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Just to confirm we are getting old, tomorrow we attend the walima of the daughter of friends, who was eighteen months old when she came to our own wedding back in 2001.

Tomorrow will be a great reunion of all those friends united in West Ealing two decades ago, most of us converts. The proud parents, we shared an allotment with until they moved to the gulf.

Even then we were inseparable, visiting them there one year. By the time they returned, we had moved out of the area ourselves, but still we return frequently to reminisce. Lifelong friendships were forged around that short stretch of the Uxbridge Road back then.

I have such great memories of those days and the fun we had. It’s a shock, really, to discover that twenty-two years have passed since I blew my head off attempting to cool down a hot biryani with a what I thought was mint-infused yoghurt, but turned out to be super strength green chilli chutney.

I have no doubt at all that my companions will remind me of that tale tomorrow. That was the first time I visited their house with my new wife. After that, there have been many such meals shared in kind, seated on their living room floor, all washed down with cardamom green tea.

I suppose it’s time to admit that we’re not young anymore. Now it’s the young ones’ turn to start out on such adventures of their own. A new chapter opens.