âPapa Roy! We have heard about your blog and Facebook posts!!â – that was how I was greeted by Natashaâs friends as I entered her dorm to pick her up and fly back to Atlanta after a five week summer course in NorthWestern School outside Chicago. I was, of course, taken a little aback. But soon I figured out that in my absence, Natasha had pretty much had her friends think of me as nothing if not a profuse blogger/Facebook poster. Even her instructors mentioned that they had heard about my Facebook posts. I mildly protested at times. The teachers were a little more generous. âWe think your daughter got her flair for writing from you. We hope she will pursue her dream of studying Journalism. How do you come up with your topics?â. I explained that I actually do not write any stories or abstract articles. I just write down what happens to me in my daily life. And that since I travel a lot I get a chance to meet a lot of people and write about them.
By the way, I also found out that Natasha had warned her friends severely that they were bound to get Facebook friend requests from me and they were to accept them only at the pain of death!
In any case, soon lunch time rolled in and many of the parents and students went to the school cafeteria to have lunch. I went there with Natasha and her room mate and as we settled down at the table, Natasha said âWait, Dad! I want to introduce you to Nikaâ. Turns out Nayanika – commonly referred to as Nika – had become big friends of Natasha and her room mate and that she wanted to meet me. In a few minutes she came in with somebody who I could only surmise to be Nika and her dad. All of us sat down for lunch. The girls being girls and this being their last day, they would often jump up from their table and go excitedly chat with some other friends.
During one such episode, Nikaâs dad and I were left by ourselves at the table. We started talking to each other and soon the following conversation happenedâŚ
Me: âI understand you folks are leaving for India tomorrow?â
He: âYes, we are going to visit my parents in Chandigarh and in laws in Delhiâ.
Me: âYou grew up in Chandigarh?â
He: âNot really – I spent most of my childhood years in Kolkataâ.
Me: âWhere in Kolkata?â
He: âA small suburb called Chandannagoreâ.
Me: âI see. And what was your dad doing in Chandannagore?â
He: âHe worked in a jute millâ.
Me: âReally? Which one?â
He: âDo you know that area? It was called Anglo Indian Jute Millâ.
I did some quick mental math in my mind and asked âWas Mr. Saxena the general manager then?â.
You could see the surprise in his face.
He: âHow do you know him?â
I was sure I was on to something. I asked âDid you know his son Navin?â
He – very very surprised – âThey were our next door neighborâ.
Me: âWell, Navin and I went to junior and senior years in high school together!!!!â
He: âIn Narendrapur?â
Me: âIn Narendrapur!â
He: âI have played many an evening with him and his brother!!â.
Me: âGuess what? In 1985, I have been to his house. The first time I ever entered a swimming pool or saw a tennis ground was in your club!! For all you know I have seen you beforeâ.
He: âAre you in touch with him?â
Me: âSure! I had dinner with him and his family in Portland a few months backâ.
Meanwhile, the kids were back and they were desperately trying to compute that these two gentlemen, as unlikely as it seemed might actually have seen each other in 1985 and now in 2015 have been brought together again thru fate and their daughters!! Natasha, of course had the usual âSee? What did I tell you? This is what he does!â.
Since that is what I do, I thought it might be worth doing some more. Now that I had figured out some connection with Gaurav (Nikaâs dad), I tried on her momâs side.
Me: âWhere is your wife from? Did she grow up in Delhi?â
He: âActually, she grew up in a place not too far from Kolkata. It is a steel town called Durgapurâ.
Me: âGet out of hereâ
He: âWhy? You know somebody there too?â
Me: âMy family is from there. I grew up there. What is her name?â
He: âAnu. Her full name is Anupama. Anupama Sharonâ
It was my turn to drop the jaw! I looked at Nika and could only exclaim âYou are Anupamaâs daughter?â
You could see the excitement in her eyes âYes. Do you know her too?â
Me: âEverybody knows your mom in Durgapur. She was a very talented girl in our age groupâ.
I turned to Gaurav and said â Anupama was a couple of years younger to me. But do mention my name to her brother Amit. We all went to the same school till tenth grade. Your wife and my wife grow up literally a stoneâs throw away from each other!!”
By this time, we were all shaking our heads in disbelief!
Natashaâs only comment was âThis is unrealâ.
And her roommate – who is a Korean from California had the best question ever – âIndia is not that small, right?â.
We all laughed out aloud.
How unreal is this really? A girl I knew from my hometown that I stayed till 1983 got married to somebody next door to my very close friend in a residential school from 1983-1985 (and very possibly we have been seen each other) and had a daughter who happened to be my daughterâs dorm mate for five weeks in a place just about half a world and over a quarter decade away? And all that tapestry was unraveled over a lunch table only because one of those daughters wanted to introduce her dad to her friend!!
That is absolutely as unreal as it gets. Even by my standards!!!
After all this, if any one of you dare complain that I blog or Facebook too much, you have another thing coming đ
