From Outcast to In-Cast: EDIAA- Synergy 2026 & the Reunion I Almost Skipped

2026 – August – The Palace By Park Jewels

A Little Backstory

I graduated from the Entrepreneurship Development Institute, Ahmedabad — Batch 7, Class of 2022. Proud alumnus. And, for most of my time there, a proud outcast.

I had transferred from SCMHRD Nasik after their Family Business Management program was shut down abruptly — mid-semester, no warning — and landed at EDI a month behind everyone else. My batchmates were largely from Gujarat and Rajasthan. I was the metro kid who’d moved through three schools, two colleges, carried an iPod everywhere, and had opinions about music and books that nobody particularly shared. Many were conservative in their worldview. I was not. Close bonds never quite materialised.

But I was friendly with everyone, and I genuinely loved my time there. A year full of memories — nearly engineering a mass bunk, riding to Nasik, a fashion show, standing up to a director whose idea of running a co-ed college was to fire anyone caught talking to the opposite gender, and my first taste of Chicken à la Kiev at the mess. I had my bike shipped from Bangalore to Ahmedabad just so I’d have my freedom. That says everything about the kind of person I am.

Post-Graduation: The Usual Silence

Life happened. The WhatsApp group kept itself busy with birthday wishes and banter, but little else. People in Bangalore made plans to meet. Those plans never survived contact with reality.

I did manage a few meaningful connections along the way — Punit, Suhas, and Vijay Gupta during my epic Bullet 500 ride from Ahmedabad to Chandigarh. Haneel once, when he was at the Ritz Carlton. And Aadil Bandukwala — brilliant guy, who went on to become something of a marketing legend at HackerRank — is now someone you catch on podcasts and LinkedIn rather than over a meal.

Then, five or six years ago, the EDI Alumni Association formed. One big WhatsApp group. Four well-attended meetups, each one generating enough FOMO in the aftermath to make you regret not being there. I watched from the sidelines, still unsure whether I’d “fit.”

Last year, they formed regional chapters. I went to a small Bangalore meetup on a whim. Met some remarkable entrepreneurs — young, seasoned, some running NGOs with extraordinary work — and realised I’d been living under a rock for twenty years.

The Push to Jaipur

This year, the Alumni President was one of our own — Vishal Modi, Batch 7. Over three years, he’d worked his way from Treasurer to VP to President, and quietly transformed the community. An alumni app. Life event announcements. Birthday shoutouts. Initiatives that actually made people feel connected.

When he messaged about Synergy 2026, I was intrigued. Then Harish Belli — Batch 4, Bangalore, someone I’d met at the regional meetup — pinged me separately and pushed me to come to Jaipur.

I’ve been the outcast long enough. I told myself: the first step to becoming “in-cast” is making the effort. I booked my flights on a whim.

A week before the event, I read that Vishal’s father had passed. Heavy news. And yet, his team carried forward everything he’d built.

Arrival: Dull Skies, Warm Faces

A 2.5-hour flight to Jaipur, dull and cloudy, the kind of weather that matches airport anxiety. I had quietly hoped for some sort of reception — batchmates had already checked in — but instead, the hotel received me. Unfamiliar faces. Standard check-in.

I dropped my bags, found the restaurant, and walked into a sea of surprised, happy faces. The feeling was mutual.

Lunch was vegetarian. I assumed the hotel had a policy, or the organisers had decided so. Rahul Anand — pure Dilli Boy — had other ideas. Brief hunger strike. Result: very good chicken curry. I promptly had a second lunch.

Nahargarh: Buses, Bhutta, and Banter

After a short rest, three buses waited at the gate to take us to Nahargarh Fort. Vijay Gupta arrived just in time. Rahul, fashionably late, joined us outside.

I gave up bus travel years ago — at 6’3″, no seat in existence is built for comfort. I took the last bus, which looked like it was on its own last legs.

Through Jaipur’s streets, I missed shot after shot of potential street photography — too caught up talking, laughing, catching up with old friends and making new ones.

We stopped at Jal Mahal — the palace sitting in the middle of a lake — for tea, bhutta, and good-natured nonsense. I got a few decent shots of the palace and a few more of the people around me. By 5:30pm we were shepherded back into the buses. We reached Nahargarh only by 6:30, which meant the fort tour was officially off the table.

