Post Box

Dear Valley,

It is with much excitement and affection that we celebrate your birthday each year! Even as we wish you “Happy Birthday Valley”, one wonders who exactly are we offering these greetings to! Who is this entity that we call ‘Valley’ that we consider magnificently beautiful?

The image that instantly comes to mind in response to this question is the beauty that we behold of your verdant stretch of wilderness… Reddish brown path that goes around you, the majestic trees, the carpet of flowers, gurgling streams, the placid lake, the sprawling amphitheater, the aesthetic spaces and structures, the call of the birds, flitting butterflies, millipedes and hordes of insects, sleek reptiles, and so on… Is it to this that we offer our reverence and greetings? There is also the emotion, the sensation that one experiences while watching all these in you, walking or sitting alone or with a friend…

It has rained much last evening… This morning, the sun rose in a partly clear sky, and light sparkled on the dew drops settled on the leaf tips and margins of the bamboo. Young leaves on the honge tree seemed to dance rhythmically with joy in the breeze. The Asian koel was persistently meting out her sonata in a shrill and mellifluous tone. The croaking of a hundred frogs from the lakeside in a frenzy to celebrate last night’s downpour was audible across The Valley! One was intensely aware of the tremendous vitality and wonder of nature you manifest. There was delight within and the brain stopped working for a while.

Is it to this ‘feeling’ that one identifies with as your beauty, and greets with gratitude?

There seems to be one kind of beauty that one sees in things – a beautiful house with the lines, the space, the light, and shade that bathes it; a beautiful garden that is well kept and manicured, with resplendent flowers; a beautiful song, a skillful and precise action.

All these create a ‘sense’ within while watching… All these are tangible, perceptible objects or actions…but what about a sense of beauty that exists in the state of listening? Or the sense of beauty in direct observation? There seems to be a sense of beauty that seems difficult to understand, and yet it is there…it is real. Dear Valley, have you not invoked this in all of us?

Our sense of beauty in things are understandable and tangible...but there seems to be the other sense of beauty that has nothing to do with manifestations or expressions. It seems to arise out of a sense of deep harmony within. It is probably at the root of creation...and isn’t creation itself beauty? When one lives wholly, one brings both these senses into operation… Maybe this is what you have gently, subtly infused in us. And it is to that ‘Valley’ that we express our dear greetings.

Thank you, dear Valley, and Happy Birthday!

Jayaram

My beloved Valley,

Happy Birthday to you! You are only becoming more and more beautiful as time goes by. I don’t know of anyone who has not fallen in love with you when they first met you. I still remember the day when I saw you for the first time and fell so badly in love with you. I must say that this love I feel for you is beautiful and yet has been difficult at times. I am from a society that does not allow us to appreciate having fellow lovers. This is something I am still learning and struggling with. Strangely, all your lovers come together to celebrate your birthday and work together to create a meaningful atmosphere for the children who come to play in your wilderness. I feel this is possible because the intensity of my love is deeper than the insecurity I sometimes have with your other lovers.

All of us have our own versions of what is best for you. And we want to see that happen! I feel in doing so, we somehow forget your intelligence, wisdom and your own awareness of what is best for you. I am sorry. You are more than four decades old now and I need to start trusting and honouring your wisdom and vision for yourself and all of us. I wonder how you so gracefully listen to so many opinions about what is good for you?

This will not stop us lovers from quarrelling but we will probably do so with a greater sense of love and respect for each other—because we know now that it is you who will decide at the end of the day. I can imagine you quietly smiling at the sight of all of us debating on what you should be doing.

I feel the world right now needs more Valleys! On this birthday of yours I would like to make a wish for that to happen. We need multiple Valleys around the world to show that lovers can have differences and yet get together to create a beautiful atmosphere and celebrate their love.

Thanks for having me in your presence.

Your lover forever,

Skanda

Dear Valley,

I have thought of you very often - in rain, song, silence, and prayer. I have longed for the wide open arms of ancient trees to cope with the collective loss that has befallen us. On many days, standing in my balcony, I closed my eyes to escape this large, lost city - to go back to walks in the forest under watercolour skies; evenings ushered in by the breeze; listening to the gentle whispers of Gulmohar trees; farewell notes of birds…but it's all a fleeting memory.

Time is an inadequate measure of intimacy. The short span in Valley was a capacious cauldron that overflowed with treasures - relationships, tunes, trails - that have kept me going, and remain a huge source of strength even now. You held and healed me at a time when I perhaps needed it the most, and I'm eternally grateful to you for opening my heart and mind to a very different rhythm. I arrived at your door as a young research student, was nurtured as a teacher, and left as a lifelong learner, yearning to come back to you again and again.

On your birthday, there is not one memory, but many - condensed into the mundane but enchanting mosaic of everyday life - that I call upon to celebrate. A day in the life at Valley is like an old Dev Anand song, made up of the perfect amounts of conviviality, joy, perspective, reflection, rootedness, and philosophy.

Here's wishing you a very happy birthday with a composition dear to me that speaks of a reunion (वस्ल) that has been long overdue.

Love,

Abismrita

Dearest Valleyites,

I hope you are all doing well and are safe in these trying times.

Last year was the first time since I joined school that I wasn’t able to touch trees or kick a ball at the Valley on the 17^th of July. Every single year, I come back to recharge and reset my life. It’s my oxygen. My place of clarity. The familiar sounds, smell, smiles, faces and feelings unclog my thoughts and set me free like magic.

