🌸 The 80s – When Life Was Simple and Hearts Were Fuller
In the 80s, life was uncomplicated — slow, steady, and beautifully predictable.
When the light went off, we didn’t sigh — we played word-building.
No Wi-Fi, no gadgets — just imagination and laughter echoing through dark rooms.
We proudly called it constructive play long before that became a fancy phrase.
Our school tiffins were filled with poha or upma, warm and fragrant inside steel boxes that held more love than food.
Mothers always packed a little extra — “for your friends.”
Because friendship wasn’t about selfies or posts; it was about sharing your tiffin.
Combined studies were the best kind of group projects — at someone’s home or on the common terrace under dim tube lights.
We’d bet on which questions would appear in the exam.
Some guesses hit, some didn’t, but the snacks never disappointed.
Birthdays were community events.
We’d all chip in coins to buy one greeting card that proudly said “From All of Us.”
The gifts were small but chosen with heart — often that one thing the birthday kid had secretly been wishing for.
We had fights, of course.
But reconciliation was easy.
We didn’t know the word ego — we only knew letting go.
Evenings were noisy in the best way — calling out each other’s names till someone shouted back.
We made our own games, our own rules, our own fun.
Those were the innocent days — when the world was smaller, but hearts were so much bigger.
📺 The 90s – When Change Slowly Slipped In
Then came the 90s.
Cable TV arrived, and suddenly, life had more colours — and a few more comparisons.
Some families became more comfortable, some stayed the same.
Where once every home looked and felt alike, small differences began to show.
The group that once played together started forming smaller circles.
Conversations changed; priorities shifted.
Yet, deep down, the bond was still there — just buried under teenage pride and growing awareness.
There were more channels, more shows, and fewer common topics.
The innocence began to fade quietly — like the sound of the Doordarshan signature tune disappearing into static.
💻 The 2000s – The Millennial Drift
Then came the millennium — the great scatter.
We finished studies, took up jobs, and moved to different cities.
Some got married early, some later — each walking their own path, building their own lives.
Drifting wasn’t intentional; it just happened.
Careers took over, responsibilities grew, and time flew faster than we could catch it.
WhatsApp groups replaced street calls.
“Happy Birthday” messages arrived with confetti emojis.
Once-a-year meetups became our new version of togetherness.
And yet, every reunion carried that same old warmth — one hug, one laugh, and we were kids again.
🕰️ The Present – When Nostalgia Heals
And now… here we are.
The body has started sending reminders of time passing.
Some of us have grown bigger, some older, some stronger — all a little more fragile inside.
Mornings begin with pills instead of plans.
We juggle grown-up kids, demanding jobs, and the quiet ache of memories.
But every now and then, a photo, a name, or the smell of upma brings it all rushing back —
those golden years of friendship.
I wish those days would return — when we could just step out, shout a name, and friends would appear within minutes.
When one person’s problem became everyone’s problem.
When we’d say “Hum sab milke dekh lenge” — and actually mean it.
When nothing was “mine,” but everything was ours.
Those were the friendships that built us — simple, loyal, and pure.
I wish to live that once again — those carefree days without burden on the shoulders or stress in the head.
Back then, we had no pills to take — just hope, laughter, and boundless energy.
Sometimes, I still wish I could call out those names again —
tear my lungs out like before — and hear those familiar voices call back.
This one’s specially dedicated to all my friends.
I won’t take names — because once you read this, you’ll know it’s you.
And maybe, just maybe, you’ll be compelled to write back.
Miss you all. Always. 🥺
Somewhere between growing up and growing apart, we lost the sound of those carefree laughs echoing down familiar lanes.
But on quiet evenings, when life slows down for a moment, I still hear them — faint, warm, and close enough to touch.
Maybe that’s what true friendship is… it never really leaves; it just hides in the corners of time, waiting to be felt again.
Blessmesai 