The Last three years of my schooling was in a residential school,where discipline was given highest priority. The total strength of the entire school was around 170 at that time,and each class had no more than 25 students.The school located in the wooded area of nearly 100 Acres in Mysore,was run by Ram-Krishna mission. Not Many schools in the known world could boast,at that period in time,of half a dozen playing fields,a large swimming pool, a diary farm,a vegetable garden and a modern bakery.The entire campus was quite self contained and self sufficient,so much so that the residents could have easily survived any siege or term-oil in the outside world.
Every activity in the school was compulsory for every student,and there was no two ways about it . Great emphasis was given to outdoor activities.and a student was expected to play all games offered during the course of academic year.Besides one had to learn Swimming,Cycling,beekeeping,gardening,speed typing and so on .It was mandatory to rise at 5 O' clock in the morning!Well,that was my pet hate and one of the few practices I have been unable to maintain after leaving school.I guess one is either an owl or a Lark.I am a confirmed night-bird. The school maintained a fully merchandised modern kitchen.After the vigorous physical and other extra curricular activities,we used to be ravenously hungry.However one of the classmates used to be particularly hungry all the time.He was very fond of food,and always looked forward for the next meal.With a tendency to be rotund,and an abhorrence of all physical activities he used to tell me his philosophy in life was:Why run when you could walk?Why stand when you could sit?and why sit when you could stretch over Comfortably?He made friends with the cooks in the mess just to obtain advance knowledge of the menu for the day . Nothing his affinity for food,Our headmaster nick named him 7,11,4,8.The numbers denoted the timings of various meals.That is,Breakfast at 7 a.m,Lunch at 11 a.m,Tea at 4 p.m and Dinner at 8 p.m.Eventually the boy came to be better known by his nickname (or rather nick number) than his real name.He too responded more readily to his Nam DE Guerra '7,11,4,8' than to his christened name.
During games hours in the evening,when it was compulsory to play my friend '7,11,4,8'
used to readily volunteer to be the goal keeper--A position that no body else wanted.Being a voracious reader, he carried a novel which he read whenever the ball was away from his goal post. Quite often,he would leave the field in some pretext or the other to surreptitiously visit in house bakery where he was the only student to have succeeded in making friends with the cranky old baker.He would muggle freshly baked cookies,biscuits and sometimes even a few slices of oven-fresh bread.He would savor the goodies while altering between reading and guarding the goal,occasionally passing on a few to me.It was a closely guarded secret between us,and there was none in the campus who knew the smuggling that was going on in the otherwise disciplinary set up.
By the time we were in the final year in school,'7,11,4,8'had already made up his mind about his future career.His ambition was to be an F&B manager in a five star hotel.He would make us all drool fantasizing about the fabulous gourmet food he would be involved in preparing and tasting. He had decided on joining a college of catering to perfect his skills in the culinary field. During Vacations his favorite pass time was to help his mother in the kitchen,and he had already acquired substantial knowledge of what he referred to as --'The fine art of gastronomy.'
After School We all scattered in different directions and lost touch with one another. However,it was befitting that i had an encounter of the'Culinary kind' nearly three decades later with my long lost friend'7,11,4,8'.
My wife and I were having lunch at a newly opened up market restaurant in Bangalore.A heavyset man sitting at the next table had the restaurant staff waiting on him with great reverence. He was totally preoccupied with the food on his plate and appeared to be passing judgement on various dishes placed before him.His face looked very familiar.Finally, our eyes met and we recognized each other simultaneously.
I spontaneously greeted him Hi!"7,11,4,8",How nice to see you.'It has been ages.'He sauntered over to our table expressing his delight in seeing me after so many years.I introduced him to my wife:'Meet an old friend and classmate of mine from school days:7,11,-- I couldn't remember my friends real name!As I was struggling to come up with his name,my friend bailed me out by introducing himself. He joined our table and service improved my a large measure.He cancelled our order and replaced it with a chef's special.We all had a hearty laugh after i explained to my bewildered wife the story behind the unique pseudonym.'7,11,4,8'.
Over a delightful dinner, my friend narrated to us with great pride that after becoming the youngest F&B Manager in a Five star hotel,he was now a connoisseur of gourmet food.He gave his expert opinion on the cuisine served in various restaurants in leading newspapers,Periodicals and Channels across the country,as well as acting as a food consultant to a number of hotels in all the major metros.'Right Man for the Right Job',I Complimented him.