My first year out of school was a big struggle. I was from the last batch of the 13^th standard. It was like I was trying to stretch every moment that I could to savour the warmth and the safety of the womb before being pushed out into unfamiliar territory. When I had to go to Chennai and study in a college far removed from the teachings of our school and from home, I was in for a culture shock. However, coming back to school the following birthday, sorted me out and my turmoil eased immediately and I could breathe again. Since then every passing year a dose of the Valley keeps me going strong, not that I need the physical space to set me free, but it does help immensely.

So many faces have changed over the years. The Valley looks more beautiful and lush every time I visit. New friendships. Little fresh streams that have branched away from the familiar ones. Stories of panther sightings. The Kaleidoscope of colors that light up the school on the 17^th. The invariable smell of the rain and one of favourite rituals of the Valley; the football match.

The Bengali songs that filter through the trees as we plant new seeds. The warm hugs from old friends and new. The little feet running around with abandon, oblivious to thoughts of the past or the future. Just giggles of pure joy of living in the moment. I remember when I ran around the same sandpit and swung on the jungle gym. I remember what I felt then.

School taught me a lot, but what I also appreciated is what they didn’t teach. They didn’t teach me to mug for exams and compare my marks to others. They didn’t teach me toxic masculinity. They didn’t teach me that our staff was not part of our Valley family. They didn’t teach me to stop being a child. They didn’t tell me that sports and arts are not viable career options.

They helped me find my own space in the world. We learnt gender equality without realizing that we were. I never once heard the word ‘caste’ in all my years there. I learnt the freedom of making my own choices (one of the most important lessons in my life). The word 'failure' never had any effect on me and hence I never failed at anything in my life. It was always a continuous process of learning. The lake, the streams, the dragonflies and the leaves taught me as much as anyone else in school did and continue to do so.

I see my friends’ kids go to school now and enjoy all that we did and more. It’s such a great joy that we have what we have and I hope many more adopt the gist of the education that the Valley has explored over the years. I never ever thought the Valley was perfect but that’s what made it so beautiful, that nothing needs to be perfect as defined by anybody. School taught me to explore without results and I wish more schools would try that out.

I’m still in touch with around 20 batches students, alumni, ex-teachers and present.

I’ll always be grateful for how we have been welcomed every year with open arms. Always made me feel like a part of the family. That this is my home. I miss all of you more than you’ll ever know but we will hopefully meet again soon. While I can’t come there physically this year, I will always carry a part of the Valley with me wherever I go.

Happy b’day to the place that gave birth to all that I am.

With lots of love and a great big hug,

Sunder (batch of 89)

P.S. To the current students: don’t get complacent. The ex-students will be there in full force next year so you better use the time to sharpen your football skills. Must be no fun getting beaten by the oldies every year :P

My dear Valley,

Happy Birthday! How have you been? It's been a turbulent 16 months and a roller coaster of emotions for many, hasn't it? This will be the second birthday in a row where we haven't quite been able to celebrate your special day the way we used to - with pomp and gaiety. I'm curious - do you miss all the fanfare, or do you like it low-key? Do you miss us? Do you miss the children?

I don't know how you feel about everything that has happened over the last year and a half, but we have missed you terribly. We have longed for the many sights and sounds that we have grown so used to over the past ten years.

I miss the sounds of the Art Village - the soulful strains of Hindustani music wafting from the music room and the clacking of the loom from weaver mama's room. We've missed hearing the innocence-filled giggles of the Mynas, Koels, and Bulbuls, and the boisterous laughter of junior schoolers monkeying around the jungle gym with their boundless energy. I particularly miss the warm welcome of the Art Village banyan tree, much like an old matriarch, with arms and branches extended out as if to give a giant hug.

I reminisce about your many birthday celebrations and other cultural get-togethers often. Memories of little girls decked in bright ghagra cholis, flowers wrapped around neatly done plaits, and eyes lined with kajal, teachers dressed up in earthy handloom saris, and young boys looking sharp in smart kurtas, flood back. Oh, what a riot of colors it used to be!

Most of all, I've missed the gentle silence of The Valley - the stillness of the guppy pond, the soft rustling of leaves, and the quiet energy of the Art Village.

But there are things about The Valley that I don't miss. For instance, I don't miss our teachers. Don't get me wrong; I love our teachers. I feel they are the heart and soul of our school. In fact, over the years, I've become good friends with a few. But I meet them, through my children, every school day. Agreed, it is through a screen, but they are at my home, our dining table, the kid's bedroom, bringing a bit of The Valley with them.

I hear them when Devi squeals with delight as her class figures out a math concept and when Varsha comments on a student's artwork, her voice filled with excitement and pride. I feel them when Prashant leaves the most thoughtful comments on my daughter's assignments, when Chitkala conducts her sessions with a bucketload of enthusiasm, and when Rajshri pours her love for her subject into every single class. I pick up bits and pieces of the conversations that Deepti and Smriti have with their class and watch them navigate gently and sensitively through the thoughts and emotions of 39 tenth graders.

This is true for every one of our teachers who come to class, eager to provide their children with the best possible Valley experience, despite the limitations of the online medium. I believe it is the presence of our teachers on that screen that has softened the feeling of loss of not being in The Valley.

