GHOST OF CHRISTMAS PAST . . .

Meeting up with old friends can be a very strange experience, which needn’t always be gratifying; after the initial excitement of ‘catching up’ dies down, it might actually turn out to be quite mortifying and discontenting indeed. I doubt if there is a better way to find out about the dichotomies of your past and present. It leaves you delving into existential questions like, do people change? More importantly, have you changed? (When I say you I primarily speak for myself, and take the liberty to make the assumption that there are others who have experienced the same, so well, ‘you’ need not be YOU.) Having my dad in a transferable job, and ergo having grown up all over the country, I have had more than my fair share of such fortuitous encounters with people from my past, people whom I had written off and almost placed on the same pedestal as Muhammad Bin Tuglaq or Fredrick Barbarossa for that matter. I have realized that you cannot write off people, you can merely turn the page, and if you turn too many you have to move on to a new book. There have been encounters I have looked forward to, and even dreamt about, but sadly after they materialized, I was left wishing they had not. Take for example meeting my class three crush (and also my first, in line amongst many others) in class 11 was nothing short of a disaster, after an awkward silence of half an hour, we mulled over my coin collection the entire afternoon, much to her relief, and mine. I simply couldn’t overcome the fact that she had grown up to be so beautiful, the fact that we spent many a afternoons in my balcony all those years back didn’t help matters much, and yes I was tongue tied, my womanising skills were still at their infancy back then and I was not quite the Casanova I believe myself to be now. There have been many other such encounters in which I have often rediscovered shreds of my innocence, found a bit of my lost self, time permitting, I shall take upon myself the tedium of documenting them some day, but as of now, it’s a luxury I cannot afford. And considering the fact that I am not yet 20, I can safely bet that there are many such encounters which lie in wait, many shreds that are yet to be pieced together, many facets to be rediscovered. Merry Christmas people, and a happy new year, this Christmas get that old phone book you used to keep before you got yourself a cell, begin this new year with old friends, spread the cheer :).

I think I will start with that class three friend of mine with whom I spent many a pristine afternoons under the Bangalore sky...