at his resort – The AnantMaya.  Then on to Simla and Bishop Cotton School where the Headmaster, the school Staff, the Boys and Support Staff went out of the way to give us three days of sheer pleasure. 

There was a special Chapel Service which had most of us with a lump in the throat and holding back our tears, followed by a ‘cricket’ (in a manner of speaking) match between the staff and a bunch of lumbering and out of condition OCs making feeble attempts to run and bend down to retrieve the ball (a tennis ball I may add).  The cherry on the pie the next day was the tennis match between a ’69s pair and two school boys which, most surprisingly, was won by Jasbir Sadhana and Himmat Kahlon.  A lunch spread in the dining hall, the like of which I’d never seen in my 11 years at school, followed by 2 dinners over two evenings, one hosted by Mr Robinson in the HMs lodge and the other by the class of ’69 at Cecil, ensured that not only were we well fed, but were also nicely pickled.

   

I would be remiss if I did not add my personal two bits which left me mentally thanking my parents for seeing me through 11 years in BCS to end up as a ‘Cottonian’ in the true sense of the word.  That feeling for me was defined and reiterated by the very poignant chapel service, when sitting in the rear pew in the chapel, I watched the choir walking out singing the recessional hymn.  I for one am not ashamed to say that I had tears streaming down my face looking at young 10-16 year olds, wearing cassocks, holding up their hymn books with their heads held up proudly.  What hit me between the eyes was that about 20% of those kids also had on blue turbans.  To me, THAT one moment is what defines the ‘Cottonian’.  A young boy entering the portals of Bishop Cotton, maturing into becoming a good human being all the while developing a bond ‘as close as ivy grows’ and finally stepping out into the world totally unaffected by any ‘narrow domestic walls’ and far removed from bigotry of any sort.

Could one say it any better that what George Lynch Cotton left us with – “Overcome Evil With Good

⁃ Gurrinder [Indi] Khanna [on behalf of the Batch of 1969]

Upcoming events

IMPORTANT EVENTS

This community website links and brings together, globally, all Old Cottonians of Bishop Cotton School Simla. It is not specific to any one country or chapter of the OCA.

“Chicken on the Menu” and “Angle to Angling” – by Indi [Gurrinder] Khanna

Two articles by Gurrinder [Indi] Khanna – enjoy!

Chicken on the Menu

In 1975 at a young 22 almost straight out of University and a Masters in English, I found myself up on Panniar Estate (High Ranges) having been despatched there by the Malayalam Plantations Agents in Cochin. Born and with my entire formative years having been in Simla where the only agricultural produce was apples, planting as a career had never ever crossed my mind. Providence and a long story (for another day) of how I found myself down south. Having been sent for an extension interview to a rubber estate near Trishur (Mooply), the first Tea bush I ever really saw and touched was when I arrived at Panniar, never for a moment realising that this innocuous plant is what my entire life would revolve around so that 45 years later that love affair continues. And thankfully so!

The next morning, on my first day at work, my P.D. Mr Abid Khan who over the two years I worked under him became a father figure for me, told me that for the first three/four months I was not to be given a motorcycle and that I should walk the estate with the conductor, following which words I was duly ‘handed over’ to Mr Balia. A most imposing figure replete with a pith helmet and a swagger stick, Mr Balia (never just Balia) could WALK! And so over the next four months after a very crisp ‘good morning sah’ and a tipping of the pith helmet, we walked and we walked and we walked and then we walked some more covering as much of the 320 hectares as we could.

Panniar being a good one and a half hour drive from Munnar and the High Range Club I was totally dependent upon Abid and Shamim who very kindly, every time they headed that way, would take me along for the evening. On other days, end of day, Abid would come past the muster on his bike and ask me (this was an almost daily ritual) ‘what are you doing this evening?‘ Bereft of any kind of transport there was not much that I could do and so evening after evening, straight from the muster we’d head up to Abid’s bungalow where the three of us would play badminton till it got dark after which it was scrabble while listening to BBC plays on Abid’s transistor. Abid being a rather infrequent drinker, while a drink was offered to me every now and then, Shamim always made sure that I never went back to my bungalow hungry. We followed this lovely ‘habit’ for all of four months till, having worn away three pairs of ‘Bata Hunter shoes’ (all that was available back then) trudging along behind Mr Balia, I was finally made mobile with my Bullet.

