First, let’s get one thing out of the way. MTV is going nowhere. Last year, Paramount Global announced that in some countries, the channel will stop broadcasting by December 25. Millennials around the world dropped their TV remote in panic. Turns out, the company was referring only to sub-channels such as MTV 80s, MTV 90s, Club MTV and MTV Live. Regular MTV continues, in India too, though we’re not sure who’s really watching.

The channel has been playing here for 30 years. At its peak, MTV was that glorious spot that filled the years between Chitrahaar on Doordarshan and YouTube on the internet. How else were Indians to know that Michael Jackson was the monster all along in his Thriller video? Or that Milind Soman was going to pop out of the wooden box in Alisha Chinai’s Made In India? Or that it was two grandpas who were actually singing Macarena?

Right off, MTV was always more than music. For a generation coming into its own in the 1990s, it was a rebellious older sibling who spoke their language, played their anthems, understood their angst. Sure, MTV played rock, pop and hip-hop. But it also taught a generation how to speak, dress, joke, rebel and belong.

Mumbai writer Shubarna Mukherjee Shu, 43, remembers sitting in front of the living room TV in 1999, landline in hand, when MTV’s Most Wanted played the top songs of the moment. “My friends and I would be on a conference call, collectively praying,” for any song from the Backstreet Boys’ album Millennium to air. “When they finally played one, we’d scream-sing along on the phone. It made our day.”

This kind of magic didn’t happen by chance. Here’s how it all was all part of a grand design.

MTV India announced itself with swagger. In January 1996, Slash from Guns N’ Roses flew to Bangalore to jam with Indus Creed at the channel’s launch. Months later, MTV partnered with Michael Jackson for the Mumbai stop on his HIStory World Tour. There was an 11-city roadshow, MTV Get It, making stops on college campuses and getting a sense of what young India was all about.

“The Indian music industry was not developed,” says Seher Bedi, who joined MTV in 1995 as a producer, one of the first employees at the channel. “We had singers and bands, but no music videos. Outside India, nobody knew these artists existed.”

The team started from scratch, shooting videos, packaging live gigs, creating sets. “In that first year, the buzz was insane,” Bedi recalls. “Audiences went crazy when we just showed up to record concerts.”

The graduating class of Indian pop — Alisha Chinai, Daler Mehndi, Lucky Ali, Shaan and Sagarika, KK, Sonu Nigam, Euphoria, Colonial Cousins, Indian Ocean and more — all built their fame on airplay on MTV, and rival Channel [V].

“A R Rahman wasn’t known outside the south then,” recalls Cyrus Broacha, who hosted shows on the channel until 2008. “We were shooting Maa Tujhe Salaam in the desert, and I told him, ‘Bring that bag from the corner.’ I had no idea he’d become this colossal figure. Back then, he was just a colleague.”

International music was funnelled into simplified segments: Unplugged for acoustic recordings; Alternative Nation for indie and alt genres; Headbangers Ball for noisy metal and rock; Select for viewers requests. And, in a move that left Millennials ever grateful, MTV flashed the song’s name, artist, album and often the video director, with every play. What a time to be alive!

“The channel’s high-energy aesthetic left its mark on advertising, film, comedy, graphic design — everything. Show business as we know it today wouldn’t exist without it,” says Alex Kuruvilla, who led MTV India between 1999 and 2006. They called viewers the MTV Generation – kids who chomped on burgers, dared to wear jeans with kurtas, got bored in three minutes (the average length of a song), mourned Kurt Cobain, rapped to Baba Sehgal and knew the difference between RHCP and RATM.

India needed a little hand-holding to process these new sounds. Enter VJs (video jockeys), young super-confident Indians who dressed stylishly, had radical opinions and jabbered between the songs. It was immediately the coolest job in the country.

“Rahul Khanna was based in Singapore then, so Tara Deshpande and I were technically the first local VJs,” Broacha says. In 1997, Malaika Arora joined to host Club MTV and Loveline. The same year, MTV launched its nationwide VJ Hunt, and discovered Maria Goretti and Nikhil Chinapa.

“I almost didn’t go,” recalls Goretti, who was a model then, and got asked to audition in the last week of the hunt. “I thought maybe they just needed more people on stage. My sister pushed me. I won. It changed my life.”

Chinapa, an architecture student, had been hosting radio shows and live events for pocket money in Bangalore. He participated on a whim. “Anything that popped up, I’d try,” he says. He moved to Mumbai, started off with hosting Select, eventually leaving to set up the Submerge and Sunburn music festivals and shape the channel VH1 Supersonic.

The job looked like fun, but it was relentless: VJs shot links, hosted on-ground events, visited colleges, met brand partners and distributors, attended parties. The pay was modest; the real currency was access — to artists, to ideas, to a rapidly globalising world.

“I don’t think any of us realized how much impact we were having,” says Shenaz Treasury, who hosted MTV Most Wanted and MTV Chillout and moved on to MTV Asia. “It hit me later, when people in Singapore would recognize me on the street and tell me how MTV shaped their style, humour, even their slang, that MTV was bigger than any one show.”

