This month, Mayo College, Ajmer, marks its 150th year, a remarkable milestone for one of India’s most storied institutions. Celebrations are taking place across India and around the world, as Mayo alumni gather in unprecedented numbers to rekindle the indomitable spirit of “ Go Mayo”.
Founded in October 1875 by Richard Southwell Bourke, the then viceroy of India, the school was envisioned as a premier institution offering a British-style education to the sons of India’s princely families, particularly from Rajputana. The first student was the son of the Maharaja of Alwar. As word spread, more princes joined, and the school gained prestige as a “princely college”. Residences were built for these young royals and their retinues; after Independence, these grand buildings became dormitories and houses for future generations of Mayo boys.
The first principal, Sir Oliver St John, left an enduring legacy — his name still lives on in the St John’s sports ground. Indeed, much of Mayo’s physical and moral heritage is remembered through its sports fields, often named after the principals who shaped the school’s identity.
I joined Mayo in 1966, at the age of nine, when it had been a public boarding school for less than two decades. Then, it was divided into junior, middle, and senior houses, classifications that have since evolved. Many of the houses bore princely names such as Jaipur, Bharatpur, Ajmer, Bikaner, Tonk, and Alwar, with later additions like Rajasthan House and Oman House, the latter honouring the Sultan of Oman, himself a Mayo alumnus.
Our generation, which studied there between 1966 and 1972, witnessed a changing India and a transforming Mayo. We joined during the tenure of the legendary Padma Shri J T M Gibson, a remarkable Englishman who had earlier taught at Doon and made Ajmer his permanent home. Fit, rugged, and spirited, Gibson was often seen driving across the campus in his open jeep, leading boys on treks to Madar Hill or Taragarh Fort. Every new boy was expected to climb one. Those climbs became rites of passage.
Gibson believed in shaping rounded personalities built on teamwork, discipline, and sportsmanship. In his time, heroes were sportsmen who embodied skill, endurance, and leadership. Mayo’s sprawling campus, with over 25 playing fields, numerous tennis and squash courts, and an open-air gymnasium, reinforced that ethos. The central ground, with its majestic red sandstone Bikaner Pavilion, remains an enduring image of Mayo life. When Ranji Trophy matches were held there, the boundary had to be brought in, a testimony to its vastness.
Every Saturday, a film screening in the open air was the highlight of our entertainment. Most students came from Rajasthan’s aristocratic families or from defence backgrounds. In my batch of about 100, nearly 30 were from military families. Academic rigour was balanced with sport and character-building. Students either pursued the ISC or Higher Secondary exam; those opting for the latter stayed an extra term, bridging two batches and creating lifelong cross-generational bonds.
House loyalties and batch camaraderie remain strong even now. Many of us are still known by our house, number, or nickname, unchanged though we are nearing 70.
When Gibson retired in 1969, he was succeeded by Shomi Ranjan Das, a dynamic young educator from Scotland’s Gordonstoun. Das, an alumnus of Doon, brought a refreshing intellectual energy and widened the definition of excellence beyond sports. Under him, writing, debating, quizzing, and academic merit gained new prominence. He introduced a more liberal ethos, trusting students with greater independence and freedom.
Although Mayo’s foundation rested on sports, its alumni have excelled across fields: Service chiefs, diplomats, ambassadors, civil servants, bankers and entrepreneurs. In my own diplomatic career, I have often discovered a fellow Mayoite in far corners of the world and that instant bond of familiarity has led to lasting friendships. As India’s ambassador I always wore the Mayo Peacocks on my achkan, as we did at school. while presenting credentials.
Mayo produced celebrated sportsmen, including test cricketers, squash champions, and swimmers. But perhaps more remarkably, the number of writers, editors, and journalists from Mayo exceeds even its sporting heroes. Many alumni are now active in cinema, arts, and academia.
Over time, Mayo’s student composition has changed. It now attracts ambitious parents from India’s Tier-2 cities seeking holistic education for their children. Academic results have risen sharply, reflecting this confidence. The campus has expanded, hosting over 700 students. Alongside is the Mayo College Girls’ School, whose equestrians have won international medals and its academic results are enviable. A Mayoor day school now serves Ajmer’s townspeople, spreading Mayo’s educational ethos more widely.
The friendships forged in dormitories of two, three, or 10 boys remain some of life’s strongest. Success in school did not always predict success in life, yet the values Mayo instilled — teamwork, endurance, and fairness — prepared us all. Post-1991 economic reforms and globalisation have seen Mayo alumni thrive in the private sector and abroad, but also in public life, as ministers, governors, and policymakers.
My own memories remain vivid, playing cricket on a full-sized ground, boxing and earning a black eye, indulging my passion for hockey and modelling or joining moonlight picnics where the entire school played hide and seek under a full moon. Even the food, once dreaded, is nostalgically recalled: Liver curry on toast, gatte ki sabzi, shuley kebabs, and Rajasthani kadhi — flavours that instantly bring Ajmer to mind.
Today, the Mayo alumni have given back generously. The golf course, robotics lab, new science blocks, and the Kangra amphitheatre are all funded by old boys. Batches commemorate their jubilees by creating scholarships, mentoring students, and supporting internships ensuring that Mayo’s tradition of excellence and empathy continues.
When we say “Go Mayo!”, it echoes pride, nostalgia, and gratitude. Our teachers, principals, and housemasters shaped us in ways that endure. Even today, some teachers in their nineties recall students by name and house number proof that Mayo’s legacy is not just of brick and mortar but of memory and mentorship.
Over 150 years, Mayo College has produced generations who contributed to India and the wider Global South — with empathy, inclusiveness, and integrity. In our time, we never differentiated by class, religion, or background. Sitting side by side in classrooms, we learned equality, respect, and conscience without a formal “moral science” class. Those lessons, gently instilled, have lasted a lifetime.
Mayo at 150 stands as more than an institution; it is a living tradition, a brotherhood and sisterhood of minds and memories, where time passes but the spirit never fades.
The writer, a former diplomat, is author of The Mango Flavour: India & ASEAN After 10 years of the AEP
