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Spice of Life | Unwrapping memories as nostalgia comes calling
The highlight of the night? My younger one got a crash course on her dad’s glorious escapades. By the end, her expressions were priceless, ranging from “Seriously?” to “Wait, that’s dad!”.
Recently, I found myself attending two celebrations: A dinner in Kasauli for one of my husband’s bachelorhood buddies hitting a milestone birthday, and a lunch marking 50 years of one of my father’s colleague’s marriage. The common takeaway? When old friends reunite, it’s like time hitting the snooze button. A quote I stumbled upon captures the magic of such moments: “You’ve both grown and changed, but the moment you start talking, the years melt away.”
After the party in Kasauli wound down, the core group of friends slipped into their natural habitat: The late-night storytelling circle. As I looked around at this eclectic mix of night owls, I couldn’t help but wonder how we’d all become so deeply woven into each other’s lives. These were my husband’s school and college comrades, and like the other wives present, I’d inherited them along with the marriage vows. But now, they weren’t just his friends, they were family.
These were the keepers of his most cringeworthy secrets and teenage antics, and boy, did they deliver! One story after another spilled out, like vintage wine, full of flavour and devoid of bitterness. It was all love, laughter, and a collective longing for the uncomplicated days of yore.
The highlight of the night? My younger one got a crash course on her dad’s glorious escapades. By the end, her expressions were priceless, ranging from “Seriously?” to “Wait, that’s dad!”.
The next day found us in Chandigarh as we joined the golden jubilee wedding anniversary celebration of my late father’s colleague and friend. It hit me then how, despite my father passing away 16 years ago, his friends have somehow kept me on their radar, inviting me to family events and ensuring that kinship wasn’t just a thing of the past. With this family, the connection ran deep for he was not only my father’s colleague and friend but also our neighbour and my teacher during my eleventh and twelfth grades.
The warmth and love I received at the gathering exceeded all expectations. When I hugged uncle, it felt like I was embracing my father, and in that moment, the years in between seemed to fold away, leaving us in a timeless bubble of shared memories.
As the afternoon unfolded, we swapped stories of the good old days, sharing winter meals in the sun, celebrating triumphs, and consoling one another during life’s low points. One memory flashed vividly: 25 years ago, at their silver jubilee in their backyard, I had congratulated the couple by crooning a song as a newlywed. The nostalgia was irresistible, and before I knew it, I was reprising a few lines of the song.
As we’ve entered 2025, I can’t shake off the feeling that time is zipping away on its proverbial winged chariot. But here’s the twist, these two encounters made me realise that time isn’t running off anywhere. Like a cheeky kid playing hide-and-seek, it’ll pop out from behind the door in some future moment, grinning mischievously to remind me of these golden days. So, I’ve decided to outsmart it. I’m wrapping these memories in the finest gossamer sheets, tucking them away for safekeeping, ready to unwrap and savour them whenever nostalgia comes calling.
The writer is an associate professor at SD College, Ambala Cantt, and can be reached at sonrok15@gmail.com
