Tag: memories

Friends in Oblivion: A Reflection on Those Mad, Beautiful Years


They say friendships are the family we choose. But sometimes, life gives us friends we never knew we needed — and takes them away just as unexpectedly.

Between 2008 and 2012, I had a circle that was nothing short of electric. We weren’t just building businesses; we were building each other.

It was a phase of wild nights and wilder dreams. Knowledge collaboration in the day, partying hard at night, getting stoned over the weekends — we did things that today sound crazy and almost unbelievable. But that madness was our glue. It detoxed us from daily business stress, kept us alive, and taught us more than any MBA ever could.

But life, as always, had its own plans.

End of 2012, I got married. My father’s sudden hospitalization soon after shattered that rhythm. One by one, the circle started breaking — some had fallouts among themselves, some quit entrepreneurship, some got into serious personal crises, others moved abroad, and a few simply withdrew into their own worlds.

Then came COVID. Financial struggles and the survival grind tightened the last few threads. I got so entangled in rebuilding my life that those friendships, once my lifeline, drifted into oblivion.

Today, I look back and wonder: What were those friendships? Why did they feel so irreplaceable? Why do they hurt to remember?

What were they really?

Those were what I now understand as situational friendships — connections born out of a specific context, a shared madness, and a common dream. We didn’t become friends because of shared childhoods or family ties, but because we shared the same burning fire in that phase of life.

We were all entrepreneurs — each of us a little broken, a little foolish, yet unshakably hopeful. We learned from each other, fought with each other, and celebrated every tiny win like it was the end of the world.

Why do they fade?

Because life is not a constant. Priorities change. Marriage, kids, health crises, business failures, relocations — all these start pulling us in different directions. Some find new tribes, some retreat into personal solitude, and some get consumed by survival.

There’s no big betrayal or dramatic end — just a quiet drifting apart. A slow fade into silence.

Do I miss them?

Every day.

I miss the impulsive midnight drives, the heated debates that went from business models to philosophical rabbit holes, the sense of belonging to a gang that truly “got it.”

But I also know that those friendships, like beautiful old songs, belong to a time and place that can’t be recreated. They were chapters meant to end, lessons meant to be carried forward, not lived on repeat.

Some friendships are like rivers — they flow into your life, shape your shores, then find their way to the sea. You can’t hold them back, but you can always feel the shape they left on your soul.

A final whisper to that gang

Wherever you all are — running a new venture, teaching your kids to ride a bicycle in Canada, or quietly reflecting on those reckless days — I hope you feel the same warmth when you think of our nights in Adambakkam.

Some friendships are meant to be wild tides — crashing, roaring, unforgettable — before they dissolve into the larger sea of life.

From Sleepovers to Missed Calls: Growing Up and Growing Apart


We didn’t grow apart. Life just grew between us.

I come from an era when summer vacations meant stuffing myself with mangoes at cousins’ houses and fighting over who got to sleep next to the window.

Back then, we didn’t need fancy resorts or curated “experiences.” One friend’s terrace and a big steel tiffin box full of lemon rice did the job. We treated our friends’ parents like our own, and their mothers scolded us with such love and ownership, you’d think we came as part of the house package.

We finished our academics around 2000, all wide-eyed and curious about the future.

Some started with direct selling or handing out credit card applications in front of Saravana Stores — anything to avoid asking Appa for bus money.

By 2005, most of us had found jobs. From 2005 to 2012 (the year I got married), we were all busy “swiping right” in real life — running around for alliances, comparing horoscopes, and attending those awkward first meets where coffee tasted like tension.

Then came the kid marathon.
My second child was born in 2019. One of my best buddies, Vignesh, had his kid in 2020 — the final entry in our “Gen 1.0” batch.

Now, we’ve entered a new phase of life.
The same guys who once debated which cricket bat brand was best are now arguing about NEET coaching vs. coding classes.
We’ve moved from cycle races to chasing after school buses in the rain.

We want to hang out, but life says, “Sorry, today is fully booked with PTMs, grocery bills, and last-minute school project hunts.”

Last week, Vignesh came to India after ages. We managed just one hour together, squeezed between his kid’s nap schedule and my quick stop to buy vegetables.

I wanted to pour out my struggles, share my small wins, and dive deep into those “bro talks” that heal more than any medicine. But life had other plans and threw us back into separate lanes before we could even warm up.