Looking ahead, I'm filled with hope. I hope that one day soon, we will all be together, in your folds. You've always welcomed every child and adult with an open heart. When we do come back, I know we'll return the sentiment and run to you with open arms and a deeper appreciation of everything you mean to us.

Fondly,

Gayathri

PS - How splendid that both of us turned 43 this year! I must say we are aging quite gracefully! :)

Dear Valley,

While I have never written a letter to you, I have had conversations with you on several occasions. When I have watched your birds in admiration, it’s you I have observed in flight. When I have watched the still waters of the lake or the gushing mud brown water of the Bund, I have witnessed your serenity and raw power. Witnessing the spectacle of a hundred fireflies under the banyan tree on a moonless night, I have rejoiced in your magic. Even the lashing thunderstorms that bring down trees have been a language of yours. You are shrouded in mystery and will take a lifetime to explore, and yet leave the explorer wanting more.

Dear Valley, you are blissfully bountiful and breathtakingly beautiful. All those who live and love The Valley are ever grateful for this. The children take delight in watching your winged incarnations and collecting their feathers like treasures; some chase butterflies playfully and yet other relishing the sunset-orange passion fruits, tam-lollies and sucking on bay leaves; some swing from your branches admiring your blazing gulmohars on a hot summer afternoon; adults become silent artists sitting under a tree painting the morning sunlight falling on the golden copper pods. Your mischievous streak comes through when you send children and teachers running helter-skelter for their respective buses, and on most days–just when everyone has summited their mountains, both the school gate and the flood gates of the heaven open for a splendid downpour.

The monkeys chattering from tree tops, the wild boars ploughing the brown earth black, children running bare feet on your cool earth, the gulmohars and amaltash blazing the treetops saffron and yellow, the silent eyes drinking in your serene sunset are all you in your many incarnations. It’s you in the decaying seed pod, the infant bud, the magnificence of the mighty panther, the scorching noon sun, the gleaming dancing ripples on the lake, and the sweat on the brow of a cross-valley runner. You are a healer, a storyteller, a musician, a painter; you are history, mystery, a home, an emotion; you are nostalgia and a source of divine silence. Within you resides the heartbeats of beings galore. Every child and adult who comes in touch with you takes a big part of you and leaves behind a bigger part of them.

On this 43^rd birthday, I wish you on behalf of all those who reveled in your love, riveted in your beauty, and healed in your sacredness.

Ananda

Dear Valley,

The gates await the heels,

The dogs await the caress,

The plants await the dress.

The trees miss the chatter,

The classrooms miss the murmur,

The dining hall misses the clatter.

We discover a child in us on Sports Day,

We see the pride of teachers on Open Day,

We celebrate with the Valley family on Mela Day.

Computers are the new classroom,

Google is the new class,

Zoom is where we greet,

It's virtually, we all meet.

Await the day we meet ‘n greet,

Await the day we show ‘n tell,

Await the day we meet in flesh ‘n blood.

We will sail this difficult time,

With the spirit of The Valley in chime.

Happy Birthday Valley

Harshada & Ramjee

Dear Valley,

We can’t say what we expected to find when you first invited us for the interview, but what we saw was certainly not what we expected. Can childhood be so happy in a school? Growing up in an education system where school means discipline, uniform, long hours of sitting, and (sorry to say, but) boredom—here we were at a place where kids were roaming happily with a measuring tape trying to measure the vast nature with their small hands. Isn’t that what childhood is all about? Measuring the limitless capabilities with their unbounded imagination. It is something that's missing in the current education system.

We heartily thank you for giving the kids the freedom to imagine, the time to grow as per their innate nature, to allow them to express their tender feelings. We thank all the teachers for protecting their childhood with sincerity and love. We miss your open space, greenery, and of course, delicious food but most of all, we miss our child’s interaction with your amazing abode.

Sincerely yours,

Deepika and Kshitiz Shrivastav

My dear Valley,

Greetings to your limitless beauty, which is whole, which is sacred!

Thirty years ago, Satish and I came to live with you, and were completely absorbed in your wilderness. The trees, the birds, the insects, the snakes, and the visiting panthers, became a part of our existence. It gave us a great opportunity to see, to observe, to listen to your different moods, and to learn from you—consciously and unconsciously.

In this pandemic, when human fears, anxieties, sufferings, and sorrows have come to the surface, you have become a healing force to us all.

I have seen you in all your seasons; you grow, flower, wither, and are born again.

In the freshness of the monsoon, you look like a green goddess, wearing millions of colorful and fragrant ornaments. You look happy, cheerful, and fulfilled.

In the winter you shed your leaves and you are ready for new foliage. It may be that when you drop everything, there is a chance for newness to blossom. Now you are grown, dignified, and ready to face all the challenges of life.

In the summer, everything becomes yellow. In the dry soil and scorching heat, it looks like you have lost all hope. You are waiting, praying, asking, looking at the sky for its blessings. I love that mood. You are waiting with dignity.

How do you live with such freshness, year after year? Maybe you don't decide anything. Every moment is new and every experience is fresh.

Maybe Krishnaji saw your religious quality and wanted the human mind, the child's mind, to learn from you. Learn what it means to care, what responsibility is, what harmony is, what it means to relate to others, and what it means to relate to oneself.

I pray that you remain as you are. Beautiful, dignified, and majestic. Always giving, always growing, always renewing.

