I didn’t get any photos or footage of the banquet – it was too damned dark. After a 40-minute bus ride down to Mussoorie’s fanciest hotel, JP (actually in Barlowganj), we shivered in long queues for food, then sat at tables where we could barely see what we were eating (though it was pretty tasty). Drinks were also difficult to come by, and expensive – and by this time we had all been spoiled by the free booze that Sanjay had supplied in such quantities.
The evening’s program included a skit by the Centennial Class of ’54, which was doubtless amusing if you had graduated between ’49 and ’59 and therefore had some clue what they were joking about. Sveral members of the class of ’81 have made a solemn vow that we will never subject the rest of the school to a skit. We may someday recant, though – it’s a prerogative of age to bore the young, I believe.
At any rate, the class of ’81 gracelessly fled back to Hanifl to hang out and talk, or to a party at Tenzing’s house. There was some to-and-fro between the two venues, as new people kept popping up and coming to greet old classmates, including some who had been sound asleep.
