The Evening of Friday the Thirteenth

"The jealous stars will watch us walking..."

-Paulo Coelho

The weather changes the moment one enters the gates. Now sleek, horizontal, and soundless, these were not like the tall, imposing and creaky designs of a faded grandeur which are etched in the memory like a color that refuses to fade. The stone slab of a seat on the right has disappeared and the guard house on the left is a big structure with bright lights and several stern faces looking out silently. There is also a visitor's car park on the right, where, till a few years ago, there would be a crowd of trees standing close together.

Evening is a somber time at TISS. The trees are holding on to the last rays of sunlight and the shadows on the ground are getting mellower. Silence slowly envelopes the wide pathway, and spreads to the empty corridors on the right. Several permanent posters on the seventy-five glorious years stand solemnly, speaking a story if one cares to read.  

As if on cue, i get two text messages, asking me if i have reached and if yes, i should wait at the main foyer. I walk toward the place which has been witness to some of the happiest moments of my youth. The waiting for the first round of exams, the anticipation of being called for an interview, the list with the two names i was praying would be seen together, the burst of relief and joy at the realization that one was staying here after all, the many phone calls, the proud moment when the first student seminar was organized and the reception desk was put up, the time when the foyer would become a stage and the view which made for a rare happiness that is felt when one finds an old and favorite piece of clothing that still fits...

The past and the present mingle and catch me feeling joy and nostalgia at the same time...even as i half wonder if i am still twenty and the bell would ring soon, shaking me out of my reverie..

A bell did ring in the distance, but it was a faraway cell-phone. I am glad to see Prasad walk toward me. He hasn't changed a bit, the few grey strands notwithstanding. We sit on the stone steps as we wait for Archana to come, and catch up on the months gone by. Several students walk past, lost in their own world, laughing, and speaking excitedly about something. It feels peaceful to just be there, taking in the silence and the dusk.

Archana comes up in a few minutes, and looks at us with her usual, twinkle-eyed bright smile. The sudden feeling of delight when one sets eyes on a well-loved face is hard to describe. Suddenly we are speechless. So many years between us and nothing to say? It was perhaps the fullness of such a moment that made words redundant.

We decide to walk over to the canteen, noticing the many changes that have been made around the campus. While the main buildings are the same, with a few new departments, the green carpet of the grass inside of the quadrangle remains frozen in time. The STD-PCO booth that we had envied when we came here for the alumni meet in 2007 was also shifted further back, and now looks like a desolate and withered, limbless tree. Five years ago seems suddenly a long time. 

There aren't many students around. Vacation time silence abounds. We sit on the sparkling new steel chairs which make their presence felt by the jarring sounds they make everytime you move them. Poha, and a samosa (which is filled with a gourmet maharashtrian style turmeric-free potato vegetable and microwaved to softness) washed down with a cup of tea feel like the perfect, if somewhat mellow accompaniments to a conversation that spans two decades, going back and forth like a pendulum as we update ourselves on what each of us has been doing since we last met and also which other classmates we are in touch with or met recently. 

We ask each other direct questions and openly express concern about what is going on in each others' lives. Clarifications, fill-in-the-blanks, updates on children, worries of teenage parenting, alternate place with reminisces of the good times spent in the very place which hosts us now. The Dining Hall and the usual places look the same. The hostels and the new buildings take some time to become acclimatized to. I wonder if spaces and persons and memories mingle to create an energy that illuminates some dark corners of our insides, which are awaiting its light. 

The conversation is easy and comforting, the affection flowing, and the attention to each other's words unwavering. The range of the conversation is expansive- the recall of dear ones who now are met only by chance and not circumstance, the subtle pain when speaking of those who are no more with us, the struggles that the past years have presented us with and the mystery of this life that we have had the fortune of traversing through without losing touch with each other, made for a heady combination of solemnity and fondness. Time had become a fluid entity, and it appeared as though we were holding each other with invisible hands that made the ride seem smooth, despite its very obstacle ridden nature.

The evening turns to night and we are the only ones left sitting at the table. No one gives a second look and we feel like we belong here, just as much as we belonged here exactly twenty years ago. 

Someone we waited for, cannot make it, and someone who is on her way has gotten delayed. Cell phone rings and text message beeps become the reminders of the other reality. The distances to our destinations are long, the need to go back to our respective worlds is imminent, and of course non-negotiable.

As though it was a way to make up for those who could not make it, we see Brinelle, who is walking back to her home in the campus, after working long hours. A warmth filled the air, even as we refused her kind invitation to visit her home. Some  other time, we say, and some other time soon, we hope..

The goodbyes are as easy and comfortable as the hellos. The promise of seeing each other is interwoven in the easy laughter and joie-de-vivre. No formal words signifying parting are exchanged, as if there were no need for them. The confidence that we are connected and the positivity that spreads itself just by the knowledge of each other's presence is enough.

Some blessings are woven into the fabric of our life. They appear in a tangible form sometimes, just to remind us that the best that the world has to offer is right here, right now, and can never be taken away.