Run up to the reunion-part one

The class of 85, the gilded clique captured in fifth grade!

Ajith, Bindu, Hari, Jayaram, Krishnakumar, Meena…no, this isn’t the roll call from the attendance register that I am so used to these days nor are they prospective Indian baby names but yes they are evergreen names of a family of nomenclature, that belong to the exclusive and elite club of the class of 1985 and can never become obsolete or archaic!

The hot pursuit to track down the elusive bunch began when Mark Zuckerberg gave to the world fB and while still in its nascent stage, a few of us became the guinea pigs for the social networking site to gain popularity and rake in the moolah. The witch hunt became an obsession and in the process, priceless buddies (along with graduation pictures and group photos) were unearthed, though their transformation matched the years that had gone by, the masquerades were given away by the demeanour, which is timeless and classic. Well, time can take away our youth, hair on the head, or it can be chivalrous by adding more wrinkles or deposit more fat instead of money in the bank account but it cannot snatch the exuberance and monkey business that are the hallmarks of this “Gilded Clique”, (for more adventures of this camarilla read the poem at http://www.sunitasriram.in/2014/07/joy-rubber-trees-testimony-to-etched.html) it is just appropriate that I express gratitude to the benefactor for this remarkable appellation that best describes us! Thank you Meena for this sobriquet and the chat room idea!

Barring a few bumping into on some sidekicks, mini reunions and reconnections, nothing spectacular happened on the fB front with many avoiding it like plague and couple of the social butterflies getting disillusioned by the like and dislike syndrome and beating a hasty retreat!

However, the inquest continues with technology making the man hunt easy and not ending up in wild goose chases or barking up the wrong trees! Leaving no stone unturned, all platforms and avenues are being explored, searched and many of the classmates smoked out of their hide outs after all we were the treasure hunters of yester years!

The excitement in the Whatsapp air is palpable along with the flattering fifth grade class photo , with the demonstration of bonhomie, love, affection, humming and buzzing of messages pulling each other’s legs to the point of myriad emojis popping up, typical of  a chat room! It has been thirty long years since we all parted ways from the class room, in search of higher education, job, career, love, partnership, marriage children, the normal, and the bizarre stuff of life…and the prospect of a reunion post three decades is one of ecstasy, (the sheer joy of nostalgia and a trip down memory lane, free of cost) tossed up withcuriosity, (how have all the bucktoothed, ponytailed metamorphosed or ‘transfigured’) trepidation (apprehension and paranoia at conversing face to face with companions and comrades who have eroded away with time, and I realize that chatting on the virtual space with friendly banters is much more easier) and Panic (would I be able to place the face?or will I fumble at the choice of words?)

As we spend the next few months contemplating on the logistics, the makeup, the attire and the hairdo, the distinct sound of glassware clinking, the warmth of the bear hugs and handshakes, unmistakable sound of laughter and banter, is reverberating in my space!