Joy that glows.

It's about two hours to my 24th birthday, every year, as 13th August evening tucks itself into a midnight decked with wishes, I do a year rewind where I reflect on the blessings, lessons, best moments, the strength that peaked and the light that peeked out during the valleys. This year unfolded with absolute magic. The yearly reflection unpacked itself into a reflection of my entire life’s journey so far. The universe spontaneously pulled me back to school, with two of my school best friends and I had the most favourite walk of my life. To a place I've loved so deeply for 18 years.

A Tuesday. 

A rainy day in Bangalore and three friends walk into a cafe in winter clothes. Mostly sweatshirts or cute sweaters that hug your body and keep you warm with the incessant switching between downpour and drizzles outside.

It was a sage green cafe with a kind owner who not just tolerated but quietly encouraged our loud conversations and laughter.

As we sat at a Mexican cafe having the most appetizing food- creamy alfredo pasta, stir fried veggies and a killer mushroom sandwich packed with flavour with a side of overly sweet boba tea.

Suddenly mid meal, I said; Guys, we must go to school sometime.

They said, Yeahhh. We must.

Without thinking, I asked Should we go now???

And they just instantly agreed. This cafe was close to school. So after a savoured lunch, we started walking to the place that has quite literally shaped us and our alter egos. 

There was a fawn coloured dog that somehow befriended us, kept following us as we yapped and we were freaked out for most parts by this following. But I did try to zoom out and see what connection this dog and I could have.

Because he seemed to just walk when we did and pause when we didn't. At one point, he walked ahead, almost as if leading us and stopped and looked back when he found us pausing midway.

It was a strange experience, first time with a dog, where I was being spoken to by an animal in gestures and movements.

This dog got into a fight with many other unruly ones on the street and expected protection from us.

I didn't know how to protect.

I didn't know how to fight four angry stray dogs.

I just prayed and asked the universe to take care of him and walked fast for my own safety.

But that dog had a red collar and please forgive me eyes.

It just left a paw print on my heart like a silent film-without even barking, just eye contact and head turns and walks like I were his old pet parent.

We stepped into school. And this time, we did it with ease.

Last time I came here with Esha, Harsh and Arun, they didn't let us. Us being us, we tried to jump the compound and were caught for trespassing XD, only to be saved by our old coach Ullas sir from school.

This time, I futurepaced walking in with ease, without being stopped.

I told let’s just walk in like you live here in the quarters or something,

Srusht got a call right at that moment.  Shivani and I walked like we owned the place, the watchman took a step ahead, looked at us with mild suspicion and then just didn't do anything about it. We walked in, like three Autumn leaves flowing along with the breeze.

We first went to the main gate where we met an old teacher. It was past school time so most teachers were out of school, and moreover the teachers who taught us had retired and were quite literally out of school.

This particular teacher, Tajinder ma'am gazed at us like she was in a history museum refreshing her memory and said, the three of you were our students right.

Shakal toh waisa hi hai lekin thode bade ho gaye sab

This teacher would carry a small silver sword with a case tied to her hip as part of her Punjabi tradition.

She was fierce and really daunting at some instances but now she had softened as if her heart was more accessible to the world. I realised how time caresses people and brings out their vulnerability inevitably.

We went in and took a deep breath in that large open centred pentagon around which classes sat with welcoming doors. This open space was the lung of our school, blanketed with 5 large gardens and many many trees. One that held a thousand memories of morning assemblies and us running around during lunch breaks.

It was so life-giving. The mere memories and that place filled us with sunlight on a supremely rainy day.

We started that journey by going into our first grade classroom. Tiny benches that hold space for five year olds, I was fascinated by my own journey of how I am working with five year olds-helping them find their voice as a public speaking mentor now. Wow. What a whiff of nostalgia it was. 

I used to sit on these benches and wait to see old students walking in to meet Nasreen ma'am, it would be so exciting to watch her break into a smile that would usually not grace the class while she taught. She would be so happy to see what they'd grown into and we as kids, also loved knowing the little snippets that followed after they left. She would share about them in a line or two like an aftertaste of her favourite candy and promptly get back to the class-work.

