சில விஷயங்கள் எப்போதுமே பச்சைப் பசேல் என நமக்குள் படர்ந்து நம்மை பரவசப்படுத்திக் கொண்டே இருக்கும்.. சில விஷயங்கள் எப்போதுமே பட்டாம்பூச்சி போல சிறகடித்துப் பறந்து கொண்டே இருக்கும் மனசுக்குள்.. அவை அப்படித்தான்.. அவைதான் உண்மையான  வாழ்க்கையின் உயிரோட்டமும் கூட.

அப்படிப்பட்ட ஒரு மாஜிக்கல் மொமன்ட் பற்றி அழகுற விவரித்துள்ளார் நம்முடைய துர்காதேவி.. என்னன்னு பார்க்கலாம் ஓடியாங்க!

From morning onward,

my heart was wrapped in a strange excitement,

a joy that words refused to hold.

As the hours moved,

that quiet thrill rose higher and higher,

until, full of hope and unspoken dreams,

I stepped into the place

where time itself was waiting.

Outside, a couple of boys already stood—

familiar faces, softened by years,

yet instantly the same.

Within ten minutes we were all there,

and suddenly a time machine whirred within us,

carrying us back to 1998.

We were grown, yet children again,

dressed in colour, but wearing our old hearts.

Snacks in hand, laughter bursting free,

we spoke as if twenty-seven years

were merely a pause between breaths.

Distance dissolved,

and friendship slipped back effortlessly

into its rightful place.

Introductions began—

Shivraj, still soft-spoken,

still gentle as those schoolday mornings,

tried to speak, while Suganya,

bright whirlwind of words,

flooded him with questions and laughter,

impossible to contain.

Then Indhumathi stood,

smiling with the same sunlight

she carried back then,

her warmth melting every heart,

her playful curiosity turning

introductions into joyful interviews.

Gopi followed—

half cringe, half brilliance, all laughter—

his jokes filling the room,

his teenage memories of secret crushes

retold with the same wonder,

as if we were still sitting in dusty classrooms.

And then Rekha—

once the beauty prince of those golden days,

now arrived as a radiant beauty queen,

carrying both grace and gentle maturity,

yet holding within her the same childlike spark,

a blend so rare it warmed every soul around.

Emotions soon slipped through laughter,

as Kumutha, Dinesh Bharath, Saravanan

opened hidden corners of their hearts,

reminding us that with friends

nothing truly remains hidden.

And Saravanan’s chats fed not just hunger,

but something deeper within us.

Those tender moments

lifted like morning mist before the sun,

and once again the hall echoed

with unstoppable joy.

Yuuvaj stood as living proof

of what dreams and hard work can become,

and pride warmed us like light.

In Jayabharathi’s quiet face,

I saw the reflection of her mother,

and in her silence

a gentle comfort rested among our noise.

And at last, Suresh—

the heart behind this miracle of reunion—

welcomed and guided us

with care so delicate

that no word ever wounded,

only healed, only held us together,

and sent us off wrapped in gratitude.

Today, after twenty-seven years,

we did not just meet—

we returned,

we remembered,

we laughed,

we healed,

and for a few precious hours,

we lived as we once were—

only wiser, warmer,

and still bound

by a friendship time could never steal.

(About the Author: Durgadevi V , Graduate Teacher , GHS Nesal , Tiruvannamalai District)