Hmmm...

After so many years, Natraj took the pain of finding each one from his intermediate batch and created a WhatsApp group. The group was buzzing from day one. “Hey, where are you now?” “Still in Delhi.” “Wow, after 34 years, can’t believe I’m talking to you again.” Everyone wanted to know how their classmates were doing. Each time a new person joined, the group would light up. There was teasing, laughter, old incidents shared, and plenty of photos from the past. Slowly the group grew to around 120 people. Then Pinky from Mumbai suggested, “This is our 35th year of passing. Why don’t we all meet up for a reunion?” The group went wild. “Yes, let’s do it.” “I’m in.” “June is perfect.” People started posting pictures of their tickets. “NZ confirmed!” “Canada done!” “South Africa booking.” The Hyderabad friends took the responsibility of hosting. Close to 100 people showed up. Laughter, music, drinks, dance — it felt like college all over again. No one looked like they were 50 plus. By evening...

Today is Onam. A harvest festival that has such deep meaning in Kerala’s culture and history. Yet, when I scroll through conversations and posts, what I mostly see is talk about the sadhya and the new clothes. The feast is grand and the outfits are beautiful, but is that all we want to pass on to the next generation? The real value of Onam was never just about what is on the plate or in the wardrobe. It was about unity, equality, and gratitude for nature’s blessings. This is not just about Onam. Think of other festivals we celebrate. Ganesh festival rituals never asked for loud music or massive processions. Deepavali never demanded deafening crackers, it was meant to be about lighting your home. Dandiya was about community joy, not blasting speakers all night. Burning the effigy of Ravan in Dussehra, carrying out tazias in Moharram, or decorating trees at Christmas all had meaning and purpose. But what have we turned them into today. If we can burst crackers for IPL wins or weddings, t...