We descended upon this quaint little university town back in
1997 all set to pursue our degree in Hotel Management from a very prestigious
and reputed institute. 17 /18 year old boys and girls, with starry eyes and
defiance written all over our faces as if to say “come on world, throw what you’ve
got at us, we’re ready!!” We believed that success was as easy as apple pie. In
reality I think we were all just a bunch of bumbling teenagers still troubled
by acne, unsure of what to expect and actually shit scared.
But four years of hostel life can really change your
perception of what an apple pie is.
Hostel life can teach you a lot! As least I was definitely
benefited by it to a large extent. To cut a long story short I was no longer a ‘Bhenji’(For
those who are going to try and refute these, please compare my first year and
final pictures). The most important and biggest gift it gave us was the gift of
everlasting friendship. Yeah I’m going to get all soppy from here on. If you have leaky tear gland keep some tissues
at hand.
We didn’t find out best friends on day one. Not even in the
first year. Back then we never hung out with the same crowd for too long. The
heart is a fickle thing… our friends changed according to our moods. It was the mind
that was making rational choices. And out of the blue, friendships began to cement.
Sometimes really slowly and at other times at lightning pace. We bonded with some
over shared philosophies and with others over passion for books. Some alliances
were forged over a common dislike of someone and some over mutual admiration.
The prime reason, I suspect was because we were all equally crazy.
It wasn’t always smooth sailing and there were plenty of tiffs and misunderstandings
too. I guess relationships are meant to test themselves in many ways. But we
survived. At some point we probably realized that we weren’t together only for
the good tidings. It went beyond liking the same romantic movies or having similar tastes in clothes . We huddled around
Ouija boards and quarreled like siblings. We cried till they dried up and laughed till our sides ached. We talked till the wee hours of the
night, passionately debating over the economic affairs of our country, the appropriate
length for a mini skirt and the best cure for a hangover from smoking too much
weed. We shared our dreams, fears, hopes, clothes and sometimes when we felt
generous, even our food. We consoled each other on rough days and scolded each
other on stupid decisions. We nursed the broken hearts and reveled in the happiness
of new found love. We learnt the hard way and the easy way and along the way we
picked up skills in de-boning a fish, preparing the perfect Margarita and
serving with a smile.
At the end of four years we realized that life was in fact
as easy as apple pie as long as you baked the crust well, flavored the apples
correctly and managed that glossy brown finish.
After graduation, we all moved away to different cities and
countries making promises to keep in touch. We did, mostly through emails and
phone calls, mobiles were a very expensive proposition then. A couple of years
and our lives got busy as we picked up jobs and got sucked in to the rut of
daily routine, long working hours and deadlines to meet. We got busier when we
found our life partners and settled down. Procreating left us exhausted and with
no time to breath. It was all the hard work of one of the girls (love you Antz for doing this) who decided to get us all together using this very popular messenger app. She rallied
on till all 13 of us were on board, including the ones who were paranoid about using the social media!
We are all married now and most of us have kids and many of
us can dish out a really wicked apple pie too. The fine lines are sneaking their
way around the mouth and eyes. The day’s discussions surround around the
weather, food (this one takes up a major part of our days discussion), kids, household
chores, weight gain and our kids again. But it takes only an instant for all of
us to be those bumbling teenagers again. It still amazes me how easy it was to
pick up from where we left off, as if all the gaps in the years just melted
away. With all of us spread across countries the group remains active at all
times. I find myself waking up to a 100 pings which entails a detailed
conversation on the most inane subjects. There are daily reports on the antics of our children and
regular cribs about our husbands (this bit has helped us realize that we are
all pretty much sailing in the same boat)
This group is my
happy place. It’s like sipping on coffee in your favourite café and in the background
you can hear the strains of your favourite song. Often when I re-read our
conversations, I’m transported back to my hostel corridor and I can hear someone
call out to me to have some apple pie.