Lots of love,

Sushama

ನನ್ನ ಪ್ರೀತಿಯ ವ್ಯಾಲಿ,

ಪ್ರತೀ ವರ್ಷ ನಿನ್ನ ಪ್ರೌಢ ಕಳೆ ಹೆಚ್ಚತ್ತಲೇ ಇದೆ. ಸ್ವಲ್ಪವೂ ಕುಂದುತ್ತಿಲ್ಲ ನಿನ್ನ, ಚೆಲವು, ಒಲವು , ಸದಾ ಕಾಲ ಹಸಿರು, ತಾಜಾ ಉಸಿರು, ಉತ್ಸಾಹದ ಚಿಲುಮೆ, ಹರಿಸುತ್ತಿರುವಿ ಒಲುಮೆ !! ಸ್ವಲ್ಪವೂ ಬೇಸರಿಸಿಕೊಳ್ಳದೆ ನನ್ನನ್ನು ಬರಮಾಡಿಕೊಂಡೆ, ಮೊಗೆದು ಮೊಗೆದು ಪ್ರೀತಿ ಕೊಟ್ಟೆ ,ಅನುಭವಗಳಿ೦ದ ಬೆಸೆದೆ, ಜೀವ೦ತಿಕೆ ಹರಿಸಿದೆ, ಎಳೆಯ ಮಿಡಿಯಾಗಿದ್ದ ನಾನು ಮರವಾಗುವ ಪ್ರಯತ್ನದತ್ತ ದೂಡಿದೆ, ಧುರಿತ ಸಮಯದಲ್ಲಿ ಕೈ ಹಿಡಿದೆ, ಸಂತೋಷದ ಸಮಯದಲ್ಲಿ ಬರಸೆಳೆದೆ, ನಿನ್ನ ಪ್ರೀತಿಯ ಒರತೆ, ಇಂದಿಗೂ ಅನ್ನಿಸಲಿಲ್ಲ ಕೊರತೆ!

ನಲವತ್ತುನಾಲ್ಕು ವರ್ಷಗಳ ಸುದೀರ್ಘ ಪಯಣ, ಕೊಟ್ಟಿರುವೆ ಎಲ್ಲರಿಗೂ ತಾಣ, ಕಿರಿಕಿರಿಗಳನ್ನು ಕತ್ತರಿಸಿ, ಹೊಸತನವನ್ನು ಬಿತ್ತರಿಸಿ, ಗಿಡ ಮರಗಳಿಗೆ ಪೋಷಣೆಯಿತ್ತು, ಪ್ರಾಣಿ ಪಕ್ಷಿಗಳಿಗೆ ಆಶ್ರಯವನಿತ್ತು, ಕೆರೆ-ಕೊಳಗಳಿಗೆ ಜಾಗವನ್ನಿತ್ತು, ಮನುಕುಲಕ್ಕೆ ವಿಶ್ವಾಸವನಿತ್ತು ಪಾಲಿಸುತ್ತಿರುವ ನಿನಗೆ ಏನೆಂದು ಆಶಿಸಲಿ?

ನನ್ನ ನಿನ್ನ ಒಡನಾಟದ ಈ ಪಯಣದಲಿ , ನೀ ನನಗೆ ಕೊಟ್ಟಿರುವ ಅನುಭವಕ್ಕೆ ಸದಾ ಋಣಿಯೆಂದು ಹೇಳಲೇ? ಅದನ್ನೂ ಬಯಸುವುದಿಲ್ಲ ನೀನು! ಪ್ರತಿ ವರ್ಷ, ಹಳೆಯದೆನ್ನ ಕೊಡವಿ, ಹಳತನ್ನೆಲ್ಲ ಕೆಡವಿ, ಹೊಸತನ ತರುವಿ. ನಿನ್ನ ಈ ಉತ್ಸಾಹ, ಚೈತನ್ಯ ಎಂದಿಗೂ ಬತ್ತದಿರಲಿ, ಬಾಡದಿರಲಿ. ವರ್ಷ ಕಳೆದ೦ತೆ ಸಹಜವಾಗಿ ಮಾಗುವ ನಿನ್ನಯ ಯಶಸ್ಸನ್ನು ಹಾಗೆ ಉಳಿಸಿಕೋ. ನಲವತ್ನಾಲ್ಕರ ಹುಟ್ಟುಹಬ್ಬದ ಶುಭ ಹಾರೈಕೆಗಳು. ನಿನ್ನ ಪ್ರೀತಿ, ಒಡನಾಟ ಮತ್ತಷ್ಟು ಸಿಗಲಿ .

ಓ ಪ್ರೀತಿಯ ವ್ಯಾಲಿ,

ಹೂ,ಗಿಡ ಮರಗಳ ವನಮಾಲಿ,

ನಿನ್ನ ಜೊತೆಗಿನ ಕಲಿ -ನಲಿ

ಬದುಕಿಲ್ಲ ಗಲಿಬಿಲಿ !!

ಪ್ರೀತಿಯಿಂದ,

ಸ್ವಪ್ನಾ

My dear Valley,

Writing this letter on your 43rd Birthday takes me back 50 years—to 1971—when a few of us requested Krishnaji to give public talks in Bangalore. That was when it all began!

Gratitude to Krishnaji, officers of KFI and House of Khodays, particularly, Sri Hari Khoday, for enabling a small group of people to pursue their vision of Bangalore Education Centre, in complete freedom.

