There’s this almost magical feeling, isn’t there? The kind that sweeps over you when you reconnect with people who knew you back when you were still trying to figure out who you were. It’s a bit like opening an old box you found in the attic after years of forgetting about it. You lift the lid, and suddenly, you’re flooded with the smell of old paper, the sight of faded photographs, and the sound of laughter you’d almost forgotten. And in an instant, you’re back in time. That’s exactly what I felt like when I recently had the chance to meet up with my classmates from Vinay Nagar Bengali Senior Secondary School, New Delhi.

These were the kids I grew up with—the ones who saw me through scraped knees, awkward first crushes, and the terror of having to speak in front of the whole class. From first grade to eighth, we were inseparable, a tight-knit group of little dreamers. But then, life took its course. In 1976, I left the school, and as the years slipped by, each one took us further apart, until we were just names on a memory that felt so distant.

Imagine my surprise, then, when I found myself sitting in a cosy corner of Chittaranjan Bhavan, in Chittaranjan Park, surrounded by those very same familiar faces. I could hardly believe it was happening—there we were, after decades, laughing, chatting, and reconnecting as if no time had passed at all.

One of the most incredible things about that reunion was how effortlessly we fell back into our old camaraderie. It felt like time had folded upon itself, like a page crumpling and then being smoothed out. Suddenly, we were right back on the schoolyard, in that magical, carefree world we once inhabited. The years, in some ways, just vanished. We found ourselves reminiscing about our favorite teachers, recalling the silly pranks we used to pull, and laughing until our sides ached. I was struck by how easily we slid back into those rhythms—some of us had changed quite a bit over the years, of course, but the essence of who we were, those little quirks, those mannerisms we all knew so well, were still there.

What struck me most deeply, though, was the sheer diversity of the paths we had all walked since those days. Each one of us had taken a different route, filled with its own set of challenges, triumphs, and growth. Some had become accomplished professionals, others had dedicated their lives to service, and some, well, had ventured down the road less travelled. Yet, despite the many twists and turns our individual stories had taken, there was one thing we all shared—our memories of those early days at Vinay Nagar. And it was in those shared moments that we found common ground. It was a reminder, a beautiful one, of how our pasts shape who we become, and how those friendships of our youth leave an indelible mark on our hearts.

I’d be remiss not to mention the person without whom this whole reunion might have remained nothing more than a wistful “what if?” That person was my childhood best friend, Dwijesh Bose. He was the one who made it all happen. Thanks to his efforts, I found myself surrounded by so many familiar faces—Radha, Amitabha, Shoma, Dipen, and Ashish. And though Shyamal, Sharmishtha, and Kanchan couldn’t make it in person, they joined us remotely, connecting with us from various corners of the country. And, perhaps the most special part of the reunion, was the presence of our beloved Bangiya Sir, our Biology teacher. His passion for teaching had left a deep and lasting impact on all of us, and it was truly heartwarming to see him again.

As we sat together, exchanging stories and memories, it became increasingly clear just how precious these connections are. Life gets busy, and as we grow, we often forget to hold on to the people who knew us when we were still figuring out the world around us. We made a promise that day, a simple but profound promise: we wouldn’t let another 50 years go by before we met again. The joy of reconnecting, of rediscovering those bonds, was far too special to let fade away.

Leaving that gathering, I couldn’t shake the sense of gratitude that had settled in my heart. Gratitude for the memories, for the friendships, and for the simple yet profound truth that those childhood bonds—those friendships formed in the early days of our lives—stay with us, no matter where life takes us. I left with a heart full of warmth, already looking forward to the next reunion. Hopefully, it will be bigger and better, with even more familiar faces joining in.

Childhood friendships are like the first brushstrokes on a canvas. They’re the foundation, the very base upon which all the other colors and textures of our lives are layered. And no matter how many layers we add—no matter how far life takes us—those first strokes remain. They’re vibrant, they’re everlasting, and they are what make the picture of our lives complete.

I can’t wait for the next reunion. Until then, I’ll cherish the memories, the laughter, and the timeless friendships that remind me where I came from—and who I really am.