Not all big plans begin with fireworks — some begin quietly, in a WhatsApp group.
It started with a casual message:
“Shall we… plan a trip?” … It felt casual but still daring. The idea of meeting after nearly two decades sounded so dreamy that most of us smiled at the thought but weren’t sure if it would ever really happen. Life took us down different paths—careers, marriages, kids, new cities, lost connections, health scare and all the chaos in between. Of all rediscovering ourselves over decades.
But the message still lingered…
Slowly messages poured in “Yes!, lets do it .. it should happen now ”. But behind those excite emojis were unspoken thoughts:
“Will this really happen?”
“Should we keep it under wraps in case something goes wrong?”
“Will we even connect the same way after so long?” “what if the magic was gone? “
“What if the girls we once were didn’t know how to be with the women we had become?”
And so, We didn’t share the details widely, almost guarding it like a fragile wish — out of the fear that it might fall through if we announce it.
But — it happened. One by one, tickets were booked. Plans took shape. Out-of-office emails were set. And Super 6 sealed the plan and the countdown began.
The name “Super 6” might sound innocent and naive now, but back in our college days, it gave us an air of coolness. . We had all changed. Grown in different directions, weathered storms that the others hadn’t seen. There was a soft fear: Yet, through it all, that unspoken bond of love and respect remained, quietly keeping us connected. And so, we reunited in a place, none of us called it home, but one that promised serenity, soul, and stories—Sri Lanka.
Hilton Colombo was filled with air thick with emotion and excitement – we hugged, laughed, and looked at each other with awe. We had made it. All six of us. The first few hours were a blend of joy and gentle observation — testing the waters, picking up the pieces of an old melody. And slowly, the rhythm returned. We laughed at the same kinds of jokes, finished each other’s sentences, and fell into a familiar chaos of trying to get ready, deciding what to wear, and running late to everything.
The shopping scenes in Colombo were hilarious and oddly comforting. We walked into boutiques like kids in a candy store, picking out bright batik fabrics, posing dramatically, and choosing semi-precious gemstone rings — one for each of us. Different stones, yet they somehow matched. Much like us. That moment, standing together, sliding the rings on our fingers, felt ceremonial — like we were marking something quietly sacred.
Our drive to Sigiriya in the hot sun brought back old hostel vibes. We sang, napped, bickered over snacks, and finally arrived for a cave temple climb that tested our stamina and spirit. We climbed with laughter and breathless encouragement, stopping every few steps to pose, complain, cheer, and rest. There was no rush, no pressure — just the warmth of taking things at our own pace, together.
The Hikkaduwa beach brought a change of pace. We walked by the waves, pairs shifting naturally, words flowing and sometimes not needing to. There was space to speak, and space to just be. We spoke of past hurts, current joys, family chaos, career highs and lows — everything we never found time to say over years of catching up only through forwarded messages and festive greetings. There were quiet moments of just sitting, feet buried in the sand, minds unburdening in the company of those who understood without explanation.
We roamed the Dutch fort walls in Galle like teenagers on a college trip — clicking endless photos, stealing ice cream bites, and laughing at our own madness. The silliness was familiar, comforting, and healing. Somewhere along that walk, all the years that had passed melted into a timeless sisterhood.
Our final night became something we didn’t plan but deeply needed. We gathered in a circle — tired, raw, open. One by one, the stories came out. Some painful, some hilarious, some just quietly heartfelt. We poured out everything we’d carried — the kind of things that don’t make it into everyday conversations but sit heavy in the corners of our being. We cried, nodded, hugged, held hands. It wasn’t dramatic, just deeply human. A shared exhale after years of holding in.
We returned different — softer, lighter, deeply nourished. We didn’t need daily check-ins or constant updates to feel connected anymore. That trip reminded us of the roots that still held strong, even if the branches had grown in different directions. Super 6 may have started as a silly name for a college gang, but over the years, it had become family — not by blood, but by shared laughter, shared pain, and the silent knowing that some friendships are meant to last a lifetime. The rings we wore back home were not just souvenirs — they were reminders. Of who we were, who we are, and everything we still mean to each other.
Friendships, whether with men or women, have a remarkable way of entering our lives at the perfect time, offering us support, love, and the chance to grow. Over the years, I’ve been fortunate to have friends who’ve walked with me through various stages of my life. Each one of them brings something unique, from different emotions to invaluable lessons, helping me become a better version of myself. The last three days spent with undergrad friends were truly rejuvenating, lifting me on so many different levels.
Though we may not meet every month—or even every year—I’m certain that when we do, we’ll pick up exactly where we left off, beginning with the moment we were christened as the “Super 6” and flowing effortlessly through all the stories and moments that have unfolded since.
Friendship, especially among women, strengthens through bickering, arguments, and those moments of “what I like versus what you don’t,” but at the heart of it all, it’s full of love and support. These bonds offer us the space to be vulnerable, to support and challenge each other, and to be unapologetically ourselves. They are the foundation that helps us navigate life’s ups and downs. Cheers to the friendships that shape us, the ones that come into our lives just when we need them, lifting us higher with each encounter.
