In 1975, a little girl with red ribbons and a red sweater knitted by her mother stepped into Class IA of Ashok Hall, Tollygunge, holding new books from Everything Educational and wearing a crisp uniform from The Dress House. She had no idea she was walking into the first chapter of a lifelong journey—a space where friendships, values, and identity would take root and blossom

Ashok Hall was more than just a school. It was my haven, my playground, my crucible of growth. It was a complete ecosystem. Mrs Chakraborty, our Big Miss, watched over us like a benevolent umbrella, ensuring every child was nurtured.

Holistic education came effortlessly. From fireless cooking to drama, from sports to elocution, we tasted every flavour of growth. I will never forget the first prose on the first day from Radiant Reader – Late Kate. At the end ‘Kate was never late again’ – what a simple and beautiful lesson on time management at the very onset – a lesson that no one can do without. Our whole class would cry with Mrs Sanyal, our Bengali Miss as Durga would die in ‘Aam Anti’r bhepu’ – we learnt that life can be unfair. Our heart would bleed together for Ozymandias as he goes to oblivion, while Mrs Mukherjee, our beloved English teacher would gently push in the message that nothing is permanent.

Can still hear the tune of ‘Ore grihobashi ..’ Mrs Namita Dey, our music teacher had taught us. Can still see the craft book, which had an envelope affixed on the last page, containing different shapes made with colourful marble papers, which our craft teacher, George Miss, would make us cut carefully with scissors. Robin da was our PT Sir, who made us walk like a giraffe the entire playground – such a wonderful stretching exercise that I realise now. I wish he was still here to guide – to stretch my limits.

We blossomed happily and safely in our small homely abode, under the love of our teachers and care of ayah didis and the darwanjis.

Ashok Hall is the place where I grew—intellectually, emotionally, and socially. It laid the foundation for the person I am today. It represents the journey from potential to purpose.

Ashok Hall prepared me not just to excel, but to embrace life in all its complexities. I balance a dynamic career, a nurturing family, and vivid hobbies with joy. I trek. That resilience, that zest, that harmony—I owe it to Ashok Hall. Time moves on. But Ashok Hall remains etched within us—like the red ribbons, the old marble-paper crafts, or the last Mills & Boon book passed under the table. It’s part of our story. Part of who we are.

I owe my achievements, both professional and personal, if any, to my teachers, who I will name sequentially – Ms Ratna Singh (I), Ms Karlose (II), Susan Miss (III), Mrs K Rajeswari (IV), Mrs Spratt (IV), Mrs P Acharya (History), Ms Malviya (Drawing), Ms Gitali Aich (Dance), Robin Sir (PT), Mrs Bhojwani (V), Mrs U Shankaran (V), Mrs P Sen (English), Mrs Ratna Banerjee (Bengali), Mrs Bhatnagar (Hindi), Ms Meena Sharma (Hindi), Mrs Sanyal (Bengali), Mrs Pal (VI), Ms I Majumdar (VII), Mrs D Sen (VIII), Mrs Mukherjee (IX), Mrs Haldar (X), Mrs Rina Banerjee (X) and Big Miss (Mrs Chakraborty).

Let me sign-off with the prayer we signed off our day with at school, I can almost see Big Miss standing beside the palm tree on the right side of the playground, blessing us, as we chant :

‘Thank You God for the world so sweet, Thank You God for the food we eat, Thank You God for the birds that sing, Thank You God for everything!’