Chp 907. Prepping for Reunion

Welcome back to my reunion series of blog posts.

After a disastrous but memorable first night in Bangalore, it was time to prepare for our upcoming Reunion.

25 years is a special milestone, and the organisers of our batch's 25th reunion had charted out a list of dress codes for different activities, which we were planning to buy in Bangalore. That's why we had dedicated our second day only to shopping.

Stephen, Tlawmlova, Azuala and Hminga were still deep in slumber, but my farmer instinct kicked in and I was up by sunrise. It took me a while to realise there were no pigs to feed or vegetation to water nearby. :P

The street outside our hotel was eerily quiet, peaceful and deserted, save for a lone sweeper taking a phone break, probably talking to his girlfriend and telling her about how I don't have a girlfriend. :P 

I then headed up to the dining area for the complimentary breakfast buffet, excited at the thought of stuffing my face with unlimited food first thing in the morning. But my enthusiasm took a slight detour when I saw the signboard… in Comic Sans font.

Comic. Freaking. Sans.

As someone from an advertising and design background, I will never not find this font hilarious. I mean, how am I supposed to take a place seriously when their signage looks like it was made by a preschooler using Microsoft Word in 2003? But hey, if bad typography was the price to pay for a good meal, I was willing to overlook this crime against design.

The buffet hall was nearly empty, much like my bank account after paying for all the flight tickets and hotel accommodations. :P

I started my course with a good cup of filter coffee, the elixir of South India, brewed to perfection. As I sat in the empty dining hall, cradling my filter coffee like a philosopher in deep thought, I stared at the vacant chair across from me. A metaphor, perhaps? Was the filter coffee filtering out a life partner for me too? Or was I just overthinking on an empty stomach? Lolz.

Soon it was time to eat. I decided to go full South Indian, which included crispy medu vada, soft uttapam, and pillowy idli, all perfectly paired with sambar and chutneys that ranged from soothing to fiery.

I demolished the plate like a man on a mission. But the battle wasn’t over.

Round two. This time, I went for some light, fluffy poha, spicy pongal rice and a classic masala omelette with a side of fresh salad to make myself feel like I was eating healthy. :P

The waiter came and told me that their chef could make any dosa of my choosing, but by then I was completely full and regretfully declined.

I waddled back to my room like a bloated balloon, kicked open the door (okay, not really, but that’s what it felt like), and woke the others. Stephen, still half-asleep, groggily dragged himself to the buffet. Tlawmlova and Azuala, on the other hand, decided to order breakfast straight to their room.

Once we were all happily stuffed, we headed to our shopping destination - The Galleria Mall, just a quick 5-minute ride from our hotel, where Hminga was waiting for us.

The Galleria Mall was a massive modern shopping haven filled with an endless array of stores. We strolled through its brightly lit corridors, hunting for the perfect ensemble to match our reunion’s strict dress code: Blue blazer, Cream pants, and Smart shoes. Because apparently, after 25 years, we needed to remind our teachers that we had, in fact, grown up. Well, at least in appearance. :P

I bought these really comfy stretchable cream pants from Max, which is a go-to brand for trendy yet affordable fashion. For the blue blazer, I decided to splurge a little and bought an expensive suit from Van Heusen. And finally, for the formal shoes, I bought these ridiculously comfortable slip-ons from Hush Puppies with extremely soft cushioned soles. 

Aaaand with that we were all done with our shopping in less than an hour, lolz. That's how boys roll, ladies. :D

We headed up to The Irish House for lunch, where we immediately ordered chilled mugs of Hoegaarden draught beer to quench our thirst.

This was followed by many dillu starters like Bacon-wrapped Cheese-stuffed Sausages, Fiery Ghostpepper Glazed Chicken Wings, Whacko Pesto Chicken Tacos, Grilled Baby Potatoes with Peri-peri Prawns, and Mediterranean Fish Slider Twist. Yummmm!

Hminga's sister Peki also joined us and we had a nostalgic time talking about the good old Bangalore days when the weather was perfect, Brigade Road had a unique charm, and traffic was just a rare inconvenience rather than a daily life crisis.

We kept the good vibes flowing with a couple more rounds of ice-cold Hoegaarden draught beer, each sip crisp and refreshing, the perfect antidote to Bangalore’s afternoon heat.

