Thursday, October 24, 2013

When New Times feel like the Old Times


I wish last Sunday happens this Sunday too. But then again, if every Sunday is the same, then perhaps there might be little charm left. However, last Sunday should happen... someday soon, someday down the line... 

We girls from SMC should meet again.

It is quite a shame that I have been in Bangalore for eight years and I know that there are girls from my school who stays in the city; however, such is the hesitation or business of life that I never once made the effort to meet them. Except for one friend (whose added advantage was that her family knows mine since before we were born), there were hardly any interaction with other SMC people. I saw them on social networking sites, knew what they were doing, knew they were fine, that they were in Bangalore, but never made up my mind to meet them.

And then... like a lightning bolt on a sunny day...
Moramee happened.

Now, if you are someone of my 2003 batch of SMC, Guwahati, there’s no way you will not know about Moramee. She is like a mixed pickle... at least I perceive her so... she can be with anyone and she puts flavour when things are bland. So, she came to Bangalore last week and as soon as she landed, she did the thing that none of the other SMC batchmates in Bangalore did.

She connected.

She gathered all our numbers and addresses, plotted our addresses in Google map to see who lives where and sent out messages to everyone to meet in one common place. I was, to say the least, pleasantly jolted for a sec to see her message... It was unexpected. She coming to Bangalore was unexpected. She, who doesn’t have my number, to message me was unexpected. The meet-up was unexpected!

On Sunday, the twentieth, I met Moramee in the all-familiar Forum mall in Koramangala. I didn’t know who else would be there. But I was pleasantly surprised to see Alpana, Rijusmita and Chandramita standing in a circle with the bubbling-with-enthu-Moramee. After a while, Nami and Minakshi joined us.

That evening I met my classmates and I met people of other sections whom I never had the chance to know in school (yea, 12 years in school and we still get such excuses to mouth-out!) I didn’t feel the usual queasy-feeling in the stomach I feel when I have to meet strangers. Of course, they weren’t strangers. I knew them, though from a distance; we had the same memories of school and same stories to relate to.

Statistically speaking, it has been 10 years since we attended SMC. We have grown up (“laterally, if not, vertically!” was the joke), some are married, some studying, some working... all so diverse, yet so similar. It was, no doubt, the glue that bonds SMCs. Unspoken code of sisterhood... we all felt like we belonged in this little circle of friends, laughing, happy, sharing a coffee, sharing  quirky moments that happened in school, sharing our present lives.

We spent nearly three hours together, we said a dozen good-byes before we finally parted ways, we promised we will keep in touch. I don’t know how much of that promise will hold good, but we had a soulful time and each one of us mentioned how it didn’t feel like a 10years’ abstain from SMC. The memories of school were fresh, the laughter was care-free; it was a beautiful evening.

In a city where I pass so many faceless people, lost in a crowd with no familiar face to smile at, it felt nice to be with them. It was generous of them to come and share their time in the busy lives that this city makes of us. It was a Sunday that was so fulfilling after so long a time.

All thanks to the pickle in our midst, Moramee. Thanks for coming to Bangalore and adding flavour to my bland palette!


Fellow SMC of 2003 

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