We stay connected — thanks to Instagram stories and “Good morning” WhatsApp groups — but the emotional distance? That’s the new unspoken reality.

Looking back, it feels like life pressed the fast-forward button on us. We went from fighting over who would run up and twist the channel dial like we were defusing a bomb — to fighting over time slots in our own calendars.

Sometimes, I wish we could all pause. Sit on that same terrace again. No deadlines, no work calls, no worries about kids’ exams or cholesterol levels.

We grew up together, but somewhere along the way, life grew between us.

For all those born in 80’s!


Got this post from a friend and it really made sense… Wanted to share it…

We are the last generation that learnt to play in the street, we are the first who’ve played video games, see cartoons in color and went to amusement parks. We were the last to record songs of the radio on cassettes and we are the pioneers of Walkman’s and chat-rooms… We learned how to program VCR before anyone else, play with the Atari, Nintendo and believed that the Internet would be a free world all on a 56kbit modem… Traveled in cars without seat belts or air-bags & lived without cell phones… Rode our bicycles down the road without brakes… We never had phones but still kept in touch… We did not have Play stations, 99 television stations, flat screens, surround sound, mp3s, iPods, computers and broadband…

but never the less we had a GREAT Time…

I Want To Go Back To The Time


When INNOCENCE Was NATURAL,
Not FAKE.

When GETTING HIGH Meant On A SWING,
Not PROMOTIONS.

When DRINKING Meant RASNA ORANGE,
Not BEERS Or WHISKEYS.

When DAD Was The Only HERO,
Not DEPP Or TOM.

When LOVE Was MOM’S HUG,
Not The GIRL-FRIENDS’.

When DAD’S SHOULDER Was The HIGHEST PLACE On The Earth,
Not Your DESIGNATION.

When Your WORST ENEMIES Were Your SIBLINGS,
Not Your MANAGER.

When The Only Thing That Could HURT Were BLEEDING KNEES,
Not The TEARS Falling Down Your Cheeks.

When The Only Things BROKEN Were TOYS,
Not The DYING HEARTS.

And When GOOD-BYES Meant TILL TOMORROW,
Not For YEARS & YEARS.

Life Has Changed A Lot. And The People Too.
But The Thing Is That We Don’t Want To Accept It!

Home Alone


For the whole day I’ve been at home all alone. Yes no mom’s nagging, no travelling, no meetings and no friend’s visits. But was picking calls and was online so some office work is done. So what is special staying alone at home?

It means a lot time to; 

  • Think back and cherish the best moments in life.
  • Think back into horror moments and see how we overcame those situations.
  • Understanding our mistakes and thinking of solutions.

Over all got a good opportunity for self-realization.

Secondly staying alone means freedom. 

  • Got up very late.
  • Didn’t take bath till evening.
  • Had some grub by evening.
  • Then washed cloths @ 10 o clock in the night.
  • Staying awake without mom’s interference at 4 o clock in the morning and blogging.
  • Watching TV channels of my likes. No Airtel Super Singer or reality shows.

Whole day lived a life which was total indiscipline and been myself. Again back to business from tomorrow and let me close the day without knowing if I’ll get a chance again like this.

Signing off for now… Good Night…

4th Block memories


Today I took my mother and grandmother to Jaya Nagar 4th Block. This was a spot which we use to frequent almost everyday for shopping. Yes 12 years back when I first visited Bangalore my father took me to shopping to 4th block. For me everything looked different compared to Chennai. The language, the people, the culture and I really enjoyed the new place and culture. From then on I use to frequent this place when ever I’m in Bangalore.

Though 4th block had one-way traffic system even 12 years back but a lot of things changed other that that too. It was not this much crowded and one can see lots of retired old people gathering and talking with each other. The climate was even better than now. The bus stop was one the corner in an open space.

After the malls started occupying importance I stopped visiting this place from the year 2002 though I frequented to Bangalore.

Today the bus stop was changed into a commercial building. Traffic has gone really 10 fold more without exaggeration. I can’t see any old gentlemen.

Today it was really nice to walk down the memory lane. Walked through nook and corner of the place. I remember how I nagged my parents for all nonsense things (I feel them nonsense today), but which I thought of importance then, the I got on the platform shops, paw-bajji on cool joint, then juice and ice-creams.

Today I’m independent and can buy what I like but those were special day. But nagging parents to get something and cherishing the past is cherishing historical moments…