Here's Hminga's absolute masterskill in pouring beer from a pitcher. After all, who doesn't love 50% froth? :D

We tried a couple of their cocktails too, like the Cosmopolitan, Irish Coffee, and an Autumn Buzz made from vodka, absinthe, fresh carrot juice, elderflower and ginger ale (see, I went for carrot because I believe in drinking healthy).

The Irish House, like all other Irish pub franchises, had their usual quirky and funny signboards too.

We stuck to just appetisers and skipped the main course since it was already evening, and we had a big seafood feast planned at The Fisherman’s Wharf later that night. Our bill came to more than 15K, lolz. But it was worth it, after all, it's our Bro-cationnnn.

After we headed down to the mall, we shopped for a bit more, and I even bought a pair of smart glasses from Fastrack (that's why you should not shop when you're tipsy, kids, lolz). Now, these weren't as good as Meta's Ray-Ban glasses with photo and video recording capability, but they could answer phone calls as well as play music.

I received a worrisome message during that time, that our flight from Bangalore to Salem the next day had been delayed by four hours. So we would reach school only by 6 PM'ish, which was way too late. And given that it was Alliance Air, there's no guarantee it would be delayed further or even cancelled!

We hurried back to our hotel, took out my laptop and frantically looked for alternate flights. There was an early morning Indigo flight from Bangalore to Salem which we had rejected during our initial planning because we thought it was too early.

Our batchmates Ujjal (from Arunachal) and Bei (from Thailand), along with his fiancée, her brother, and Sam (our legendary senior, also from Thailand), had all booked that same flight, and it was a very tiny aeroplane, 16-seater ish, so there was no way there would be available seats less than 15 hours from departure. 

We decided to try our luck anyway, and wonder of wonders, there were exactly FIVE seats remaining, lolzzzzz.

Without wasting a second, I bought the tickets immediately while laughing and crying at the same time. We laughed because it was so surreal there were exactly 5 seats left, and we also cried because it cost me a wallet-crushing 22 grand! But hey, it was better to be safe than stranded. Crisis averted.

After that, we all got ready and headed out to The Fisherman's Wharf. Finally, lolz.

Tlawmlova insisted that he was going to treat all of us to dinner. I usually paid for every expense we racked up (hotel, food, travel etc) and then split them and sent the others the amount, which they gpayed me back individually, but for this dinner, Tlawmlova was adamant it was going to be entirely his treat! Niceee.

As soon as we told the hostess we were planning to have giant lobsters and crabs, the staff brought out their finest selections for us to choose from. The lobsters were massive, almost the size of a baby crocodile (okay, slight exaggeration), with their long antennae twitching as if sensing their fate. Their shell gleamed under the restaurant lights, a deep reddish-green hue, just waiting to be transformed into something delicious.

Next up, the crabs. These weren’t just any crabs; they were chunky, heavyweight champions of the sea, with massive claws that looked like they could snap a chopstick in half with ease. Tlawmlova selected the two biggest and meanest-looking ones.

While our giant lobsters and crabs were transported back to the kitchen for preparation, we focussed on the starters. As recommended by Hminga and Peki, we ordered delicious appetisers like Prawn Racheado, Calamari Tempura and Mutton Xacuti, along with some buttery soft naans.

For the drinks, Tlawmlova ordered an entire bottle of Black Label! Considering the prices at a premium restaurant like this, that must have cost a bomb. I felt slightly guilty so I decided to drink only cocktails. While cocktails might seem expensive, if you calculate the duration it takes to finish one compared to the number of premium whisky refills you pour within that same period, cocktails are actually cheaper in the long run. Trust me, I actually did my research on this when I was in Pune! True story.

I went for the Bloody Mary, Long Island Ice Tea and Mojito. hic!

Meanwhile, the ambience was absolutely perfect. The restaurant had vast open-air seating, a refreshing breeze rolling in, and a soft glow from ambient lighting, while colourful streamers fluttered above at the nearby shacks, adding to the vibrant charm. 

There was just the right level of background music. It was lively but not loud enough to drown out our laughter and conversations. After the madness of Bangalore traffic and our previous night’s "great food hunt", this was exactly the vibe we needed.

We video-called our classmate Paul too, as he was also planning to come with us on our trip but had to cancel due to an ongoing medical treatment. We shamelessly showed him all the food and drinks he was missing out on, lolz.

And then, the moment we were waiting for. Our Herbs and Garlic Lobsters and Lemon Butter Crabs arrived, looking like something straight out of a five-star cooking show.

Cooked to perfection, smothered in a fragrant herb-infused butter, drenched in creamy lemon-butter sauce, yum yum yummmmmm.

