I remember a lean, lanky chap, my classmate and indeed best buddy for several years at school. We started school together about when we would have been 3 or 4, growing up alongside. I think he left St. Kabir around 6th or 7th standard. He came across initially quiet in demeanour, a dark brooding kind, who would occasionally surprise with pranks, generally harmless. He was a good lad, extremely thin, and a very fast runner. At the first 100m sorts race heat in school games that we ran or I remember I had the two Gaurav's of the class flanking me and I was happy to finish second. He was third in behind me and strangely I remember noticing that he was not happy about it. The second heat that followed he beat me to it and he was happier. Strange it is that child hood memories as far as 25-30 years ago can stay so clear.
We became close friends in a few years time, when by one, we were allocated to share the same desk by the class teacher (must have been standard 4 or 5) and cycled back from school roughly the same route. I remember his converted cycle well. To start with it was a modern atlas unisex (!) bike of that time, you don't see them around much. It was obviously a tad too feminine for his liking and the changes that followed included an inverted handle bar, covered with black tape and bits and bobs that gave the cycle a bit of a dark brooding character as well. The man and his machine! As was his run, so was his pace with the cycle. I think I was clever enough not to try compete there.
In standard 5 or whereabouts there was a science exhibition in the school open to students to create and invent. Our combined inventiveness was to build a model helicopter, with a fan that worked. He built most of the fuselage, cardboard bits cut and bended to roughly get an approximation of a modern sea king frame with an all round glass canopy (cellophane). The power plant was a Rs.60 DC motor from the audio shop, a Rs.5 plastic ruler based fan blade and the fan spindle a used ball pen refill, some wire bits and a 2 way switch! Wheels sourced from old cars in mine or his kindergarten garage.
The chopper whirred to life at the exhibition and was well enjoyed. It did not fly but it made an impression, or so we thought. To the extent we were enthused enough to expand are aviation interests to the next level - a rocket. The project did not quite take off the ground, literally. We knew it would not but as life reveals time and again, the endeavour is often more fun than the outcome. So what we had was an old milk metal bottle (his younger brother's), a vegetable oil can cap, a pressure cooker nozzle and a kerosene stove's burner. The general idea was to 1) fill the bottle half or so with water 2) cap on the bottle with the nozzle drilled through. Placed upside down with the burner assembly shackled on, the idea was that the burner would boil the water, the steam would pressure through the nozzle and the whole contraption would nudge upwards. Obviously it was a shambles and 'wind tunnel' runs showed that the steam pressure would build, but instead of escaping through the nozzle would dislodge the cap as a whole. The whole rocket had a big leak. At which point I think we gave up and was the last project in our nascent Aviation career.
Years went on, school, studies, homework, mini adventures cycling around the town and cricket. Chandigarh was much more cycle friendly in the 80s and the 90s and we made the most of it stretching our machines to the hilt. Sharing comics and lunching at each others place.
The fork came at the point when he left St. Kabir and we rarely met after that. Busy with our respective senior school years, board exams and then universities. I kept hearing about him from my sister's classmate who was his cousin as well, and then met him only once several years later briefly. I would hear about him time and again, that he had taken up hotel management, moved to Australia and was doing well.
I learnt earlier this year that Gaurav Sidhana, my classmate and best buddy of my growing years had passed away leaving behind his wife and daughter. I was deeply saddened, a very untimely loss.
Life is ephemeral but the shared past is fortunately always alive in some sense. Gaurav was a special friend and my memories of our growing years spent together will always remain. Rest in peace mate, you will be missed.
We became close friends in a few years time, when by one, we were allocated to share the same desk by the class teacher (must have been standard 4 or 5) and cycled back from school roughly the same route. I remember his converted cycle well. To start with it was a modern atlas unisex (!) bike of that time, you don't see them around much. It was obviously a tad too feminine for his liking and the changes that followed included an inverted handle bar, covered with black tape and bits and bobs that gave the cycle a bit of a dark brooding character as well. The man and his machine! As was his run, so was his pace with the cycle. I think I was clever enough not to try compete there.
In standard 5 or whereabouts there was a science exhibition in the school open to students to create and invent. Our combined inventiveness was to build a model helicopter, with a fan that worked. He built most of the fuselage, cardboard bits cut and bended to roughly get an approximation of a modern sea king frame with an all round glass canopy (cellophane). The power plant was a Rs.60 DC motor from the audio shop, a Rs.5 plastic ruler based fan blade and the fan spindle a used ball pen refill, some wire bits and a 2 way switch! Wheels sourced from old cars in mine or his kindergarten garage.
The chopper whirred to life at the exhibition and was well enjoyed. It did not fly but it made an impression, or so we thought. To the extent we were enthused enough to expand are aviation interests to the next level - a rocket. The project did not quite take off the ground, literally. We knew it would not but as life reveals time and again, the endeavour is often more fun than the outcome. So what we had was an old milk metal bottle (his younger brother's), a vegetable oil can cap, a pressure cooker nozzle and a kerosene stove's burner. The general idea was to 1) fill the bottle half or so with water 2) cap on the bottle with the nozzle drilled through. Placed upside down with the burner assembly shackled on, the idea was that the burner would boil the water, the steam would pressure through the nozzle and the whole contraption would nudge upwards. Obviously it was a shambles and 'wind tunnel' runs showed that the steam pressure would build, but instead of escaping through the nozzle would dislodge the cap as a whole. The whole rocket had a big leak. At which point I think we gave up and was the last project in our nascent Aviation career.
Years went on, school, studies, homework, mini adventures cycling around the town and cricket. Chandigarh was much more cycle friendly in the 80s and the 90s and we made the most of it stretching our machines to the hilt. Sharing comics and lunching at each others place.
The fork came at the point when he left St. Kabir and we rarely met after that. Busy with our respective senior school years, board exams and then universities. I kept hearing about him from my sister's classmate who was his cousin as well, and then met him only once several years later briefly. I would hear about him time and again, that he had taken up hotel management, moved to Australia and was doing well.
I learnt earlier this year that Gaurav Sidhana, my classmate and best buddy of my growing years had passed away leaving behind his wife and daughter. I was deeply saddened, a very untimely loss.
Life is ephemeral but the shared past is fortunately always alive in some sense. Gaurav was a special friend and my memories of our growing years spent together will always remain. Rest in peace mate, you will be missed.
