Today was one of those unexpectedly perfect days. I finally met Ajith after 13 long years. Honestly, I don’t even know how these years flew by — it felt like we were still on that Bangalore drive, debating random life topics and making a pit stop at midnight in McDonald’s Sulagiri.
Ajith took the initiative to set this up (big thanks, buddy!), and he also introduced me to TAKKT Southern Cafe & Kombucha. What a fun, happening place right in our own backyard! The kombucha? Absolutely fantastic — like a refreshing plot twist in a boring daily routine.
It felt nice to see that he has also given up a few things in life, just like I did. Maybe that’s why old friends feel special — they remind you of who you were and show parts of yourself you might have forgotten.
We covered everything today: work stories, personal struggles and joys from these 13 years, a little astrology (yes, Saturn in the 8th house still keeping life spicy), and plenty of those “just because” stories that have no start or end.
Thank you again, Ajith, for pulling me out and for the kombucha initiation. Let’s make sure we don’t wait another 13 years — next time, maybe a road trip, or even better, some divine temple trail to balance all this cosmic karma.
Tag: old friends
From Sleepovers to Missed Calls: Growing Up and Growing Apart
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.
AnandNataraj 