Between cracking shells, butter dripping down our fingers, and everyone fighting for the last juicy bite, we had an absolute blast. The jokes got louder, the conversations got funnier, and we were probably the liveliest table in the entire restaurant.

To end the magnificent feast, we ordered Bebinca, a traditional Goan layered cake served with vanilla ice cream. It was warm, slightly caramelised on top, soft in the middle, and paired perfectly with the cold, creamy ice cream. Soooo good. The perfect ending to a legendary meal.

We all thanked Tlawmlova (and Hminga who chipped in a bit too) for the awesome dinner as we slowly walked back to our hotel, where we hung out for a few more minutes in our room.

Soon it was time to call it a night as we had to get up the next day at 5 AM to catch our (super expensive) Salem flight. So hoping to see you here when we finally get to visit our school again after 25 long years. Until then, cheers.

Chp 906. Bro-cation!

It’s never too late to pack your bags and go on a trip, a vacation with your bros, or as I would call it, a bro-cation, even at the ripe age of 44. 

Sure, you might be busy juggling work deadlines, or running your own hectic entrepreneurship, or managing your kids' homework or college fees, or even trying to figure out why you're having a dad bod even though you're not a dad yet. :P

But sometimes, you need a break from all that. A trip back to a time when you were innocent and life was easier and simpler and without any responsibilities, a trip... back to school days. And that’s exactly what we did recently.

The occasion? Our 25th class reunion. Yes, it was time for our Montfort batch's Silver Jubilee! 25 years! 25 freaking years had passed since we graduated from school.

How did time fly by so fast? Weren’t we just running around the basketball court in our tiny shorts, scribbling love letters while pretending to take notes in class, and sneaking into the mess to steal some bread slices just a few weeks ago? Ah, the passage of time is cruel yet poetic.

When the reunion date was announced—4th October 2024—our Mizo batch was excited. There were 11 of us from Mizoram in our batch. 

Four people couldn't make it: Francis passed away in 2005 (may you always rest in peace brother), Shuvojit had lost touch with everyone from our batch, despite numerous efforts to reconnect with him, and Byron & Notea had medical issues. The remaining six of us confirmed our participation.

Sadly, Paul had to bow out a month before the reunion due to ongoing treatment, leaving just Tlawmlova, Azuala, Hminga, Rempuia, Stephen, and me ready to take this trip down memory lane.

Still, a 50% turnout from our Mizo gang wasn’t bad at all—especially since other batches barely had one or two Mizos show up for their respective reunions. Clearly, we had a reputation to uphold!

And so, the task of booking our flight tickets and multiple hotel accommodations landed on me, given that I’ve been the one racking up the most travel miles recently. In this post, I’ll walk you through all the fun, crazy moments we shared on this epic trip. As for the actual reunion event, I’ll post that later. For now, it’s all about the bros, the banter, and the good times.

Leading up to the reunion, our Mizo gang had frequent WhatsApp group calls and occasional meetups to plan our trip, just so that we would all agree on the dates, flights and hotels.

And, of course, Tlawmlova, being the Mizoram State Protocol Officer (now the current DC of Mamit), brought his official flair to the process. He charted out the itinerary using phrases like 0800 hours, Halt at Bangalore, and Hydration station established, etc., turning our group chat into something like a military operation, lolz.

We decided to meet up in Bangalore two days before our reunion to have the wildest bro-time imaginable. After all, we knew the reunion events would sap every ounce of our energy, leaving no fuel for partying on our way back. Yeah, we may be wild but we are 44 too. :D

On the day of our rendezvous, 2nd October, I took a flight from Pune to Bangalore, while Tlawmlova, Azuala and Stephen descended from Aizawl, and we coordinated our flights so perfectly that we both landed at the same time. In fact, I waved to Stephen from my plane who was also on a window seat of his plane as his pilot swerved just in time to avoid colliding with my plane. :P

A few minutes later, we reunited at the luggage rolling equipment, whatever that thingie is called, exchanging epic bro-hugs like soldiers returning from war. 

Luggage in tow, we booked an Uber to our hotel, grinning like kids on a field trip. Ah, Bangalore, it was so good to be back, so many memories here! 

The sad part about landing on the 2nd of October was that it was Gandhi's birthday—A dry day!

But worry not, we had everything planned in advance! Hminga—our Bangalore base commander—was already at our hotel, waiting with open arms and, more importantly, a fully stocked bar, lolz.

