I saw them as soon as I walked into the lobby of the hotel where we were meeting. They were too busy catching up to notice me. So I quietly took a picture of them, and shared it in our WhatsApp group before announcing my presence.

They jumped up on seeing me. Nah. Scratch that. At our age we don’t do the jumping up thing, only the sedate getting up, and that’s what they did too. Even before we had seated ourselves, the ribbing began. Some things never change, do they?

One of them noticed the thumb splint brace I had on in my left hand (for the painful osteoarthritis of the thumb joint that’s bothering me as of now) and remarked,

“What’s this? Domestic violence?!”

Before I could register and respond, or for that matter even laugh, he continued:

“You know something, Shail? In the northern parts of the country, they use the belan (rolling pin) on the husband. Don’t tell me you used your hands to beat him up!”

Even as I began laughing, the other one chipped in, correcting him.

“No, no, no! Don’t say that. Her husband is a military man, and he has rifles and guns. She wouldn’t dare!” And in an aside to me he asked, “Does he indeed have guns at home?”

Without giving me a chance to reply either way, he turned back to the first one and said:

“He’s a good man, you know, her husband. I have met him. A gentleman. So I’ll tell you what really must have happened to her hand. It was him caressing it with love that probably broke it, strong that he is.”

Now I was really laughing hard and not surprisingly, so were they. It was not over though.

“Shail has trained him well,” he continued, “he sits when she says sit and gets up when she says so. Yes, yes, yes. He is a very good man indeed!”

I rolled my eyes even as I laughed at their goodnatured jokes. These jokers hadn’t changed one bit. And this is exactly what happens when you meet your batchmates from long ago, forty-four years to be precise. We go back to being the youth we once were.

Anyway, it was a fun meet up. There was more talk (and laughter) over lunch. Stories from college/hostel days were recalled and shared. Each of the other twenty-two classmates from our post-graduation batch (Economics), fifteen boys and ten girls, were remembered.

Time flew, as it normally does during such occasions. Maybe we will meet again soon, and hopefully more of our batchmates will join in the next time around.

©️ Shail Mohan 2025