There’s something about old neighborhoods that hold memories like time capsules. Recently, one such memory walked right up to my doorstep – Arvind, who lived next door for the entirety of my childhood! We lived right next door for all of our formative years. We weren’t exactly friends back then, but our paths crossed enough to leave an undeniable imprint.

After all these years we met again. We lived right next door to each other for a good fifteen years while growing up. We weren’t exactly best friends, but there was a certain presence we held in each other’s lives, a silent acknowledgment that shaped our younger selves.

He was undeniably brilliant and his focus was laser-sharp. Back then, his studious nature sometimes felt like an unspoken competition. Maybe it was, in a way. It definitely pushed me to dig deeper in my own pursuits, even if they weren’t as academically inclined.

Our interests, I realized, took us down very different paths. While he thrived in the realm of logic and numbers, I gravitated towards the creative, the messy, and the imaginative. Perhaps that’s why a traditional friendship never quite blossomed.

Looking back, it’s easy to see how our personalities took us down different creative paths. Years have a way of softening edges, and catching up with him felt surprisingly comfortable. The competitive undercurrent seemed to have faded. It was a delightful walk down memory lane, a chance to reminisce about the sweet childhood time.

It was a sweet reminder of that unique chapter in our lives, a time where we unknowingly influenced each other’s journeys, even from a distance.