It’s an old friend. And he’s calling to tell me that he has found the pretty Kashmiri girl he had a big crush on in college. (Well, actually he just, sort of, casually mentions it towards the end of 25 minutes of waning conversation with a self-conscious cough that  warns me something important is coming up). “The one you tossed a chocolate to at your friend’s wedding; who caught it with a lilting laugh? Who you could never tell how you felt about her? You found HER?” I ask, completely captivated. “Yes, yes. And YES!” he says. I can hear the smile in his voice and it just widens mine.

In a moment, we’ve gone back 25 years and it took just one name to do that. Time travel is the biggest gift of a first crush or a college-time romance but you’ll know that only if you met an old heartthrob recently. The object of our once-upon-a-time affection  takes us zipping back (at the approximate speed of 19.5 years a second) to those days and those feelings that rushed down our veins at age 20 (plus or minus a few years) but no longer do since we now have blood sugar and bad cholesterol coursing there instead.

You might be a serious investment banker or a lecturer in a college or someone that sounds equally un-intriguing but let that special somebody take one step into your life (why life, even conversation) and suddenly your dimples gets deeper, your eyes get shinier, your heart starts beating faster than after a cardio workout (skipping/jogging included) and you actually start hearing violins and romantic Rafi numbers playing in the stereo inside the head.

If I were Stephen Hawking, I would call them black holes. These gals (and guys) who can make us time travel back into the past. When you enter at one end you are – a perfectly ordinary middle-aged person with greying hair, a little paunch, a quivering double chin, a delicate sprinkle of crows feet around the eyes – a responsible mom or dad, a devoted partner, a goal-oriented career professional with a big car, a flat in some hot location, an enviable collection of music or books or liquor, a dog and a kid or more. You are any (or all) of the above. But when you come out (more shaken than stirred – a bit  like the older James Bond’s favourite martini), you are a breathless collegiate stuck for words with the heart beating just a little faster, hoping for a chance to secretly run a comb through the hair. Just the way you were decades back, returning from the library and suddenly locking eyes with that special someone walking around the school or college building in romantic slow motion.

When you recover your breath from that encounter you find that like Spiderman freshly bitten, you have suddenly found the power to enjoy a romantic piece of music, a seductive perfume or the fragrance of a flower that you thought had stopped blooming in the garden of life long back. Long time since you felt like that, right? And it does feel good to be 18 or 19 once again. Particularly when you are 40, or 50, maybe even a few decades older.

Wouldn’t be able to tell you for sure right now because I haven’t been there yet (but plan to since I’m taking my vitamin pills, walking down the right side of the road (which, here in India, is the left) and going for daily aerobics).  Thank technology (or curse it), communication has become completely personalized and it has never been been easier to find an old sweetheart. No longer do you have to stutter and stammer asking common friends or relatives for an address or a phone number, or think  10 times before calling that painfully-acquired landline number fearing that an angry jealous spouse might pick it up. All it takes now is an Internet connection, a google search, an e mail, a friend request or a call on the cell – and hey presto, you are speaking to Mr or Ms Old Heartthrob again.

Don’t read me wrong. I’m not advocating hitting on an old heartthrob. Actually, I doubt you would have even felt this way if you had gone ahead and married those people and spent a few years smelling bad breaths and looking at sleep-swollen faces. When young, we seldom look beyond  that quirky style or those melting brown eyes for those delightful qualities that make relationships special. Like intelligence or sincerity or sensitivity or sense of humour or even the ability to laugh together (that most of us now value higher than looks – even if we just want to have a good conversation with someone, leave alone spend a lifetime together). These are the little things that keep the magic alive in old relationships. If you’ve found all that with a present partner, you don’t need this writer  to tell you: hang on to them. Because that’s true love – so much more precious than time travel.

If you haven’t, you might just be tempted (at the risk of getting a black eye and more from your spouse)  to look again for  that ravishing beauty/heartbeat-stopping Adonis who once made you walk on air.  Go  ahead, I’d say, but only if you’re ready to experiment with time travel, or feel you have the maturity to redefine relationships and be “just good friends.”  But be warned that he might just have turned into a fat, ugly frog (or a selfish, conniving narcissist) in those years that you acquired size 42 hips, a few tyres around the midriff and greyed all your beautiful black hair. So there goes your favourite fantasy, cracking to bits in your mind.

Or, he/she might have aged beautifully like old wine and also acquired a wit and world view that makes you fall in love all over again. If you’re both single and ready to mingle, wonderful! If you aren’t, then too bad buddy. You mess up what you have for something you can’t have. A lifetime of weeping into the pillow guaranteed. So, maybe, it’s best when links to old heartthrobs don’t work. We can heave a sigh of relief and move on, letting them live forever 16 – eternally young and attractive – at least in our memories.

Rachna Bisht-Rawat is a journalist and writer. She is also mom to a nine-year-old and gypsy wife to an Army officer whose work takes the Rawats to some of the most remote corners of India. You can read her blog at rachnabisht.com