And your friends will stop dancing the drunk-baraati dance.
You'll stop eating dosas at the stalls, and have reunions at fine dining restaurants.
Some of them will inexplicably take to jazz. Or feng shui. Or marrying.
Enjoying Govinda movies will be looked down upon. Or remembered indulgently with a "We were so silly then!" Some people will start throwing names of Japanese filmmakers around.
Cutting chai will be replaced by green tea. Chocolate (any chocolate), by hand-made chocolates, or Swiss chocolates, or truffles (what in God's name are they?), or -even worse- cream-filled chocolates where they bung in a pile of yellow cream with a 0.01 mm layer of chocolate to cover it.
Birthdays will become about painful (and painstaking) reciprocity, instead of show-up-and-rob-of-available-money.
Some will compare husbands and wives. Many will compare money.
Most of you will do all those things to your kids, which you told each other you'd never do when you have kids.
Some will unabashedly kiss posteriors. The rest will do it with some embarrassment.
Superiority and inferiority complexes will happen. Commonalities will fade.
I'm sorry, there isn't a last redeeming line of hope. Or maybe there is. Yes?