But alas, things don't always go to plan in the grand scheme of things. Rempuia had to cancel his flight from Mumbai at the last minute due to a sudden change in his shooting location. Sadly, this meant he’d miss out on both our bro-bonding sessions and our class reunion. We toasted to him later that night, wishing he could have been there with us, as well as our fallen brother Francis and the rest of the Mizos who couldn't make it.

But the five of us had an absolute blast on our own. We had a fantastic reunion inside our hotel rooms, swapping stories and laughing nonstop (though we did have to switch to a new room twice because the ACs weren't working properly, lolz). And once we were feeling sufficiently high on life and spirits, we headed out for dinner.

Here's the thing about Bangalore today. The traffic is horrible! It's not like the good old days when I used to drive from Bannerghatta to Kammanahalli in half an hour. Today it would take more than 4 hours to do so! And so we all decided to chill out only around our hotel vicinity.

Our classmate Anthony Paul and his wife Becky had invited us for dinner too, but they stayed all the way at Whitefield, which would take us 2-3 hours just to reach there. And so we had to regretfully decline their kind invitation.

Hminga had planned our dinner at "The Fisherman's Wharf", a well-known restaurant famous for its mouthwatering seafood and authentic Goan cuisine. It was just a few meters away from our hotel, and so we walked over there.

When we reached the place to have our grand dinner, we discovered that it was closed, lolz. 

Yup. Genius Hminga. He assumed "dry days" only meant hotels and bars wouldn't serve alcohol but still operate, when in reality, most of these establishments remain closed on dry days since alcohol is their main source of business. Wah wah. :D

We spent the next half an hour frantically searching on Google Maps for the nearest eatery. We walked into a few roadside restaurants, but they were super shady. Then we saw this grand-looking place called "Global Dhaba" with really good reviews and thought, yes, this is the one! 

But the place was super-packed and nobody came to take our order even after we were seated for more than 5 minutes, so we strutted out (with elegance). The hostess apologised and we told her not to worry about it.

Finally, we decided to head to the nearby "Phoenix Mall of Asia", figuring a mall that massive would have some good food options. I booked an Uber and we paid the driver extra because there were five of us.

The mall was nice, but it was crowded since it was a holiday. We roamed around a bit but didn't buy anything because the next day was our planned shopping day. We walked up to the third floor where all the restaurants and food court were located, only to find that all the good joints like Chilli's, Sally By 1522, Plaka, etc., were all closed because... Dry day. 

Only the Food Court section was open and there was indeed a wide variety of cuisines to choose from, but all the tables were occupied and it was noisy as hell and so, we finally decided to head back to our hotel and eat at their restaurant. I quickly called the reception and placed our dinner order since it was almost closing time for the kitchen.

Our luck was really running out. 

And as the saying goes, when it rains, it pours. It was literally raining heavily when we were about to exit the mall, lolz! What an experience indeed. None of our Uber or Ola bookings were getting accepted because our hotel was too close, as every driver was busy making a killing in the rain surge pricing.

Enter Tlawmlova, our Protocol officer, who found an auto-driver and settled for 500 bucks to drop us back at our hotel. On a normal day, it wouldn't even cost ₹ 50, but we didn't really have a choice and we were really hungry by then and our hotel kitchen was almost about to close.

But we had so much fun in that tiny auto. Absolutely madness. We were also all drenched, lolz.

Finally, back at our hotel's restaurant, we ended our wild food hunt with the most satisfying meal—soft, buttery naans and rich, creamy butter chicken. After all the struggle we went through that night, every bite tasted like victory. :D

We couldn't stop roasting Hminga on how disastrous his planning had been and that we were firing him as our chief planner, lolz. 

But honestly? It’s moments like these that make a trip truly unforgettable. If everything had gone smoothly and we enjoyed a perfect meal as planned and gone back to our hotel without a hitch—what would there even be to talk about? "Oh yeah, the crab was great." End of story.

But instead, we had the full adventure package—wandering down empty, dimly lit streets, frantically checking restaurant reviews, walking in and out of shady joints and jam-packed places, circling a food court like hungry hyenas, getting completely drenched in an unexpected downpour, paying an auto driver 10 times the usual fare just for the privilege of squeezing five grown-ass men into his tiny rickshaw, and finally, making it back to our hotel's restaurant just 2 minutes before closing time—something we could have easily done right from the very start itself without going through ALL that chaos and drama, lolzzz.