About three months into this routine in the Club, two of my senior colleagues from Surianalle Estate (the other Malalayalm’s Estate in the High Ranges) casually asked me that in the absence of a bike, what was it that I did in the evenings. Sharing my routine with them, Raghu and Appu asked me when I was planning to reciprocate and have Abid and Shamim over for a meal. Which casual remark led to my getting down to buying a dinner set, curtsey the Company’s soft furnishing allowance and our Group Doctor who was heading down to Cochin for a weekend. Finally the proud owner of a spanking new Hitkari dinner set adorned with tiny pink flowers, when Abid came past my morning muster it was my turn to ask ‘Are you and Ma’am busy this evening?‘ and so my first grand dinner party.

Arranged for our local Kadai to get me a bottle of brandy from Munnar and had my cook / bearer / gardener / man Friday – Kaliappan buy a chicken from the labour lines. The menu for the grand dinner being Chicken curry, a vegetable, daal and rice – which incidentally was the extent of Kaliappan’s culinary skills. The arrangements having been made, I headed off for the ‘Mr Balia march’ of the day. Walking back from my evening muster, just below my bungalow, I kept hearing a strange repetitive sound of ‘baak, baak, bakka…..’ which appeared to be emanating from under the bushes. Peering down through the bush frames I saw my friend Kaliappan sitting on his haunches with a palm full of rice and intently ‘baaking‘. Having been unceremoniously hauled out from under the bushes he very sheepishly and with all 32 teeth being flashed at me, informed me that just as he was about to knock off its head, our pièce de résistance had managed to wiggle out of his clutches and had disappeared through the pantry back door.

To say that I was upset would be an understatement. With no money to buy another chicken and with it, in any case, being unlikely that Kaliappan would be able to muster up a replacement at that time late in the evening I had to resign myself to that first dinner being a simple and fairly inedible veggie affair. Crestfallen and having showered, waiting for Shamim and Abid, I was thumbing through my weekly supply of Newspapers (we received our ‘daily’ newspaper in one lot, once a week) when I felt a ‘presence’. Peering over the top of my newspaper I saw our winged dinner, likely drawn in by the bungalow light, very proudly strutting across the red oxide floor. In a stage whisper I called out to Kaliappan who, peeping out from the dining room and seeing the fellow, was out like a flash of lightening. He grabbed the hapless fellow by his neck. Should anyone have seen that film, in his deft movement and sheer speed Kaliappan was the embodiment of the Bushman in ‘The God’s Must be Crazy‘. The next thing I heard was a squawk and by the time Shammim, Abid and I had done with our chit-chat, the poor escapee was in my new Hitkari serving dish on the centre of the dining table swimming in a curry!


The Periya Dorai’s (Big Boss) Angle to Angling

After two years on Panniar with my father figure P.D. (Abid), I was transferred to one of the other Malayalam’s properties in the High Ranges – Surianalle Estate.  Despite us being directly on the other side of the valley from Panniar with a clear line of sight and just a couple of kilometres away as the crow flies, most times we never really ever got to see Surianalle.  The reason for that estate being almost always invisible most times is explained by its very name – Surian (the sun) Illay (not there!).  Which is exactly what it was – almost totally bereft of any sunshine.  Every morning one went down to the muster in thick mist which hung over us heavy as a blanket, all the way through to well past noon at which time, as if by magic, the mist would dissipate to allow the sun to stream in (when the sky was clear, that is).  Conditions which allowed all of us to get our daily fix of vitamin-D till about 1500 hours at which time we went back to being Surrian-alle!

I digress, so let me wander back to the tale which needs to be told.

[click for larger view]

My P.D. (the big boss) in Surianalle was a short (all of 5′ 4″) stocky and tough as nails Scot from Aberdeen.  Clyde Lawrence despite all his bluff and bluster (and he had oodles of that to toss around) was at heart a bit of a softy.   All in all a rather delightful teddy bear package.  After a couple of months of making me run around like a trained monkey and having established that maybe I was an ‘alright type’ one day while walking through the fields he casually asked me whether I had any interest in angling.  Me – angling!!  Having arrived in South India straight out of the dry hills of Simla followed by college and university in Chandigarh was like asking me whether I had ever visited the moon since in Punjab the only angling one had ever heard about was ‘marroing angle’ on anything in a skirt or a salwar-kameez.

