A most extraordinary thing has happened in the lives of around 30 women in their mid-50s, currently scattered around the world. Classmates of the same unprepossessing convent school in Bandra, who graduated in the early '70s, ("Class of '73" they call themselves) were recently connected on WhatsApp by an enterprising classmate. Most of these women had not set eyes, leave alone spoken to or followed up, on each other, for over 40 years.
As is common to such schools in India, fostered by well-meaning missionaries (this school's happened to originate from a small Irish Order), the classmates had been drawn from vastly different demographics. While the vast majority of an average class of 80 students (divided in to two divisions) was Catholic, many of them were also Parsis, Anglo Indians, Muslims, Hindus and Jews. But this was not the only reason to think the classmates varied.
Bandra lies not only in the heart of Christian Mumbai - the famous Basilica of Our Lady of the Mount, more commonly known as Mount Mary Church, lies a stone's throw away, permeating the air with a distinctly Christian flavor, besides many other Catholic establishments -it is also at the heart of Mumbai's film industry, with the legendary Mehboob Studios, the site of India's most memorable film shoots, nestled in its armpit.
Being one of the few ISC institutions in the area, one affiliated to the Cambridge Education Board, the school also attracted to its rolls the daughters of legendary and fabulously rich film families, girls whose dads were romantic heroes, famous lyricists or comedians, besides professionals, businessmen and executives.
From the gamut of arriving each morning, riding pillion on a cycle, to a seat on the rickety school bus, to showing up in a chauffeur driven Mercedes-Benz, between themselves, the classmates had done it all. Their understanding of diversity was as ingrained in their DNA as the scuffmarks on their knees from their days on the vast and dusty sports fields of their school.
So when the time had come to graduate, these sensible young women knew that they might never run into each other again. When they'd left, there had been little fanfare, no great attempt to keep in touch, not even a decent school-leaving photograph.
They'd all set their gaze to the future. College, marriage, kids, jobs. Some moved to Los Angeles, some to New York, some to Melbourne, some just to the other side of town. One went to settle in Israel and many remained in Bandra.
Then, about two months ago, someone connected them all on WhatsApp. It felt strange. Perhaps because they were unable to see each other or fathom the toll of the four interim decades, the women connected as if they'd only left school the previous day.
The same slang, the same pet names, the same ribaldry and down to earth homilies and shy support and high spirits and teasing laughter. They haven't stopped talking since.
And being part of this happy group, I have finally understood the success of the social media. It's not that it gets you to talk to one another. It's that by listening and sharing the conversations of others, it allows you to belong to a community.
Friendships grow out of one on one conversation. But Facebook, Twitter and WhatsApp allow us to listen in, and when we do so we become a community. And in that way we belong.
EM Forster's "only connect" has evolved to this era's "only belong". Now excuse me while I return to eavesdrop on a conversation that began 45 years ago!
Malavika Sangghvi is a Mumbai-based writer malavikasmumbai@gmail.com
As is common to such schools in India, fostered by well-meaning missionaries (this school's happened to originate from a small Irish Order), the classmates had been drawn from vastly different demographics. While the vast majority of an average class of 80 students (divided in to two divisions) was Catholic, many of them were also Parsis, Anglo Indians, Muslims, Hindus and Jews. But this was not the only reason to think the classmates varied.
Bandra lies not only in the heart of Christian Mumbai - the famous Basilica of Our Lady of the Mount, more commonly known as Mount Mary Church, lies a stone's throw away, permeating the air with a distinctly Christian flavor, besides many other Catholic establishments -it is also at the heart of Mumbai's film industry, with the legendary Mehboob Studios, the site of India's most memorable film shoots, nestled in its armpit.
Being one of the few ISC institutions in the area, one affiliated to the Cambridge Education Board, the school also attracted to its rolls the daughters of legendary and fabulously rich film families, girls whose dads were romantic heroes, famous lyricists or comedians, besides professionals, businessmen and executives.
From the gamut of arriving each morning, riding pillion on a cycle, to a seat on the rickety school bus, to showing up in a chauffeur driven Mercedes-Benz, between themselves, the classmates had done it all. Their understanding of diversity was as ingrained in their DNA as the scuffmarks on their knees from their days on the vast and dusty sports fields of their school.
So when the time had come to graduate, these sensible young women knew that they might never run into each other again. When they'd left, there had been little fanfare, no great attempt to keep in touch, not even a decent school-leaving photograph.
They'd all set their gaze to the future. College, marriage, kids, jobs. Some moved to Los Angeles, some to New York, some to Melbourne, some just to the other side of town. One went to settle in Israel and many remained in Bandra.
Then, about two months ago, someone connected them all on WhatsApp. It felt strange. Perhaps because they were unable to see each other or fathom the toll of the four interim decades, the women connected as if they'd only left school the previous day.
The same slang, the same pet names, the same ribaldry and down to earth homilies and shy support and high spirits and teasing laughter. They haven't stopped talking since.
And being part of this happy group, I have finally understood the success of the social media. It's not that it gets you to talk to one another. It's that by listening and sharing the conversations of others, it allows you to belong to a community.
Friendships grow out of one on one conversation. But Facebook, Twitter and WhatsApp allow us to listen in, and when we do so we become a community. And in that way we belong.
EM Forster's "only connect" has evolved to this era's "only belong". Now excuse me while I return to eavesdrop on a conversation that began 45 years ago!
Malavika Sangghvi is a Mumbai-based writer malavikasmumbai@gmail.com