Strangers in Strange Places

hat is it about alumni meets that transcends all geographies and timelines? We all believe we went to this great place and had a fun time in school/ college/ B-School/ Med School … you get the drift. Whenever we talk about our college days and college friends there is the entire piece of nostalgia that inevitably wipes off every piece of unpleasant reality during those golden days.  It will make me forget that I got bullied in school because I was fat (make that description present continuous) and got horrible grades. College and B-School were not different. Everyone still hated me. I had no friends. Yet why is it that when you bump into a classmate unexpectedly years later they all seem to treat you like a long lost cousin? Even the ones who were technically not your “friends”(if you know what I mean) behave like close friends leaving you surprised and perplexed.

I once remember bumping into Pingala Reddy my classmate from school. It was late evening and the freak snow storm had made it impossible for me to get a cab to the airport in that one horse town. When I reached the airport I was horribly late and had missed the last plane to civilization. The airlines staff was packing up to go home. I tried to explain to the fat bored woman at the counter how important it was for me to get that flight failing which the solution to global hunger was going to be delayed. Global hunger still remains an issue – and yes, I did miss my flight.

I turned back to see a fat and balding man in a trench-coat smiling at my agony.

“Abbey, what the hell are you doing here?”

“I am trying to board this flight and do you mind standing in queue and waiting for your turn?”

“I live here you moron.”

Well… I thought you are the one who lives here in the back of beyond. So how does that make ME a moron?

“Aren’t you Pingy… er… I mean aren’t you Pingala Reddy? I wouldn’t have recognized you. This is crazy. I am stuck here until tomorrow afternoon. Excuse me but I need to find a cab to take me to the hotel. This place has only 2 cabs I think and one has left.”

“You are wrong. Both have left. Just pick up your bags and come over to my home. My wife and kids would love to meet you.”

The choice was between spending the night at the airport or to stay with Pingy. I opted for the tougher choice. I hesitated simply because even though he had been my classmate in school, I had barely exchanged a few sentences during our twelve years together.

Pingy introduced me to his American wife Kathy and his son Josh who was into Baseball and wrestling!! When you have a snow storm brewing outside, being indoors next to the fireside is the closest to Heaven one can get. Fifteen minutes later Pingy and I were sharing a beer and chatting about our school days. It was an animated conversation. We talked about all the classmates we were in touch with. He was interesting company. Wonder why everyone disliked him so much in school. Even if he wanted to be, no one wanted to be known as Pingy’s friend. Even someone like me who had no friends (just because I was fat ) resisted the temptation of inviting Pingy to my birthday party. Eventually for want of a guest list, I had to stop celebrating my birthday.

When I jog my memory I just remember Pingy as the fat, rich kid who was inevitably given time off during music lessons. The music teacher had summoned enough courage to tell Pingy’s parents that there was not a single note out of the seven that he could ever sing. We laughed loudly as I narrated that incident when Suhail Akhtar brought a field mouse to school.

I discovered Supreet Madan was now an investment banker and that Sonny Rebello was a Chef at the New York Palace Hotel and that Mayank Kapoor had become a hotshot Civil Servant and was a part of the Prime Minister’s secretariat. Wow!! We were suitably inebriated when we finished talking about everyone in school and the cute girl Jasmine who everyone was in love with.

The next afternoon, Pingy dropped me off at the airport (he had taken a day off). Was he so friendly to me because he had no friends even there? I don’t know. Maybe I was just a paranoid fellow who would never have friends anywhere.

Were we more inclined to be kind to each other now that we were adults. Would the relationship have been the same if we were colleagues in the same firm? I wonder. Could it be that in strange places even strangers become friends?

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Originally published May 21, 2008