The land for the campus of BEC was purchased in 1972. A building where Krishnaji could stay was constructed by the end of 1973. In the Januaries of 1974 and 1975, Krishnaji held public and small group discussions, in a specially hoisted shamiana, on the agricultural field behind the building. After his passing in 1986, the building became the nucleus of the Study Centre and Retreat.

Due to various reasons and circumstances, we could only commence the Valley School on 17th July, 1978—six years after the acquisition of the land. It was mainly envisioned and managed without a sense of hierarchy, by a small group consisting of Kabir Jayathirtha, Amarendra Roy, K M Sripada Rao and Kamala Subramanian and M K Anantha Swamy. They were supervised and helped by G Narayan, principal of Rishi Valley School.

The Valley began with 110 students—boys and girls in classes 5 to 7. The primary grades had more students than grades 5 and 6; grade 7 had only 7 students. The ICSE Board was chosen for it allowed a flexibility in including other curricula and activities. There were 17 teachers, while chosen mainly for their competency in teaching the subjects but notably for they were open to adopt and learn new ways of teaching and engaging with children. Day-boarding was selected for more than one reason—convenience of school, teachers and parents. Within three years, Valley developed into a full school with 10 grades, with a strength of about 220 students and 35 teachers.

The greater challenge for the core group was to live and introduce Krishnaji’s teachings in the school. K began writing fortnightly letters to the schools from September 1978–this was both helpful and demanding. To quote from it: “When these three are in complete harmony—that is, the mind, the heart and the body, then the flowering comes naturally, easily and in excellence. That is our job as educators, our responsibility, and teaching is the greatest profession in life”

We had a very small team of support staff; we depended on Khodays for their help for quite some time. In the initial few years, it was expected that multiple tasks and responsibilities were held by teachers, the core group and support staff. Our bus drivers were helping in the kitchen; the soup prepared by one of them was a hit with the children! Many parents, particularly mothers, helped in the kitchen. Our house in Jayanagar was not just the city office, but the hub of many activities, including interviews of teachers, staff, students etc. It was also an unofficial guesthouse for a number of foundation members, visitors and guests. My wife, Vijaya, helped with organising the school kitchen, dining, menu etc.; she was the crisis manager in case of transport breakdowns—which was very often the case with old buses. Mind you, there were no mobiles or even landlines at the school. It was a collaborative effort, the endeavour of the many people that came together.

I would like to end with an excerpt by Kahlil Gibran:

Your children are not your children.

They are sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.

They come through you but not from you,

And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love not your thoughts,

For they have their own thoughts.

You may house their bodies but not their souls,

For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,

Which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.

You may strive to be like them,

but seek not to make them like you.

For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

Wishing all the very best to the school and study centre.

MKA

(Anantha Swamy uncle)

Dear Valley,

When life played a hard game with us, you were our saving grace. Your warm welcome made us feel at home instantly. Your kindness soothed our wounds, your generosity our souls. Your greenery enveloped our being, your cool wind our weak bodies. Every square inch of you has only been giving. Not once have you asked for anything in return. You have been forgiving, accommodating, and adapting.

With you coming into our lives, life has taken a turn for the good. Now that is a blessing we shall always count!

On this birthday, we wish you many more decades of the magic spell that you cast on all the lives that you touch. We also wish you many more decades of nurturing and fostering, of encouraging and supporting those who come into your fold. Most importantly, we wish you many more decades of fortitude and resilience to face any onslaught of avarice, materialism, and malice.

Happy Birthday to our dear Valley!

From Ramki and Swarna

Namaste and Greetings!

Thank you for giving me this opportunity to share my experience with The Valley over the years. I was all of 27 years old when Trisha joined The Valley, and today I am 46 years old. The Valley has definitely impacted our lives; I can see a transformation in myself—from where I started to where I have reached. This could be a triple effect of Valley (JK), Montessori and yoga.

Experiences of the Study Centre discussions or retreats have been very helpful in my deeper understanding of life and its experiences. The clarity with which one can reflect upon decision-making or observing one’s own thoughts is some real art that has truly come with The Valley.

The art of parenting without authority—to instil fear or superficial discipline, but to very simply engage through dialogue and discussion is truly effective, healthy and beneficial. Discussions on this light have helped me view the world in a different perspective. This freshness to life and experiences would have definitely stagnated if not for The Valley and JK’s teachings. I feel immensely blessed to be a part of the Valley family.

These experiences continue to help me work with parents and teachers in nurturing children of the Siksha Montessori and Siksha Elementary school. It’s so wonderful to stir up the thought process of the adults and help them find out for themselves, as they reflect upon the teachings of JK. The Siksha School is based on the philosophies of JK and Dr. Montessori.

The impact of the school environment is tremendous! The Valley enables young adults to be responsible, truthful, sensitive—full of love and empathy. If education can do this everywhere, then the world can definitely be a better place to live, in the near future.

Warm Regards,

Neetha Harish

Happy Birthday my dear Valley!

The years breathed in your vast expanse

Looking closely, deeply, intently

At the nuanced charm of nature

For which you always created a context,

Made me realise that you no longer exist separate from me

You are in me.

I have discovered you every day

In things around me

Within me

Cheerfully, Gratefully, Wistfully

Floral clusters of Kadamb

Taunted me a month ago

Such resemblance to the virus-with-its-spikes

Ah! Isn’t this the same Kadamb

That was planted in the Amphitheatre on Valley’s last birthday

When we remotely watched the planting ceremony

The same virus holding us at bay?

