Chicken soup for the larger than before in-sole.

I have always felt a little awkward with reunions myself, it may be the rampant almost obligatory judgment, “ Have you seen his hair-cut!!?? Do you think!?”, “Ofcourse !! Have you seen the colour of his socks!!”, “Aha! So now we know what happened at those after school play practice sessions! *wink*”.
But, mostly I am nervous, I will be reminded, how much I have changed since way back then.
I think I am more or less happy with where I am right now in my life, sure I have regrets and insecurities, but they don’t bother me enough to want to take refuge in the “good times”. Wouldn’t you say “Catching up on old times” is sort of a "mid-life crisis-esque" thing say.
Old lonely men losing a battle with their youth and all its associated charms, making desperate attempts to relive days where getting dressed didn't include "tucking in" attire to camouflage a healthy potbelly. Being hot didn't involve measures against rheumatoid arthritis and where ones personal philosophy on phlegm management was not available for public distribution.

But, nostalgia is the binding purpose.
I must admit most childhood memories are a lot of fun to regurgitate, especially when you have people that were there to share it with you.
And more so than not, childhood memories are always pure, and carry with them a charm and romance that makes them so attractive after all these many years.

I recently met an old friend of mine, we were best friends all through middle school, we hung out all the time in our early teens, we discussed matters of paramount importance to early teens… we conducted path finding research on small insects, leaf extracts, ourselves … we worked out the dynamics of stunt bi-cycle riding and consequentially the statics of multiple fractures. …
You know…. all the stuff that makes you ready to be 18.

I might have spoken to him a sum total of 4 times after that.

I agree that being perfectly happy with your current phase in life does not preclude the need to find comfort, solace and joy in times past.
And as you would expect, both of us immediately burst into discourse fuelled by memories that we share.
We discussed every one of them in great detail, and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. But, I could not for the life of me find anything new that we could connect with. In all the fun we were having we had unwittingly reverted to a 14 year old version of our selves, and it is only this version that seemed to fit.
As adults we seem to have grown into rather disparate people. I kept wondering and am quite sure he did too, whether we would be friends if we met now for the first time.
It is a bit like old pants, for a while they felt like they were a part of you. You grew together, hosted microorganisms together, but then comes a day a couple of years in the bottom of the closet shelf later, when they aren’t quite "you" anymore. (Their waist dimension may be even less “you” but that is beside the point.)

People change, pantaloons don't.

People change, old friends do too, but old friendships don't, especially when shelved for a while.
They remain in a state of suspended animation for all that time, waiting to re-establish them selves from where they left off. They on occasion feel awkward, just like the inner thigh region of my two-year-old corduroy jeans.

I do admit some childhood friendships are ridiculously hard to live without. And become a physiological requirement almost, as one grows older.
Maybe I should narrow the field a little bit. Just to neuter the "we became best friends in 4th grade and have been inseparable ever since" police.
So, take a bunch of friends that you had lunch with, with moderate regularity all through school. And with whom you on the last day of school, walked to the sanctified "lunch spot" sat in a circle and pledged everlasting allegiance to, but then realised the next day, the logistical night mare in managing a bond for evermore with someone, when you didn’t know their address, home phone number or for that matter even if they had a home or a phone.
This may be a bit of an antediluvian dilemma for kids today.
But, you must remember when I was in school a CC: was still a waxy, blue facsimile of the original, that came with an acrid smell like someone toasted a badminton racquet on a paraffin candle. And depended on a stringy old peon handing out, "Kaourban seet" to us lazy oafs that didn’t have the assiduousness to pen all the halogen reactions to benzene in triplicate.

It sort of hits you when you are sitting down at your desk a week later, with a blank fool-scap sheet, torn in half, supposedly to write that letter. You feel the rapid cold of depleting permanence when you realise that about the only thing you remember of a permanent nature is maybe that his mom made super awesome, alloo gobi and that he owns a He-man action figure with battle-cat attachment.

But, isn't what makes childhood friendships so beautiful; it's all-too-epochal nature. When you are a kid, you could make a friend based resolutely on the fact that he has all the GI Joes you do not and once you realize that you both own white BSA champs, you know you are friends for life.

It is only when you are adults that, you factor in stuff in ridiculous detail, including possibly their take on Iraq and the colour Burgundy.


So whether friendships are as dynamic as the definition of oneself or are tenacious and immutable, or both.

I am glad I met Sundip after all these years. I am also glad that I made all the friends I did the last year. You guys mean the world to me. It feels good to have a closet full of really awesome pants! You guys really are……fly!

Peace and a happy new year!