Asian College of Journalism – Swat of All Trades

It’s been a year since I passed out of ACJ. Three years since I passed out of MCC. Five years since I passed out of Jain. Seven years since I passed out of school (Carefully omitting the name).

I’m in touch with six people people from ACJ. Three people from MCC. Five people from Jain. Three people from school.

I’m not trying to do some graphical analysis of this.

Ok wait. Let’s do it. Let’s use some of the gyaan we got at ACJ, while studying New Media, shall we?

Clearly, it’s a highly inconclusive chart, made just to remind me that I still have all these multimedia and infographic skills. (Admit it, it’s pretty awesome!)

So my friends were texting me the other day, a few complaining about how I don’t keep in touch, a few complaining that they’re keeping in touch with people they don’t want to keep in touch with and a few keeping in touch with me in the process of texting me.

How hard can it be to keep in touch, really?

Well, REALLY hard.

I think unless you’re in a relationship and think of it as imperative to speak to your boyfriend/girlfriend, it’s going to be really difficult to get yourself to pick up that phone and text your friends or cousins.
I remember the first time I had an uncomfortable experience regarding this. It was back in school. I had a solid gang of friends, and we called ourselves the Spiral Squares (Yeah, we were 14). Varsha was one of them. She was pretty much a best friend, and we played computer games together, did “combined studies” together, listened to music-that-I-can’t-put-down-here together and sat together in class. It was in class 10 that I really got close to her.

On the last day of school, we were all just talking standing outside class, when Varsha actually said a formal goodbye, which I brushed off with a careless wave of my hand. She persisted, “No I mean it. Things aren’t going to be the same again.” Back then, I had felt awkward having to make such emo conversation. I was in denial and the talk drifted away into some other topic.

I realise only now how true that was. We have both grown into completely different individuals and rarely speak to each other, although we’d like to speak more often.

Even when I finished my course at ACJ, I was so confident that I’d keep in touch with Sanjana, my immediate roommate. Vishwadha and Disha were on the other side of the room, and hence not immediate. They were cousin-roommates. :P Anyway, I was always so surprised about how Sanjana ended up as my roommate, because we were SO similar and NO one else understood me in college as well as she did. She was the perfect room mate with whom I’d watch Game of Thrones, eat Maggi, heat water for bath, shop for fruits, share my secrets and talk all night. I was so confident that there was no way I’d be able to go even one day without talking to her and that I’d keep in touch. But after we parted ways, we have hardly spoken. Well, we do talk now, after reading something like this. Even if we’re busy with our own lives and even if both of us especially suck at keeping in touch, we push ourselves and talk to each other, share pictures and discuss our lives. Today also happens to be her birthday! (Wish her in your mind.)

Sanjana, this is the ONLY picture of just us together. Just saying.

Thank you Cynthia for this picture of Disha, Sana, Fishy and Me. It’s our second best picture. : P

This whole issue of keeping in touch has become so horrible, that I have forgotten I have friends living next door. I returned early from work this evening and wasn’t going out on any assignment or to meet any friends. I just sat at home, thinking “Oh God! What to do. I’m so bored.” I sat restlessly, watching my fish, did the dishes for a bit, and suddenly I remembered that my best friend, Uttara, lives next door. It was a shameful realisation. Years ago, we were rarely in our houses by ourselves. I was always in her house, or she, in mine. I remember when we were 3 and 5 years old, we’d step out of our houses and shout, “Ajji! Me Uttara cha ghari la zaaoo ka?” (Ajji! May I please go to Uttara’s house?) No, my grandma didn’t know Marathi, I’d ask her in Marathi anyway. In fact, I learnt Marathi only to speak to Uttara when she was a baby, because she couldn’t speak English yet. It was just a thing we did. We weren’t really asking for permission. Now, it’s like our parents have to push us into each other’s houses. Occasionally, I go to my balcony and she comes out, (we can shake hands from across our buildings on the first floor. That’s how close we live) and we chat away into the night until we go inside and sleep, go to work the next day and remember to greet each other a month later.

People I grew up with. It's just horrible that I don't have a picture with Uttara! This is Adit, Uttara, Pranju, Prerana, Me. None of us really look like that anymore. — People I grew up with. It’s just horrible that I don’t have a picture with Uttara! This is Adit, Uttara, Pranju, Prerana, Me. None of us really look like that anymore.

Even Supriya for that matter! The whole world knows we’re best friends. Anytime I meet someone from school, they have to ask me “How’s Supriya doing?” Be it a teacher, or a classmate. But we rarely speak. When she called me up on her birthday from UK on June 6, it was the second time we were hearing each other’s voices in a year! You know, we’re the kind of friends whose voices grew to sound exactly like each other’s. No one can differentiate our voices over the phone.

Supriya and me. One of the few pictures of just us together.

We’re all stuck in our own tiny worlds, our own minds, always thinking about the moment. I’m not calling anyone selfish. It’s the most normal thing to not keep in touch, because you know, that when that friend is with you, everything will be as normal as ever. That’s the liberty you have with such close friends I suppose. You know that nothing will ever change.

I know that if I meet Sanjana, we’ll talk like we knew each other all our lives again, although we really have known each other for just two years. I know that if I meet Osama, I’m going to speak to her exactly like I did when we were ten and eight years old. I know if I meet Supriya, we’ll watch Princess Diaries, eat some pasta and go out for an orange candy walk, like nothing has every changed, although our lives our changing every minute.

On Tuesday, Priyam is coming to Bangalore, which means the rekindling of the MCC friendship. I’m really looking forward to it, because with every set of friends you have a different discussion, which you need to have from time to time.