Divya

Dear Valley,

This is my fourth year as a Valley parent. In the last four-odd years, every time I have visited Valley—from study meet sessions and orientations to the School's birthday and Art Mela—I have felt an inexplicable sense of calm and peace while entering the Silence Zone stretch.

After spending a couple of hours at Valley, chit-chatting with fellow parents, attending some thought-provoking sessions, soaking in the atmosphere and the familiar favourite spots, discovering new ones and, of course, indulging in the wonderful food, chai and the occasional chakli, I would return home very content. It always felt like a day well-spent. My fitness tracker would show 7,000 steps and I would be in that ‘Valley’ zone in my head all day long! Back then, I did not really attempt to understand what was so different about that pleasant feeling.

While driving back home, I would often wonder, what if Valley was set in a building complex… In town, with minimal free area? Would it have the same appeal? Would Valley even be ‘Valley’ then? We might never know, is what I would tell myself.

In March 2020, we were struck by the news that the pandemic had hit home and that schools would be shut ahead of schedule. I was mildly upset about missing the chance to visit Valley and the PTM experience of interacting with various teachers, in person. Little did we know then that the cruel virus would affect us all in multiple ways and would change our lives in the coming months and year(s). As the summer months rolled by, it became increasingly clear that school is not going to be near Thataguni, and we will not have our rushed morning routines to catch Tirichmir.

Just like that, one fine June morning, Valley came home! For over 14 months and counting, you have been as much a part of our daily lives as our child’s. In the truest sense for us, you became the place of learning for the adults too!

You touched us in a million ways:

You came home through Zoom calls,

You came home through lovingly-created welcome songs, dances, poems and skits,

You came home through sensitively told stories,

You came home through hand-holding us as we were struggling with work and homework,

You came home to give us a virtual hug when we were grieving,

You came home to tell us “it is okay and you are doing more than okay,”

You came home as worksheets that sought to ignite the child’s imagination,

You came home as the love, attention and care from the educators,

You came home as the child’s wonder while watching a Brahmini kite from the balcony,

You came home as the child’s curiosity in waiting for the first Brahma Kamala to bloom,

You came home in the child’s volunteering to do dishes, saying, “we do it in school always,”

You came home as a chance for us adults to experience school again,

You came home in the tamarind pod that was picked up during weekend visits,

You came home in the lessons of patience and acceptance we learnt as adults,

You came home in the memories of the rocky slide, jungle gym, machan and guppy pond,

You came home as the Mysore Pak recipe in the school newsletter,

You came home to dwell in our hearts.

I felt then that Valley is not just a place or geography. In some sense, you are timeless, space-less, a spirit, a thought, a community, and made up of myriad intangibles.

In much gratitude, I wish our dear Valley a very happy 43^rd birthday. Here’s hoping the gates open once again to allow us the touch-and-feel experience of the abundance that is The Valley.

Warm regards,

Padmapriya

मम प्रिय व्यालि!

त्वं कथम् असि? तत्र सर्वं कुशलं इति मन्ये| मम समीपे किञ्चित् जनाः किमर्थं संस्कृतं पठनीयम् इति पृच्छन्ति | अतः अहं तद्विषये किञ्चित् वक्तुम् इच्छामि |

साधारणजनानां कल्पना अस्ति यत् संस्कृते केवलं मन्त्राः स्तोत्राणि च भवन्ति इति | संस्कृतशब्दस्य अर्थः भवति परिष्कृतम् इति, पवित्रीकृतम् इति च । तस्य विपरीतार्थकः शब्दः भवति प्राकृतम् इति ।

यद्यपि अत्यन्तसंस्कारयुक्तं परिपक्वं च भवति संस्कृतं तथापि पठितुम् अतीव सरलं तद् इति कति जनाः जानन्ति?

भारते इदानीम् अनेके ग्रामाः सन्ति यत्र सर्वा अपि जनता धाराप्रवाहवत् भाषणं संस्कृतेन कुर्वन्ति। विविधराष्ट्रेषु विद्यमानाः भूयिष्ठाः भाषाविज्ञाः एकमनसा संस्कृतभाषां सर्वथा पूर्णा भाषा इति अभिज्ञातवन्तः ।

तस्याः अत्युत्तमं व्याकरणं, श्रेष्ठा ध्वनिघटना, असङ्ख्यशब्दनिधिश्च सन्ति । ततोऽपि विशेषतः भारतस्य प्राचीनं ज्ञानविज्ञानकोशम् उद्घाटयितुं सैव कुञ्चिका भवति।

भारते सुवर्णयुगे प्रशस्तानाम् नृपाणां शासनकाले जनैः भाषितम् आसीत् संस्कृतमिति ज्ञानं कस्य वा कुतूहलं न जनयेत् ।तथा आसीत् संस्कृतस्य सारल्यम् |

आवां शीघ्रमेव मिलावः | जयतु भारतम्! जयतु मनुकुलम्!

सस्नेहम्,

पुष्कला

Namaskara Valley!

It’s your birthday, and it is time to celebrate. Along with many others, I would have been there today—dressed in a nice dhothi—to participate in the pallaki procession and witness the tree planting… with all the chanting and singing in the background. And the birthday wouldn’t be complete without bisibelebath & holige at the dining hall!