Now that is a story we’ll be telling (and laughing about) for years to come.

Oh, and just a thought—even if our original plan at The Fisherman’s Wharf had worked out, we probably would’ve ended up soaked anyway, considering the sudden downpour, as most of their seating is open-air. So yeah… disaster was inevitable for us that night. :P

Thankfully, the next day was much better and we did finally go to The Fisherman's Wharf for dinner, so I hope you come back to read my next post. Until then, cheers.

Chp 905. TWENTY YEARS a blogger!

Twenty years ago, something wild happened. 

Among all the elites and crème de la crème of toppers from IITs in my IIM-Bangalore class, I managed to score the highest mark in our BGS course paper submission. Not that I was selling myself short—there were rare moments when I grazed the top percentile—but never the coveted pinnacle. Until that day.

And so that night, I logged on to the internet from my dimly lit yet cosy hostel room where the walls (and even ceiling) were plastered with random posters, and created a new blogger account and posted what I had written, just to share my excitement with the void. That was my very first blog post.

Little did I know that 20 years later, I would still be continuing the same blog today.

Happy 20th Blog Anniversary to me, yayyy.

Until that moment, I had never fancied myself as a "writer". None of my friends who knew me well from school or college would even fathom me sitting in front of a keyboard and typing... words. 

I was more of a mix of both a "Jock" and a "Nerd" back then, two groups that are usually nemesis. The jock part of me was being the basketball and handball captain as well as a member of the football team, and the nerd part of me was being totally fascinated by tech and PC games, and eventually graduating as a computer science engineer.

And yet, I developed a new passion for writing that night, 20 years ago.

20 years. Two whole decades. That’s how long I’ve been blogging. To put that into perspective, my blog is older than... YouTube, Twitter, WhatsApp, Instagram, and even Facebook (the public launch). My blog was already out there doing its thing while Mark Zuckerberg was still figuring out which hoodie to wear to Harvard. :P

In these 20 years, I’ve seen soooo many trends come and go, platforms rise and fall, and entire industries get disrupted. Yet here I am, still clicking away on my keyboard, penning down my thoughts, stories, and random musings for anyone who’d care to read. From writing about college pranks and Mumbai rains to office trips and Mizo society, this blog has seen it all. It’s been my constant companion, my digital diary, and sometimes, my therapist.

This blog is also the reason why I got my first job as a copywriter! It opened multiple doors I never imagined would be possible, and gradually steered me into the world of imagination and creativity. It’s incredible to think that a simple space to share my thoughts would evolve into the foundation of a career built on innovation and storytelling.

And now, as my blog turns 20, I can’t help but feel a little nostalgic. So much has changed since 2004. For instance, during the early years of my blog, there was no Google Photos or Drive, so we had to host all the images of our blog post on a third-party website and link them manually from our post!

Thanks to that, around 70% of my earlier blog posts now have broken image links because Photobucket decided to hold my 6000+ images hostage. I promise I will eventually move all those images to a new host one day. Sad.

But that’s not even the saddest part. I was already a die-hard Arsenal fan before I started this blog, and I was over the moon when we clinched the league title in the legendary Invincibles 2003-04 season. But since then—right after I began blogging—two whole decades have passed, and we still haven’t won the freaking League title again! *super cry* Here’s hoping I won’t have to wait another 20 years to finally write that long-overdue celebration post, lolz.

I have seen close friends get married and have kids during the course of my blogging journey, while I still remain a bachelor. And there are even those who went through a divorce and remarried again for a second and third time. Maybe that’s why I feel so deeply connected to my blog. It’s the one thing I’m truly married to—no drama, no heartbreaks, just unwavering companionship. :P

Anyway, I don’t want to ramble on and turn this into a mini-novel. I just want to say how grateful I am for this journey—20 years of blogging, sharing stories, finding new friends, cherishing new memories, creating awareness about Mizoram, and connecting with so many of you along the way.

Blogging is dead now, or so they say. But if you have a passion for writing, it’s not about how many people still visit your blog. It’s about how you pour your thoughts onto your post, how you capture fleeting moments and emotions, and how you leave behind a little piece of yourself in every post. It’s about the joy of expression, the catharsis of storytelling, and the connection—no matter how small—with anyone out there who stumbles upon your words and feels a spark of understanding.

It’s been a rollercoaster of words, emotions, and late-night typing sprees, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Here’s to many more stories, laughs, and blog updates. Cheers to the next chapter, folks!