In 1981, I walked through the gates of B.J. Medical College, Pune, filled with pride and nervous excitement. Back then, getting into a government medical college wasn’t just about securing a seat — it was a stamp of your intelligence and hard work. Our batch had 200 students, many from rural parts of Maharashtra and cities like Nashik, Dhule, Jalgaon, and beyond.
Medical education is not for the faint-hearted. The curriculum is intense, the hours are long, and hospital duties take over your life. But in the midst of all that rigor, something beautiful happened — we became a family. We studied together, took night duties together, celebrated successes, and lifted each other during failures. That bond, forged over cadavers and clinical postings, hostel rooms and shared cups of chai, became the foundation of lifelong friendships.
We passed out with our MBBS in 1985, and many of us seamlessly entered postgraduate courses right there at Sassoon Hospital and BJMC. Back then, there was no NEET — admissions were direct, and transitions felt natural. By the time we were in our final years, many had also found life partners — often from the same batch or a year senior. That made our circle even more closely knit.
Unlike most educational paths, medicine keeps you together for nearly 8–9 years, through the most formative period of your life. You don’t just learn medicine together — you grow up together.
As life unfolded, we dispersed — starting private practices, raising families, building careers. Naturally, we lost touch for a while, consumed by responsibilities. But over the last few years, something shifted. With life a bit more settled, we began to reconnect.
That reconnection has taken the form of our annual ‘Batch of ’81’ reunions. Not everyone can attend, but about 80–90 of us make it each time. We gather for a couple of days, and in that short time, something magical happens — we become students again. Just this past weekend, we met at Malhar Machi, a beautiful resort near Pune. It was one of our best gatherings yet.
We sang. We danced. We trekked through the hills and sat under the stars talking late into the night — not about medicine, not about finances, but about old memories, hostel pranks, and professors we’ll never forget.
As we drove back home that Sunday evening, I was flooded with emotion. At this stage in life, I’ve come to realize something simple but profound: it’s your friends who become your greatest support system. When the professional titles are set aside, when family responsibilities ease a bit, it is friendship that stands tall — selfless, genuine, and rejuvenating.
To all the young people reading this — make time for friendships. Invest in those bonds during your college years. They are not just for fun or company in the moment. They become your safety net, your mirror, your source of joy — even decades later.
Because some relationships don’t fade with time — they only grow strong.