Being told that I was a total blank on anything to do with fishing, Clyde asked whether I might be interested to get involved.  Having heard through the grapevine that the P.D. was an avid angler (he was known to have actually said that getting a fish at the end of one’s line was much more pleasurable than having an o******) wild horses would not have held me back from grabbing the opportunity to get further into Clyde’s good books.

Having established my interest, that evening I was invited to the P.D.s bungalow for a drink and was presented with a hand-me-down rod, a spinning reel, some line and a couple of swivels and spinners.  Having been explained the basics of how one was supposed to use the tackle I was told that every evening, post work, I should drop by at Clyde’s bungalow armed with the equipment.  And so began an almost three month training session of  converting ‘young Gurrinder’ into a well rounded planter by me learning how to cast a line, the way ‘it is done in Scotland’!  The Surianalle P.D. bungalow has a huge lawn on which, armed with my ‘new’ rod, duly threaded and with a spinner at the end of the line, I was told to stand at one end of this ‘cricket field’ while a small coin was placed at the other end.  And so began my training.  Day after day, week after week, I had to keep casting to try and hit the coin.  While the new angler-in-the-making toiled away, Clyde and Winne would sit in the verandah having their evening cuppa and scones and cakes and every now and then making appreciative ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ whenever my spinner spoon actually managed to land on target and we all heard a rather satisfying ‘ping’ from that end of lawn.

Three months later as a well trained angler, though one who had never been near any water with his rod, I was asked whether I might want to accompany Clyde and Appu to Gravel Banks on Rajamallai estate.  Appu, a couple of years senior to me, had obviously already been through the grind and was accepted by the boss as being a fisherman.

Come Sunday Appu and I hopped into Clyde’s Ambassador to be driven to Rajamallai at breakneck speed totally unmindful of potholes, bumps or anything else on the road.  Clyde’s Scotsman logic being that if one sped over impediments, one felt them less and that the cars suspension was less prone to wear and tear.  The fact that his car was more often in the estate workshop for replacement of the dozens of rubber bushes (a typical feature of the Ambassador) rather than with Clyde, did not deter him from changing his mind on how that poor vehicle needed to be driven.

Two hours later, duly shaken and stirred, we arrived at Gravel Banks, on the way having been tutored by Clyde to watch out for the leeches which, in size in and around Rajamallai, were reputed to be in close competition to the trout in the stream.  After we had assembled and threaded our respective rods, in good P.D. fashion Clyde told us that he was going to head upstream from the fishing hut and that Appu and I should head downstream.  The P.D. logic being that with him being upstream from us he would be casting for fish which had not yet been spooked.  And so downstream the two of us headed with huge leeches reaching out to us on both sides of the path and even dropping down our backs from the thick overhanging branches. The only way to avoid the leeches was to walk along in the water unmindful of the rocks and suddenly finding oneself waist deep in freezing water, all the while casting out at regular intervals and every once in a while pulling in the usual 12/13oz tiddlers which is the ‘Gravel Banks standard’.  So as not to disturb each other Appu walked along one bank of the stream, me on the other.

About two hours into the pleasurable exercise, I saw Appu’s rod curved at a rather acute angle which could only mean one of two things, that either he had snagged his hook on to some rock/bush/whatever (a regular feature in Gravel Banks) and was yanking to release the hook OR that he had a big one on the end of his line.  From where I was I could see that Appu had that fisherman’s look on his face when he knows he is on to a good thing.  As well he should have because following a bit of a struggle, out came a goodish 1½ pounder which by Gravel Banks standards could only be described as a whopper.  Almost as excited as he was, I waded through to his side of the bank to look jealously at the thrashing trout in his grip.  While both of us were admiring the prize Appu casually pulls the hook out of the fellows mouth and then, horror of horrors, puts the poor sod back in the stream.  It took me a minute to realize what he’d gone and done by which time the ‘catch’ was well on its way, probably counting its blessings!

