PGP 2015 Reunion: Dec 19 to Dec 21, 2025

By Anshika Sinha  

When We Walked Back In

Ten years ago, we walked out of the IIMA gates with degrees in hand and ambition in our eyes. 

Ten years later, we walked back in carrying something else entirely: perspective.

The red bricks stood exactly where we remembered them, steady and reassuring. Around them, the campus had grown – new buildings and new spaces, a quieter confidence of progress layered gently over memory. And yet, the charm lingered in familiar walkways. In conversations that picked up mid-sentence, and in laughter that needed no warm up. Long hugs replaced words, and somewhere between old corridors and new corners, we realised that IIMA wasn’t just a chapter we had completed. It was a part of us that had stayed.

Catching Up on a Decade

If the first few minutes were about recognising faces, the next few hours were about rediscovering people. The reunion began with a batch-only interaction on Friday evening, intended as an ice breaker but quickly turning into something far more familiar. Over tea and snacks, conversations moved easily beyond just life updates into real stories.

Ten years had given us plenty to talk about. Careers had taken unexpected turns, priorities had evolved, and plans had changed. There were stories of bold bets and quiet persistence, of moves across cities and continents, and lessons learnt the hard way. Yet, what stood out was not how different our journeys had been, but how instinctively we understood one another. For a few hours, the decade in between quietly disappeared.

Music, Families, and Familiar Laughter

As the evening unfolded, the reunion widened its embrace. Families joined in, and the lawns outside IMDC filled with easy conversation and shared celebration. Stories found new listeners as spouses and children experienced the batch not through anecdotes, but through friendships and laughter.

Music set the tone for the night. Performances by the IIMA Music Club and our own Dorm 5 Basement carried a special kind of magic. Many of the musicians were playing together again after ten years, yet they slipped into rhythm as if no time had passed. It felt less like a performance and more like a reunion in harmony, unhurried and deeply familiar. 

Back to the Classroom

Saturday morning brought us back to a space that had shaped us more than we often realise. As we settled in, it took only minutes for old instincts to return, and soon the classroom felt exactly as it once had.

Professor Saral Mukherjee led a case discussion using Jiro Dreams of Sushi, filled with desperate CPs, arbitrary CPs, sharp cold calls, and plenty of laughter. Arguments were made with conviction, challenged with enthusiasm, and occasionally abandoned with good humour. For a while, titles and timelines faded away, and we were students again. Thinking hard, and enjoying every minute.

At the close of the session, Saral Sir reminded us that even at a hundred years of age, Jiro still dreams of sushi. And then came the question that stayed with us long after we stepped out: ‘What do you dream of?’

Memory Lane, In Motion

If the classroom took us back to how we thought, the afternoon reminded us how we lived. Walking through the old and new parts of campus with our families, memories surfaced effortlessly. Late night group work, long walks that built friendships, and moments of quiet doubt. The campus had evolved, yet its spirit felt unchanged.

That movement carried into the sports sessions that followed. Cricket, frisbee, basketball, badminton, and squash brought out old competitive instincts and easy laughter. Reflexes may have slowed, but the enthusiasm had not.

The Nights That Felt Just Right

As day turned into night, something unmistakably IIMA took over. Both nights stretched well past schedules and sensibility, ending somewhere around five or six in the morning. There were impromptu jam sessions, endless conversations, and laughter that only grew louder as the hours slipped by.

By morning, we were sleep-deprived but functional, slightly exhausted yet fully present. It felt strangely perfect. Just like our days at IIMA once had.

Looking Ahead, Together

Sunday brought a softer close. Over lunch at Vishalla, with traditional flavours, folk performances, and rustic charm, the reunion slowed its pace. Families gathered for one last photograph, stories were retold yet again, and goodbyes were exchanged with warmth rather than finality.

We returned as alumni, as professionals, as parents and friends, but most importantly, as a batch that still felt whole.

The Batch of 2015 had come home.

And our story continues.