Hyderabad: Nostalgia is a stubborn guest; it never quite leaves.
Perhaps that is why it feels so sweet — it ties us to the moments and people who shaped our early journeys.
This Tuesday was one such day, wrapped in memory and warmth. I met several long-lost friends from my early years in journalism. Four decades ago, we were all young, restless, and brimming with ambition as we took our first tentative steps at the Citizen’s Evening. Today, with most of us now senior citizens, the passage of time has added new layers to our stories — and from “eveninger to evergreen,” the spirit remains unchanged.
Reunions are usually reserved for old boys’ clubs, but ours was something more spirited — a gathering of former scribes of Citizen’s Evening. And the venue could not have been more fitting: “Once Upon a Time” restaurant in Ameerpet. Once upon a time, after all, we had shared deadlines, bylines and dreams under the same newsroom roof.
We are not sweet sixteen anymore. But seventeen of us turned up — some older, some gracefully so — yet every one of them was still sharp, curious, and instinctively alert to the scent of a story.
The reunion took shape thanks to the efforts of Sushil Rao (now with The Times of India), Nagamani, Gayatri Harnoor, and Satish Huchu. Those present included:
K. Stevenson, Profofessor & Head, Department of Journalism and Communication, K. Venkateswarlu, M. Ravi Reddy, Resident Editor, The Hindu, H. Satish, Photographer, J. S. Ifthekar, Srinivas Roopi, Economic Times (Digital), Sridhar Penna, Srinivas U, T-News Urdu, Abdul Qayyum, Editor, T-News Urdu, Nirmal Kumar, Nandini and Anand.
Adding to the nostalgia, some colleagues brought along old, precious copies of Citizen’s Evening — the yellowed pages still fragrant with history, headlines, and memories of a newsroom that shaped us all. It felt like holding time itself.
Over lunch, we revisited the madness of rushing against the clock for an eveninger, the camaraderie that only a newsroom can forge, and the pressures that once felt enormous but now seem wonderfully sweet in retrospect.
Some among us still helm desks at major media houses, others have stepped back, and a few — like this writer — are freelancing. But the truth remains: a journalist never hangs up his boots. Or rather, his pen.
The afternoon ended with a thoughtful gesture — each participant was presented with a Certificate of Achievement, a simple but meaningful token honouring the bond we share and the journey we once walked together.
It was a day of laughter, stories, and gratitude — a reminder that newsprint may fade, but friendships forged in the fire of deadlines endure far longer than the stories we once chased.
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