This time, I was the old student walking back into that very classroom; but Nasreen ma’am wasn't there nor the little new students. A quiet solitude with an extremely familiar energy, as if my inner child and its core joyful memories still lived there. I instantly felt connected to the walls, floors and the desks and felt magnetic to walk through every classroom that had held us through ten years.

We walked through the second standard, third , fourth and fifth. The end of primary school and every class brought out waves of memories wrapping and unwrapping our hearts. Switching between cozy and vulnerable as we walked through a sea of gushing memories that had built us.

We then climbed the iconic centre stair that led to the library on one end and our favourite classrooms on the other. One by one, we started stepping into the secondary classrooms as well.

Sixth grade felt so alive in my heart. Of having two best friends , a shared pen stand made out of connector sketchpens, Shirin’s schezwan fried rice, a band called super troopers and a boy who joined as a new admission who never failed to make us laugh.

Seventh grade pulled me back to Starplus Mahabharath and how much I loved Krishna, how this show alone had carried me through my first hint at being super sad or depressed with faint bullying that left heavy impressions.

Eighth D. The one where I'd been crazy with teenage hormones, taking signatures of a specific senior on teacher’s day and having a magnanimous crush on him. A crush that I had admitted very openly lovingly back in the day and now, we sat in that 8th D classroom, Just talking our hearts out for almost an hour. To be sitting there, in that very classroom with not many changes in benches or seating arrangement even after 8 years felt so surreal. Yes, they now had digital boards but somehow the essence of a KV classroom lingered around like my favourite scent.

We talked about how we were the elite group of class throughout school, which I still believe we are- no matter where we go. It was definitely not the looks or language, it was the energy. It was the fact that all of us were dreamers, who dreamt to be brilliant-legendary; and I know it in my being that it's already unfolding. This group of friends were like a masterpiece in an art school, one that could be sold for billions, but is kept treasured safe and never traded. 

In the ninth grade classroom, we reminisced a lot of shuffling energy. Tattered stories came to me of how Vaish was shifted to the very last bench with a new admission. 

New admissions have been drastic for me. One left my inner child so happy and laughing. One left me possessive of my school because she behaved like she owned the school. One left me smiling super wide by somehow entering glimpses of my dream before arrival. And this one, the last one; seemingly snatched my best friend away.

And that was yet again a memory of being replaced where my belief was getting stronger and stronger that I held onto this fear like a piercing sword and possessiveness like a shield.

Tenth grade swished out memories of being rooted, grounded- away from the main group, with Srusht; quite literally by sitting on the most thick root of a tree that forms a sort of bench at the helm of our acre sized ground while they were all at youth parliament practice for months.

We spoke about the different dances through the decade, the iconic classmates with the most peculiar stories, best teachers and laid our hearts open with memories blanketing them softly under glowing lights.

Then. We walked to my most favourite place in school. It started pouring, so we opened two umbrellas shared by three and reached the primary stage that hosted so many of our dance practices.

The view from here is too precious to my heart. And I'll tell you why.

In one of my self-work workshops years ago-  Nine nights of the goddess, we were tapping into emotions like joy and love. I was asked to think of the most favourite core memory that brings most joy to my inner child. And this imagery came to me.

A beautiful open space with lots of trees forming a forest green roof, dual colours pavers on the floor and five large rings formed by tiny children. Five sections sitting in hoops on the ground, in first grade. The community lunch. An event I would always wait for, every child had to bring their celebrated regional food and that day, lunch would be served on plates with everyone sharing what they've got. We were introduced to potluck when we were five and the very act of sitting under massive green trees shade, eating food from all over the country with my first friends is my most joyful memory of all time. It makes my heart glow like there is a bioluminescent beach in my heart.

And that day, I was back again, at the very same space.

As we sat on stage that faced this area, it poured like the clouds were bursting into uncontrollable peals of laughter.

It rained and rained and rained , it rained so heavily like abundance pouring to turn a courtyard into a serene lake.

Shivani, Srusht and I sat on stage, sheltered and yet there too, it rained and rained and rained- conversations like stories pouring into heart shaped cups.