It has been a few months since I came over for a walk and the conversations I’d have with you, in my mind, as I walked around. Yet I feel connected to you in mind and spirit—if not in body, with my physical presence there. But I have to say I miss being there physically. The sounds of the students’ chatter, the dust on my shoes, quiet walks, the ‘simple’ food we eat there—are some of the things I miss in the physical realm.

For your birthday, I want to talk about some of the spaces within you that I fondly remember. I was fortunate to be able to visit you for my Goonj classes every Saturday. That part of you, at the Art Village, is something that I really appreciate. The vibrations created by the tanpura, and the voices that enhanced it, or the sounds of the gejje from the dance studio or the splendor of clay at the pottery studio—in your natural setting, was divine beauty that touched the soul. Do you know when we can ‘freely’ do it again?

The other side of you was equally appealing to me – the school side. That’s where you gave space for the children’s classrooms. It would simply lighten up my mood to be in this area—the children running around carefree, the teachers always smiling, the hymns from the assembly, the excitement of the bus arriving or leaving—just thinking of you, Valley, gives me happy thoughts.

You probably already know this, but I’ll tell you anyway—I started running because of you! It was the initial 5K Cross Valley run that made me decide to take this sport up seriously! Now, I may have run half-marathons, but it is running at Valley that is still a challenge and a joy.

It is the parts of you that add up to the whole—it’s the entire Valley that I love and appreciate. Thank you for all that you’ve given us and I’m grateful for all the joy you bring to our lives.

For all the happiness you spread, and lives you shape—hridaya poorvaka dhanyavadagalu!

Prashanta

A sense of peace

Holds a special place in many hearts

Where everything makes sense

Where we are immersed in nature of every form

Aloof and together at the same time

Always welcoming.

These are just a few phrases that come to my mind when I think of Valley.

Add—colourful, vibrant, chatter, singing, eating,

festive, growing, bustling of energy,

and we have Valley’s Birthday!

I have so many memories attached to Valley’s birthday, I doubt if I can put them into words. Some of those memories include: My older one munching on mud when he was a few months old; sitting under the banyan tree late into the night; trying to sing Naad Ninaad songs even when I didn’t know the lyrics; being awed every year by the celebrations. I realize how privileged I feel being part of The Valley.

There is always a freshness and an energetic atmosphere around school that brings everything to life. Just being there is soothing; the innocent laughter of children following us everywhere. As I write this, I wonder when we will be back in school—to be together, to experience everything again. I realize, it is okay; Valley is in our hearts, in all of our hearts! We are together all the time.

Ramya Aravind

From: alwaysnewbieparent@aamail.com

To: The Valley Community

Sub: A ‘newbie’ Valley parent at the School’s Birthday

When I first heard of The Valley School celebrating a birthday, I was pleasantly surprised. I had heard of ‘annual days’ and ‘founder days’ for schools–a birthday was altogether new! In the weeks leading up to the D-day, our daughter brought home titbits of what to expect. Not that these made me any wiser, they were wisps of a beautiful jigsaw that I could not quite grasp.

Stepping into the Valley as a ‘newbie’ parent on the birthday, the air itself seemed festive. There were broad smiles and cheerful voices everywhere. It did not matter that we knew very few people then. The joy was contagious, and our spirits were lifted. We were at home.

Our ‘firstie’ looked so small in contrast to the ‘tenthies’ and ‘twelthies’! Bittersweet feelings engulfed me – these happy, young ones in dhothies and sarees, given the joyous responsibility of the tree planting ceremony. It seemed to be the best way to begin the process of bidding farewell to the place one has grown up in.

Wait! Were those the notes of nadaswaram? That bold, unapologetic, and yet soul-stirring instrument of the weddings and Deepavalis of my childhood? What a unique way to accompany the saplings to the planting ground!

Copies of the Naad Ninaad were thoughtfully passed around to us parents; the children did not need them. They had picked up the chants, notes, and words as they rightly should, naturally through the days, months, and years they had spent in the Valley. Joining along, my heart soared, feeling connected to the place and everyone there - present and past.

After a rejuvenating, traditional snack while exchanging news with our fellow ‘newbie’ parents, we followed the trail of adults to the amphitheatre. A treat for the ears and eyes followed, as the children, former students, and teachers sang, danced, recited, and shared their thoughts and feelings. “No mike?” Another first for us parents.

After polishing off the scrumptious bisibelebath and mysore pak, we ran into our daughter, who reminded her younger brother, “Run to the football field and remember to cheer for Valley, not ex-Valley”. A friendly match – aha, that’s a great way to work up an appetite!

We felt like kids at a typical birthday party – we wanted to linger and not be the first to leave. Our children helped us – they wanted to endlessly slide down the giant slide in the jungle gym, go for unending turns on the tyre swing in the junior school, run aimlessly around the football field – all deftly handling their traditional wear! Among parents (mostly the fathers, I must say!), the discussions were serious – which location was more suitable for a short siesta, the area near the lily pond, or the place under the tree near the kuchcha court?

Leave we must and we did, but with cheer and hope as we knew the Sports Day was in August – just a month away. Our dear school will invite us parents, and we could bask in the warmth of The Valley very soon.

