The last time you would have seen the three guys in this picture together was probably sometime in early 1994. That’s not just “a while ago” — that’s literally more than half our lives ago. Let that sink in for a moment while we all reach for our reading glasses.

Raj and I went to business school together, and then fate (and questionable corporate hiring decisions) put us in the same company for our first jobs. That’s where we met Srini. The three of us, along with a rotating cast of equally clueless and over-enthusiastic colleagues, lived in adjacent apartments in Mumbai – essentially our own version of a low-budget sitcom.

These two are remarkable in completely different ways. Take Raj, for instance. Back in the day, he casually declared that he would retire by 40. Naturally, the rest of us laughed and went back to worrying about month-end deadlines. But Raj? He actually did it. And not just retired — he’s gone on to live one of the richest, most grounded lives I know: always present for his parents, his kids, and everything that truly matters. If “living life on your own terms” had a brand ambassador, it would be him.

Srini and I, on the other hand, bonded over our shared love for writing software — because clearly, we were the cool ones. He went to IIT in my state, and I went to IIT in his. So naturally, our conversations were a delightful mess: some broken Bengali from him, some equally broken Tamil from me, and a whole lot of very passionate Informix 4GL thrown in for good measure. Honestly, it’s a miracle we understood each other at all.

Meeting again after all these years felt like no time had passed — and also like several lifetimes had. It was a magical morning, complete with us regaling the (very patient) better halves with stories from the good old days.

Stories like Raj dancing solo at Louis Kahn Plaza — as if the rest of the world didn’t exist — and Srini’s legendary “For here or to go?” moment at McDonald’s… which, trust me, deserves its own dedicated post someday.

But those are stories for another day.

P.S. Don’t I look like the paternal head in a family where the progeny has gathered around him to take, perhaps, one of those last pictures in his life? 🙂