Some things have changed. Some things never will – not in this lifetime. I look at my face in the mirror of the guesthouse of my alma mater and try to discover the changes. I’ve just stepped out of the shower and am buttoning the black Polo shirt that has always been my favourite. The faded pair of Levis and black blazer complete the look. I shave and dab on some cologne. Like the scouts will tell you, ‘Be prepared’. Then I comb my hair and, looking at the strands of silver that have appeared of late around my sideburns, wonder idly if any girl would still find me attractive. After all, at age thirty five the girls on the MIJ campus will probably find me too old, unless I meet one of those who find older men sexy because they have grey sideburns.