My heart was genuinely so full. To sit in a place that translates as glowing joy to my inner child, with my two best friends from school, talking about everything this place had left us with and beyond, I genuinely lived a dream full of wonder.

I’ve been best friends with nostalgia. I hoard things from decades ago, I carry little memories in journals, ID cards, tickets, bands and souvenirs of my own life from each year, I have books and bookshelves full of memories. I'd always wished to go back to school and reminisce with these two, and the fact that it unfolded this way, one evening before my birthday created such a beautiful walkway to turning 24.

After the rain settled into earth with rising petrichor, we decided to walk out as darkness had started to befriend the streets.

We tried booking autos for about 30 minutes, no luck. This would be a problem even during annual days or major events when we would have to go back home at night. That moment, holding umbrellas hoping to find an auto made me feel something. It felt like everything had changed from the moment we walked out of school 8 years ago and yet nothing had.

I suggested that we walk it up till Openhouse as she had to head to the bus stop and I had a teachers get together and dinner at work.

As Srusht and I walked, she told me that she wanted to invite me home and make mushrooms for lunch. That was such a beautiful simple thought and it made me feel so anchored in love and how a friend I grew up with connects to my current version even after decades. She resonates with ambition, taking leaps, self-love and returning to your quietude, and I love that there is this resonance between us.

The entire journey of classroom to classroom, gracing every stair, library, favourite spots felt like meeting every single version of Vajj who has lived life, felt pain, felt freedom and always chosen the best for herself by showing up, through expression of her heart. 

In every classroom, I met unique versions.

I met the little girl who always found greatest joy in good friends, food and conversations under trees even at five years old.

I met the little girl who’s been super mischievous by pulling pranks with her best friend and laughed till her heart was in glee. She still carries the same laughter- and only gets drunk on laughter.

I met the little girl who has bossed around as the class prefect, roller skating on power. I also met the girl who was bullied back 3 years later as the universe always gives you a mirror of you. She understood and embraced karma.

I met the little girl who exchanged kimia dates for the ones from Mecca with her best friend to resolve a fight on their way to a blind school as a field trip. Amused how she knew exchange and presence of love is the doorway to forgiveness.

I met the little girl who was a pool of sadness and anger, at her class teacher for not choosing her as the house captain only to find out she was chosen as the cultural captain for all of primary school. When the universe doesn't give you what you want, it always has something greater.

I met the girl who first started journaling, writing every day like a chapter of her life. The girl who is very much in love with her first characters that made her feel life so deeply that she wanted to write it all down.

I met the girl who confronted what was making her uneasy for a whole year and flipped her narrative around, befriended that very friend with love. 

I met the girl who let herself experience the joy of having crushes to the fullest. I met a girl who was so at home in silliness and being a little crazy and smiling stupidly.

I met a girl who danced and whirled and twirled her way around high school and taking long walks with her best friend creating fictional stories after practice and yet aced every test with ease.

I met a girl who heard her heart break in an old friendship, she tasted distance, indifference and discovered solitude for the first time and took sips of it like it grew on her. The very beginning of her self discovery work.

That little girl has had a thousand expansive journeys after 10th grade, but to walk through these formative memories again felt like holding onto something that was quietly fading in wisps. Witnessing that space, my roots, living it all again mentally felt like giving it colour, anchor and making space for it in my current palace of meanings. I experienced a decade of joy in one evening with this spontaneity and that was my best gift for myself.

We walked back from school. On a rainy street, under umbrellas of memories, we headed in two directions. 

That evening, a few hours before my birthday, as I sat on the beautiful terrace of my workplace, it felt like a complete arc to the present moment. Vajj then, Vajj now. And Vajj, stepping into a new year of growth; holding space ever so gently - for the most radiant future version to emerge.

What mirrored all those versions and now, is love. Love for dreams, conversations, dancing to my whims, to constantly evolve, to laugh loudly, to pursue brilliance, and the art of loving- so fiercely, so deeply, immeasurably like a bioluminescent beach in my heart. 

And I will let that love guide me for every journey, person and dream that’s choosing me.

Happy Birthday Vajju.