Some evenings aren’t measured by the hours they last or the kilometres you walk, but by the conversations you carry home with you.
I had the pleasure of spending one such beautiful evening in Chandigarh with my dear Italian friend, who had come to visit the beautiful city and spend some time with me. What began as a casual plan to explore the city turned into more than five hours of walking, wandering, shopping, and talking.
We started at Sector 17, indulged in a little shopping, strolled through the beautiful Rose Garden, and eventually made our way to the iconic Rock Garden. Somewhere along the way, we’d covered over 10 kilometres, without really keeping track of either time or distance.
There was also a rather special moment that evening. I offered her what I consider one of the highest forms of salutation in our cultural tradition — the Panchang Namaskar, a traditional gesture of reverence offered with all five limbs touching the ground, and the head at the toe. I offered it to her as a female teacher, a Guru Ma.
In Indian philosophy, a Guru isn’t merely someone who imparts knowledge; a guru is someone who helps illuminate the path of learning. For me, it was a small but deeply meaningful gesture of respect, gratitude, and acknowledgement of the teacher within her. Some expressions of respect are best communicated not through words, but through gestures.
But it wasn’t the walk, the places, the shopping, or even the beautiful city weather that made the evening special. It was the conversations.
We spoke about almost everything under the sun — life, relationships, philosophy, psychology, art, cinema, literature, history, cultures, travel, science, education, human behaviour, dreams, disappointments, wounds, scars, vulnerabilities, healing, and the many contradictions that make us human.
We travelled through different worlds without ever leaving the city. We exchanged ideas, challenged perspectives, questioned assumptions, revisited memories, and occasionally wandered into subjects that don’t usually find their way into everyday conversations. There was room for intellectual curiosity, emotional honesty, disagreements, laughter, and even comfortable silences.
I suppose that’s something I find increasingly rare in friendships. Not because people aren’t good or don’t care, but because everyone’s caught up in their own lives. Sometimes they’re too busy, sometimes they’re simply not interested in exploring certain subjects, and sometimes it’s probably a combination of both. Most conversations tend to revolve around work, responsibilities, daily updates, and the usual exchange of pleasantries.
There’s nothing wrong with that. But every once in a while, you crave a conversation that goes beyond the obvious. One where you can talk about the universe and human nature in the same breath, move from cinema to neuroscience, from history to personal experiences, and from philosophical questions to the wounds and scars we carry quietly within ourselves.
An evening like this reminds you how nourishing an intellectually stimulating and emotionally meaningful connection can be.
Perhaps the best friendships aren’t necessarily about how frequently you meet or how many messages you exchange. Sometimes they’re about finding someone you can wander through unfamiliar thoughts with, explore uncomfortable questions with, embrace different perspectives with, and be unapologetically curious with. Someone with whom you don’t have to constantly explain why you’re interested in something or apologize for thinking a little differently.
We started at Sector 17 and eventually made our way towards the Rock Garden, but the most memorable journey that evening wasn’t geographical.
It was through conversations, thoughts, memories, cultures, ideas, wounds, and perspectives.
Five hours, over 10 kilometres, a little shopping, countless subjects, and one genuinely beautiful evening.
These moments reminded me of a beautiful thought from a popular Urdu poem by Zafar Gorakhpuri.
There are only two truly difficult times in life — one before someone arrives, and the other after they’ve left.
Perhaps the hardest part isn’t the goodbye itself, but the silence and emptiness that follow when a beautiful presence becomes a memory.
Some walks take you through a city. Some conversations take you through the human experience. And occasionally, you get lucky enough to experience both on the same evening.
