A classmate from my primary school days called me up one
fine morning out of the blue, to invite me for the wedding of his
daughter. I could not recognize the voice;
my mind was completely blank. He kept insisting
enthusiastically over the phone to recognize who the caller was. I gave up.
After he introduced himself (rather disappointingly, I thought), something
inside my brain clicked and I could vaguely remember the chubby little boy with
a friendly face. Now, who would
recognize someone you have never seen or heard from, for the past 50 years or
so.
Oh! What a day and week that turned out to be;
reliving the past memories of my old school days. I immediately called up another classmate friend
of mine, who is still in touch with me for the past 55 odd years and exchanged
this good news. It appeared that it was
he, who had provided my number to the new caller buddy from my old school days.
As old memories rushed in, I rummaged through my desks
and drawers to search for an old school group photograph that I had somehow preserved
(hidden cleverly from my wife, who has this strong penchant for disposing of
old things at random despite strong resistance from the other family members!). On spotting the old classmate of mine in the group photograph, I
felt excited like a school boy who is unexpectedly handed an ice-candy.
I made certain of the venue and date of the marriage reception
of my classmate’s daughter; although my inner mind kept agitating on attending
the reception late in the evening, all-dressed up, and driving to the venue in
Bangalore’s traffic conditions. I would
say it was a real achievement in the end, having managed to keep my date at the
wedding reception.
As soon as my old friend (buddy of 55+ years) and I, entered
the reception venue (a little apprehensively as we did not know anybody there),
a young lady usher confronted us at the door and asked us whether we were from
the bride’s side or the groom’s side. We
were taken aback at this questioning girl; we blurted out that the bride’s
father was our classmate from primary school days. We could see that the young lady was a bit skeptical with the explanation; however, she hid her disappointment well and bade us sit
on one side of the reception hall.
Meanwhile, a dapper middle-aged gentleman (wearing silk brocaded Kurta
and Pyjama of “Maanyavar” brand) with greying hairs, approached us with a hesitant smile,
stretching out his hand. You are Ganapathy
and Nagaraj, right, he said. He was all
warmth and ebullient. Our minds were frantically
trying to connect the boy from the school photograph with the middle-aged gentleman in
front of us. We embraced each other warmly
and got into deep conversation for the next two or three minutes reminiscing excitedly
about our school days. The bride's father went on to confess that he recognized our faces only from the WhatsApp profile photos. Unluckily for us, we did not have the luxury
of recognizing the bride’s father beforehand, as there was no profile photo of his on WhatsApp. Be that as it may, how long can the conversation
last in the middle of a bustling marriage reception? there were other people in
the marriage hall vying for the attention of the bride’s father; he hesitatingly told us take
our seats and moved away greeting other wedding guests merrily.
We had the fortune of meeting another primary school
buddy of ours in the reception hall (our pal Suri) and it was a wonderful reunion of sorts of our
old school mates. It was an eventful evening
to remember! We all swore that we would keep
in touch with each other and have a regular sort of ‘meet’ of our old school
mates. We reminisced late into evening
about the good times we had as school boys (although I had hated going to school,
when I was a kid) and how wonderful those days were (an outright exaggeration,
as we were just naïve boys of the Sixties!).
In the long years of having lived my life, I have had the
privilege of attending a number of school/college get-together/send-offs;
professional get-together/send-offs (innumerable transfers/trainings and
even resignations); where there were some moving,
emotional speeches made / delivered; addresses or contact numbers exchanged; and
tearful hugs with earnest promises made to keep in touch with each other. Whither those promises and tearful hugs? Well,
that’s life for you; you learn to move on.
Is this emotional reunion of my old school classmates in
a wedding reception going the same way?
Hopefully not. In this age of easy
telecommunication access, there shouldn’t be any problem dialing from our mobile
contacts, right? Well, keeping my fingers on the dial!