When I found my voice to ask Appu the reason for this totally inexplicable behaviour, I was given a lesson in P.D. ‘management’ which stayed with me through my planting days both in the South as well as in Assam, that for a peaceful next working week one never went back home with a bigger fish than Clyde and never with a larger total catch and that, should one end up in that situation where nature has given you the larger bounty, just let it/them go!

By 1300 hrs when we met back at the fishing hut, asked by Clyde what we had in our respective bags and shown our rather meagre harvest and not a word about the ‘one that had got away’, the P.D. with a ear to ear grin opened his bag to reveal plenty more of the 12oz wonders than the two of us collectively had. 

It worked!  Like magic it did.  Monday to Saturday while the other two assistants on Surianalle were at the receiving end of Clyde’s ‘weeds in xxx field’ and ‘signs of bad plucking in others’, messers Appaya and Khanna were only educated further on what the two of us should have been doing to ensure a bigger catch!

Gurrinder [Indi] Khanna was at BCS from 1959-1969 in Rivaz, he now runs a very successful Tea business from Conoor and a link to his company is: Tea-n-Teas

Batch of 1969 get-together

An informal get-together of the Batch of 1969 at Chandigarh on Friday 26th and Saturday 27th October 2018, gearing up for their Golden Jubilee celebrations in 2019!

26 OCT: Left to right: Jasbir Sadana, Rajat Mukarji, DM Sud, Praveen Sachdeva, Harry Saron, Anil Advani [guest], Rakesh Sood.

27 Oct lunch. Left to right: Rajat Mukarji, Anil Advani [guest], DM Sud, Robin Nakai, Praveen Sachdeva, Jasbir Sadana.

27 OCT: Left to right. Praveen Sachdeva, Himmet Kahlon, PS Gill [invitee], DM Sud, Ravibir Grewal [guest, ex CGC President], Birender Gill [President of CGC], Neenu Chahal [from YPS, guest], Jasbir Sadana, Rajat Mukarji, Harry Saron, Anil Advani [invitee], Brig. HS Nagra [invitee].

 

Message from Peter Stringer

Opening my computer in far off Whyteleafe to see the happy group of the batch of 1969 reunite after 48 years with family in Simla, will brighten my day. It gives me pleasure far beyond words to know the Spirit of BCS lives on.

Our daylight hours have started to shorten & hope the monsoon leaves the surrounds of Patina green & pleasant before we realise summer is nearly over

Meanwhile at home – routine follows the retired course mellowing with age & counting our blessings.

The leaves have started to fall & my garden slowly begins to look bare ……  I often feel sad when I see the colourful leaves falling and I’ve been told to learn to love the gentle decline into autumn, ignore the scruffiness of falling leaves – breathe in the soft chill air and feel virtuous!!    Well we shall try and stay warm as I have heard it is going to be a cold hard winter.

We have keenly followed the TV coverage marking the milestone 70 years after Imperil India gave Pakistan & India Independence.

Incredible to reflect back as I was young & cocooned in BCS Simla at the time & had no idea of the real gravity of partition, never understanding WHY & many of our chums sent home across the border.  

It was a hopelessly planned political strategy causing unnecessary upheaval, bloodshed & such bitterness that will take a long, long time to forgive and mend.

Still life must go on as we pray for peace

Please post this reply with cordial fraternal wishes to the Batch of 69 and Old Cottonians around the world 

Cheers

Peter Stringer (Lefroy 1943-47)

BCS Ghuntee

BCS Batch of 1969 – looking good!

1969 –

48 years ago.

2017 –

BCS Batch of 1969 reunion 2017

Standing:
Arun Bhalaik, Satish Singha, Dinesh M. Sud, Paramjit S. Nat, Himmat S.Khalon, Ravi Thomas, Rajat Mukerji, Jasbir S. Sadhana, Gurinder S. Khanna, Bikram S. Sirsa, Harsimran S. Sarron, Ajay Sawhney, Parveen Sachdeva, Anil Mahajan, Manjit Singh Sehmbey, Ravinder S. Mehta, Robin S. Nakai
Sitting:
DM Sister (Neena Sood), DM Wife (Meenakshi Sud), Ishita Kahlon, Mrs. Mukerji, Kitty Khanna, Mr. Nat, Sangeeta Sawhney, Sareena Sachdeva, Mrs. Sehmbey, Kamini Mehta.