We trudged the last kilometre on foot up to Padhao — a rooftop restaurant run by the government, with genuinely great food, a stunning view, and traditional dance and music to set the mood. The organisers had arranged Kingfisher beer and wine. I, having travelled all the way from Bangalore, was not about to drink Kingfisher. I bought my table a pitcher of Trippy Camel wheat beer instead. Miles better.

Dinner mysteriously went vegetarian again. A few tables, however, had wisely ordered mutton, and I shamelessly helped myself while getting to know the people around me a little better.

By 10:30pm, we were back on the buses. I had been awake since 4am. Between a car, a plane, another car, and two bus journeys, I was barely holding it together.

The Night That Wouldn’t End

We reached the resort. Got changed. Ended up in Ronak’s room for what was billed as an after-party. Deeksha (ji/ben) joined us, took one look at the room — no music, no drinks, no chakna, no mahaul — and very vocally pointed out that this was not a party. She was not wrong.

We moved to the poolside podium instead. A speaker materialised. I connected my phone to it. Music played, conversations ran deep, and time moved in the way it only does when you’re genuinely enjoying yourself.

By 2:30am, I was visibly fading. Rahul and I called it. I was woken up within thirty minutes by the symphonic sounds of Rahul sleeping. My AirPods, set to full noise-cancellation, saved the rest of the night.

Day Two: Talks, Takeaways, and Oorja

Suhas rang at 8:45am to warn us breakfast closed at 9:30. We moved.

The morning session was alumni introductions — Batch 1 right through to Batch 20. The range was humbling. NGOs doing remarkable grassroots work. Businesses running multiple units across India, some across countries. Entrepreneurs who had quietly built something significant while the rest of us weren’t watching.

I realised, sitting in that hall, that I had been connected to a treasure chest for twenty years and had no idea.

After tea, the MCs — Sameer Bhai and Deeksha Ji — recognised the session was running long (a significant portion of which was Sameer’s enthusiastic two-minute introductions of every other speaker). By 2pm, we’d shifted to rapid-fire mode. Those of us who’d missed our turn were called back up — I’d prepared ninety seconds. The room had bandwidth for twenty.

Lunch was hearty and, finally, included non-veg.

The afternoon headliner was Umang Maheshwari, speaking on branding. I hadn’t heard of him before a quick search revealed he’s a TEDx speaker with serious GTM and marketing consulting credentials. What followed was 2.5 hours that felt like thirty minutes. He kept the room alive, interactive, and constantly making notes. Genuinely one of the best sessions I’ve sat through.

Gala Night: Room 243, Oorja, and Absolut

Power nap. Freshened up. Left the camera behind — a conscious choice to actually be present instead of hiding behind the lens.

Found myself drawn to Room 243 by the sound of great music and loud laughter. Spent time with Priyanka, Yoginder, Varun, Siddharth, and a couple of others whose names I’ve since lost to vodka. Bonded over music in the way that makes you feel like you’ve known people for years when it’s only been hours.

We made our way down to catch Oorja, the band performing that night. Exceptional. The lead vocalist knew exactly what the room needed — the right songs, the right energy, the right moments to pull everyone to their feet. I did not regret leaving the camera upstairs. I did not want to miss a second of it. I also realised i need to invest in a 35mm F1.8 prime lens soon!!

Absolut Vodka. Copious amounts. Veg starters that were genuinely great, even if the non-veg options were missed. Dinner at 10:30pm — roti and another cracking chicken curry. The DJ took over after Oorja’s last song and kept it going till 2am.

Part of me wanted to stay till sunrise. But a noon flight meant a 9am departure, and I reluctantly packed it in.

The Morning After

Woke up groggy. Tiptoed out of the room to avoid waking Rahul — a dangerous proposition under any circumstances. A solid breakfast. A thirty-minute cab to the airport. A 2.5-hour flight. Another 2.5 hours home by cab.

Vishal didn’t make it to the event. His father had just passed. But his fingerprints were on everything — the planning, the detail, the community he had patiently built over three years. His team carried it beautifully in his absence.

The outcast showed up. And he’s already booked for Synergy 2027.

The event in pictures follows — most by me, some by others, all in one album.