Sanjay arrived at KHS in the 6th grade, a quiet, unassuming chap, the sort of fellow who wouldn’t dream of causing a ruckus in class. Naturally, we didn’t talk much. But fate, in the form of the 8th-grade French class, flung us together. Not that we actually conversed in French—perish the thought!

Now, I have always considered myself something of a linguist. My expertise in the French language was unparalleled, or so I believed. Then came the unit test, and lo! Sanjay, much to my surprise, secured the same score as me—40/40. A minor blip, I thought. But when the terminal exams rolled around, I—a man who had devoured Asterix comics like a starving poet and could discourse at length on the fact that the pirate in said comics was modeled after Kirk Douglas—scored a historic 26/100. Sanjay, meanwhile, had the audacity to top the class! I even knew that the French textook wasnot wood made but of esparto grass.

A lesser man might have sulked, but I, being of a generous disposition, took it in stride. And that was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. I was a storyteller; he, the loyal audience. We kept in touch even after school. Sanjay, now a proper doctor, was always ready to field my medical queries, no matter how ridiculous.

I, of course, never let him forget his profession. Whenever we met, my customary greeting was, "Ah, Quack... I mean, Doc." And to his credit, not once did he lob a stethoscope at my head.

Even now, he remains the same—always willing to help, whether it’s deciphering a blood report or offering advice for ailing family members. When Ramnath passed away, Sanjay was genuinely sad that he couldn’t do more. That, my friends, is the mark of a true golden-hearted gentleman.

So, on this grand occasion, let us all raise a metaphorical toast to the one and only Dr. Sanjay Desai! May he have a smashing birthday filled with joy, good health, and absolutely no surprise medical emergencies. 🎉🎂

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