Surprisingly (or maybe not so surprising), I found my feelings of joy and discovery surface again and again, in the nine school’s birthdays I celebrated since 2011. Yes, in the virtual one too, last year. All nine felt like the first one. Perhaps it is because of the school and its people, who like nature, refresh, learn, renew, and yet in one sense, stay the same. My children may grow up and not be a part of the Valley physically, but we will always be connected to it. And every school’s birthday, whether I am part of the celebrations in person or virtually, I think I will always feel like I did on my first School’s birthday – a ‘newbie’ who is at home.

With love and affection,

Ramya Gopalakrishnan

Dear Valley,

After the heavy rain yesterday, there is a softness in the air now. The little extra moisture feels like a gentle touch of affection; an invitation to slow down.

What is it here that makes it very different from any other place? How is it that in this aggressive, materialistic world, a place like this continues to exist? It is really difficult for a child to grow up without being compared and judged… When every step is measured and compared by the adults around.

Being part of The Valley feels so different! There is no measurement here. Nobody is preferred more. Your hands are wide open to embrace everybody as they are. It is indeed here that one feels invited to explore the structure of the ‘self’ in relation to everything that exists around. Isn’t it interesting, this idea of two movements—one that flows inward as well as outward? Not separating oneself from the mundane?

Amidst nature, I have observed people recognizing the value in silence. Maybe it helps us all realize that we are all just small parts of the bigger intelligence that has been in operation.

The shades of deep green all around, the flowers in different seasons, the music of the birds, the streams, the gentle wind, the many different forms in clouds during sunsets, the stormy evenings—it all feels like a performance by a great artist!

Even when there is a crisis all around, I hope we will be able to keep aside the self and live for the other. At such times, we can only turn to you and learn from what you have to offer. How beautifully you embrace the new—shedding away the past. We only wish we could learn to renew ourselves the way the trees grow new leaves every year.

I am grateful to have met you.

Wish you a very Happy Birthday!

Sukalpo

27^th June 2021

My Dear Valley School,

Wishing you a very happy 43^rd birthday!

Every year, July 17^th, begins with a lot of enthusiasm in your beautiful campus. The air is filled with festivity, flowers, joy and laughter, music, and dance, as students and adults all colorfully dressed come in to participate in the celebration of your birthday. It is a very special day for everyone who has been a part of you.

My memory takes me back to the early nineties when I witnessed your birthday celebrations for the first time and was touched to see the beauty and solemnity of the ceremonial tree planting with chanting and music amidst the wilderness. This was the first time I had experienced something like this. Many years have passed since then; I have cherished every moment of my association with you and the people who nurture and care for you.

Today you turn 43! Wishing all the students, teachers, staff and all the others associated with your family a happy celebration in their own homes. Hopefully next year we will be able to meet again in school and celebrate the day together.

Best Wishes,

Sudha Aunty

Dear Valley,

Thank you for being such a beautiful place.

We have missed you a lot every day for over a year now. We’ve also missed celebrating your birthday last year. Your birthdays are so much fun. Time to get together—meeting friends young and old, planting and chanting, singing and dancing, playing and watching the football match, enjoying Bisibelebhat and Mysore Pak! It is such a pleasure to walk to the different venues, leisurely chatting with all we meet on the way. I am sure you must be eagerly waiting for all of us to come to you. The dogs, the trees, the stream, the lake, the birds, the insects, the jungle gyms, the playgrounds all must be awaiting the arrival of children and adults.

We are lucky dear Valley, even if we can’t visit you in a large group, we do get to come in small groups, or better still, alone—when we connect with you in a very different way. In fact, this past year was the time when I came to see you and spent a lot of time in leisure—with no agenda… just walking and watching the amazing things, which I would easily miss observing during a typical school day.

Let me tell you about one of the days I visited you. I parked my vehicle at the Zero gate and started walking quietly on the new path. Quietly? Probably not! There was a mat of dried leaves and every step I took made a lot of noise. A few birds were chirping and I could hear the distant sound of a vehicle on the road before I reached the Amla tree. Generally, when I look up while walking under this tree, I would see a few bees around. But today it was very different, there was so much life. The tree was full of tiny insects buzzing around. On looking carefully, I could see that the tree had flowered. Tiny white flower—so inconspicuous from a distance but made conspicuous by the large number of insects that were attracted. I had never noticed the Amla flowers closely. They were beautiful! The flowers seemed to be growing out of the leaves. I stopped and looked at the base of the bamboo tree where my little friend, the tunnel spider lived. Today, it did not mind my presence and allowed me to talk to it. I had not seen this during my earlier visits—it would shy away and enter its tunnel in a fraction of a second. I spent an hour strolling up and down the path, sitting on the little bench once in a while. As the sun started to set, the path felt radiant.

All my visits this year have been very precious to me. Listening to the bird calls, watching the cute little insects, observing the trees, strolling around and just being with you. On one such visit, I got to see an astounding number of marching ants. One of the most beautiful things to observe is people working together. I could see the ants working together on a challenging task of carrying a stick on a fallen leaf. During these leisurely visits, I observed many things, beautiful and intriguing—snail shells stuck on a tree, dragonfly drills, to name a few. I am surprised by the wonders that are hidden in you; I just need to quieten down to see all this beauty.

Thank you dear Valley

for being a home to all,

the big and the small.

Thank you for being you!

Happy Birthday! I wish that you live forever… ever changing and throwing beautiful surprises for all those who connect with you.

Affectionately,

Vaishali

PS: Acknowledging my daughter for helping