I walked back into the Hyderabad Public School last Saturday thinking I was attending a reunion. Turns out, I was walking back into a chapter of my childhood that was patiently waiting for me, exactly where I’d left it 27 years ago. HPS had always been a big part of my life but I don’t think I fully understood how deep the connections ran until I walked through the campus again.
I spent 8 defining years of my childhood at the Hyderabad Public School. The sprawling 129 acre campus was an extraordinary place to grow up and what we learnt there went far beyond academics. The school encouraged curiosity in unexpected ways, offering hobby classes in everything from Carpentry to Book Binding, which I still suspect doubled up as a clever way to support the library.
One term, in SUPW class, after talking nonstop and achieving peak nuisance status, I was sent to sit with the girls as punishment. The “punishment” was ineffective. I got along great with the girls and became an even bigger nuisance, but also learnt how to perfectly hem a handkerchief – a skill I did not value then, but smile about now.
The Dining Hall, though, left a deeper imprint than I realised at the time. HPS’ Wednesday chicken curry, Friday vegetable cutlets and daily sambar are the stuff of legend. Those meals were comfort, routine and joy, and looking back, probably the earliest signs of my lifelong love affair with food.
Thoughtful, consistent and quietly excellent, HPS feeds 3500+ on a daily basis and is probably one of India’s finest examples of institutional catering. Today, as a chef I know how difficult this is to pull off.
The school was also a place where a creative mind could run free. And a place filled with life – creepy crawlies, friendly cats and dogs, and even a frickin’ baobab tree straight out of Madagascar.
Walking around campus, I was struck by how much of it still felt alive, not frozen in nostalgia, but gently continuing, growing and evolving. The routines, the spaces, the care that goes into feeding, teaching and holding young people every day. That kind of consistency doesn’t just happen; it’s the result of people turning up, day after day, and doing the work.
Looking back now, I realise how rare that is. A place that makes room for curiosity, mischief, craft, food, friendships and the occasional life skill you don’t appreciate until much later.
I came back expecting nostalgia, and left with old friendships reignited, new memories created, and a renewed respect for anyone who can feed thousands of kids, every day, without losing their damn mind.
What a way to round off the year! Thank you HPS! And thank you my dear friends who organized this. #HPSEagles #HPSBatchY2K