“Let’s meet up” is an oft- heard sentence when you bump into someone after ages. Once initial euphoria of meeting someone from the past , and after the few mandatory pleasantries are exchanged , this makes for a perfect parting line . And very often it remains one of those rhetorical exchanges that get lost in a heap of good intentions. Because as we all know : Life Happens.
So I was surprised when this Saturday past, I actually met up with people I hadn’t met for over 40 years and some whom I had never met at all ! And all because someone did follow up on the suggestion that those of us who could , should meet .
Initially there was some hesitation on my part about joining a party where there were more unknowns than known , but like J ( one of the movers and shakers behind our group ) reassured us when we were hesitant about joining the group, we should behave as nonchalantly as we did when we were the new kids in town: step outside your building / house find a kid around your age , exchange names and begin to play.
And so the party began and we all had a fun time reminiscing about the past , exchanging life stories , while we munched on kebabs and downed shandies and pink Gins.
A reunion to remember
There was a lot of excitement building up two weeks prior to the reunion and the organisers who were purely voluntary took a lot of trouble getting the menu and the venue just right . Of course it also helped that all of us came from a similar background and were easy going and adaptable to begin with .
We met in the Cantonment Bubble that many of us had lived in at various stages of its development. While the place has changed beyond recognition , our collective memories remained the same : playing French Cricket, weekly movies at the Club where drowning potato chips with a vile ketchup and flinging the empty plates like frisbees after the chips were done was par for the course and a hundred different anecdotes and incidents ( which I would not like to share ) of people we had all heard about or knew .
The boys whom we remembered from our childhood were now grown men . Their voices had changed, hairlines receded, waist lines increased but yet they remained the same .
Similarly we girls had changed. Some had blazed trails , some had become grannies . Many like me had become full ‘blown’ women while others had become sophisticated women of the world . Yet beneath it all , you could find a lurking giggle, a loud laugh or an old friend .
And even though we were gray haired ‘kids’ , the few parents in our midst though older and greyer, still commanded awe and respect and instinctively we reverted to minding our P’s and Q’s as we did in days of yore when we spoke to Uncles and Aunties .
What was it that made this afternoon magical and memorable – old memories ? Old bonds? Old friends ?
It’s hard to tell but I came away in a haze of nostalgia and am grateful to everyone who made it happen.
Ciao,
Twenty- five Seven 