May 2010
A reunion with Loreto girls.
Wow, though I. It had been over 20 years since I met up with everyone.
It was to have been a rendezvous with three pals, then there were five, another one joined in and then another one. Finally on a hot May afternoon eight of us gathered for lunch.
It had (quite magnanimously) allowed the plump ones to keep their curves while taking away their self-consciousness.
It had turned jet black hair silver, while leaving quicksilver tongues untouched.
The young couple at the secluded table next to us beat a hasty retreat followed by barely concealed hoots from the rowdier ones, while the others tried unsuccessfully to shush them. Waiters hovered around trying in vain to get us to place an order. Who had time for food when we had a quarter century of tales to consume?
Looks came under the scanner first…
‘You so look the same..’
‘When did you get cholesterol deposits on your eyes?’
‘Why on earth don’t you colour your hair? I hate to be seen with an aunty.’
‘You were so thin in school, what happened?’
…. then the catching up….
‘You? A principal? Unbelievable.’
‘Your son’s 17, how lucky is that! I’m still struggling with my four-year-old twins.’
‘…92 pc in her boards…. Great.’
‘Do you still sing?’
‘An HoD? Can you actually tell off students?’
‘… dad’s real estate business? Woah!’
‘… in Jaipur? Wow great place.’
…. And the unending memories
25-year-old school gossip that still seemed so interesting — the scandals that seemed so huge back then, the shared punishments, the dreaded subjects.
As we relived them our school days seemed to come alive.
With promises to keep in touch and meet again we dispersed, each becoming a grown up again leaving behind our teens in the restaurant.