And, there she was, as if summoned by my memory of past, hugging me, smiling at me, telling me that my black dress was too sexy and that she was being shown short as always. I hugged her, smiled at her, told her that her heart print silk tunic dress is very in and that she should stop bitching about everything.

In our twenties, we were both ambitious, aggressive and bitchy like any other corporate rats. Now, with the rough edge fine tuned, we ease into a controlled and relaxed mode.

We both laughed at the reminiscence of our first encounter. At a company cocktail party, in the middle of a conversation, some girl charged straight at me from the other end of the room. Before I could extend her the routine courtesy of a handshake and offer my name, she went on and on,

“I know you. You are the one who passed the exam in one shot. That is amazing! I have never met anyone who did that. I saw you in school before and always think of you as a bimbo, that you only care about your look…”

I almost choked by the Cosmopolitan I was sipping when I heard the word “bimbo” was used to describe me in the year when most perceived me as an overachiever - being at the top of the class, running a business, leading an honor society, dating the hottest man in school, passing one of the hardest exam that many fail many times, dining and wining with recruiters of top firms, getting competing job offers. But there and then, a stranger made a judgment on me and decided to call me a bimbo. It was too ironic that I couldn’t even take offense. I glanced at her and sensed that I was dealing with some different species, possibly more alien than Martians. I decided to play cool and responded causally, “Maybe I am a bimbo but just got lucky. Life isn’t fair after all.”

Strange as it sounded, we became good friends after that. She was an only child, very spoiled and self centered, but her longing for friendship made her cave in to my strict demand of punctuality and endure my from time to time sarcasm while I was often amused by her outspokenness and intrigued by her simplicity. 

“I guess you are not a bimbo after all” She vindicated her judgment, after our trip on the time machine to visit the past. 

“I am greatly obliged, your honor.” I said with a mocking solemnity.

Maybe the world would be a better place and we would all be happier if we stop making judgment on each other. Rather, we should think of ourselves as a new soul at the start of everyday, fresh and curious, never take anything for granted and never stop learning.