1969 Batch get together at Simla for a wonderful reunion 48 years after leaving the school gates. Three Cheers!

 

We lost yet another OC, Taranjit Singh Lehra

It is with heavy heart that this morning I write to you, about the sad and untimely demise of a class mate—69—TARANJIT SINGH LEHRA —
 
He died in Coimbatore last night in the hospital where he had gone for a kidney transplant– as he has been ailing for a while now–his end came with a heart attack in the hospital itself.
 
Take a moment and reflect on the guy you knew–silent –strong and a good friend and  bid him adieu in your own way–I have conveyed the feelings of the class to his family who are at the moment still in Coimbatore–trying to get the body onto a flight for Delhi.I shall go for the funeral to Patiala , and sadly bid him fare thee well.
 
Take moment here and think of the following:
 
SUNIL SINGHA–HOUSE CAPTIAN RIVAZ–69—-SUDDEN
Feel him running by you in the Marathon and winning the race—-
 
SUNIL SUD—PREFECT–RIVAZ–69—DONKEY
See him Boxing his way to the Heavy Weight Title—-
 
K.S.SEKHON–HOUSE CAPTIAN–LEFROY—69—MAKHI SINGH
Batting against the Sanawarians in his lazy style—-
 
AMAR RANA–RIVAZ–69
See him dribble past you on the Hockey field—
 
TARANJIT SINGH LEHRA—PREFECT —CURZON–69–PHAPPA–
Waiting for Amar Rana, as the full back with Phachanga Singh and Tali, hovering in the background—
 
JAI SINGH NAT—HOUSE CAPTAIN —IBBETSON—69
Beating every body at every thing form studies to games—-
 
These are friends who are no longer with us and I am sure way–way up in the Happy Hunting Grounds —while you are all thinking,
 
Goodbye our friends its time to die while all the birds are singing in the sky——————
 
I will be happy to convey your feelings to family and in case you want to pen a few words, I would be glad to print your message and give it to the family. His son is also a Cottonian.
 
Robin Nakai

Very sad news. Phapa Lehra was one of the nicest guys that I can remember from the class of 69. Met him all too briefly after school and was looking forward to seeing him again.

Nice euology Robin. What a shame that we have lost another one of the best of our classmates. Do you know when his bhog is and where in Patiala?
Himmet Kahlon

Very sorry to hear of another loss to the fraternity. I did not know him, as he was a little down the years, but reading of the tributes paid, he deserves our respectful good wishes for peace beyond. God bless his soul. My sincere condolences to his family members whose distress is not difficult to imagine. God bless you all too with the courage and fortitude to get along in life sans dear Taranjit.

Gurpratap Singh ( Sahi )
Ibbetson: 1953-56

Sad!
Wish I’d known he was in Coimbatore.  Would have gone and met him at least.
He was a good quiet guy.  God grant him rest and his family strength to bear the loss.

Here are a couple of snaps.  Give it a shot and try and figure out who is who.  The Linlithgow one from 1960 has Pappa in it.  I believe his number was 969 (am sure Robin will correct me on this).  That snap would, if I remember correctly, have the following from the batch of 69:
Pappa – 969
Padu – 983
Nat – 980
Yours truly – 993.
Lefroy House Sud
Bhalaik
Kahalon
Banon 2
DM
Donkey
Let’s ask the others if they recognise anyone else

I believe we [Pappa, Padu, Nat, Indi] were the only four who were abandoned by our respective families in 1959 and left in the capable hands of Mrs.Goss.  I personally have, ever since then, been eternally grateful to my parents for taking what must have been for them, a very tough decision (now that we all have kids of our own, we know that).
 
Indi
[click the images for a full view]
1960Linlitgow 1968 Vth Form 1969 VIth Form
Linlithgow 1960 ~ Vth Form 1968 ~ VIth Form 1969

Mehta also joined school in 1959 and his roll no was 970; Nat’s was 948 and Lehra’s was 969. Those of us who joined in Transition (1960) were also abandoned in Linlithgow as we were told by u 59 seniors that Lehra’s nickname is Phappa since he keeps calling for his papa!
HSK [Himmet Kahlon]

Here is another…
rakeshbcs
Rgds – Rakesh