In 1998-99, the channel went mainstream, including Hindi music in its programming. “While the brand’s DNA was global, everything else – the IPs, programming, the shows, the marketing was hyper local,” says Kuruvilla. “MTV took pride in its local successes.”

It’s most enduring hit: Bakra, in which Broacha essentially pranked unsuspecting folks on camera. No one was exempt – not even movie stars and cricketers. The MTV generation was fearlessly laughing at itself, at others, at life. It spawned 13 competitors within six months and ran for over a decade.

Broacha recalls feedback from an unexpected fan: “Someone called my landline and said, ‘Bal Thackeray speaking,’ He spoke clearly, in English, and said, ‘I just wanted to tell you I love this show. I stop all our meetings at 3.30 to watch it. Keep up the good work’.”

The channel took Indian music to the world. In 1999, Bedi was sent to New York to cover the MTV Video Music Awards, where A R Rahman won the International Viewer’s Choice: MTV India for Dil Se Re, the title track from Mani Ratnam’s Dil Se. “We shot with him across the NYC talking about his favourite places and music,” she recalls. “Later, we took Colonial Cousins to MTV London for the first Unplugged.”

Mini Mathur, VJ between 1999 and 2003, recalls interviewing Richard Gere at an Aids concert, stepping in last-minute to interview Deep Purple, and hosting Aamir Khan alongside the cast of Lagaan. 

“The actors were nervous – it was their first big interaction with cameras. I moved easily between English and Hindi, and Aamir looked at me with respect.”

Goretti recalls being part of Gaana Masti, which parodied popular music. “Cyrus and I spoofed an Urmila Matondkar song. We also did Koi Mil Gaya: Mini was Rani Mukerji, Cyrus was Shah Rukh, and I was Kajol. Mad stuff!”

YouTube launched in 2005, Spotify launched worldwide in 2008 (and in India in 2019). Music videos, MTV’s lifeblood, were now free and on-demand. So, it pivoted to reality shows. It was a new MTV generation, one that dreamed of making it to Roadies and Splitsvilla, who understood the power of their own stories and voice.

“When people auditioned, they’d talk openly about trauma – facing abuse for being gay, skinny, fat, identity,” says Chinapa. “We encouraged young people to speak.”

We no longer need VJs, handholding or a chance to speak. We’re doing it all ourselves, editing, adding filters and clapping back at trolls. But MTV’s spirit – Indian yet international, irreverent but honest – it will take more than a channel shutdown to stamp that out.

MTV India VJs who became style and cultural icons. (From left, seated: Malaika Arora, Cyrus Broacha, Maria Goretti, Shenaz Treasury, Mini Mathur, (standing) Cyrus Sahukar, with former MTV producers Seher Bedi and Preeta Sukhtankar

After four decades of shaping youth culture and late night channel surfing, MTV is finally turning down the volume. But while MTV channels abroad — its parent, Paramount Global, announced on Oct 12 that MTV Music, MTV 80s, MTV 90s, Club MTV and MTV Live will go off air by the year-end — prepare for their swan song, MTV India remains alive. The catch? Here, the music died a while ago, somewhere between the last CD shop and the first streaming app.

What it left behind was a tribe of OG video jockeys (VJs) who defined pop TV and then outlived it.

Nearly four decades later, the faces that once invented what it meant to be young, loud and slightly ridiculous on Indian television — Cyrus Broacha, Cyrus Sahukar, Shenaz Treasury, Nikhil Chinapa, Malaika Arora, Maria Goretti, Mini Mathur, and others — have regrouped for an encore.

There’s a reason for that. The nostalgia had never really left. Every time a former VJ posts an old clip, comments flood in. “If you grew up in the ’90s, we were part of your life,” says Cyrus Sahukar. That shared history still binds the old gang.

“Everyone’s in touch and hangs out quite a bit. It feels like home,” says Shenaz.

The old MTV crew have remained unusually close now that ‘home’ has a new address: Instagram. Under the banner of Bratpack Studios, the collective they launched in Aug 2024, they’re doing what they’ve always done best — talking, laughing, oversharing, and making everyday life look cool.

The studio serves up weekly drops of music, travel, food and laughter but, more than anything, the nostalgia of everything they once stood for.

Back then, each VJ was a one-person brand before influencer culture even had a name. Its hosts introduced not just songs but a new way to talk, dress and laugh. While Doordarshan gave you discipline and family values, MTV gave you Cyrus Broacha in a short skirt and heels who got himself waxed for a Women’s Day gag.

For Nikhil Chinapa, the architecture graduate who won the VJ Hunt, MTV was never just a channel but an awakening. “I’ve met people from small towns who watched MTV and realized there was a world outside their world.”

One was rapper Raftaar, whose mother pointed at Chinapa on TV and said, “He’s from South India, too, so you can do it.”

“I’m not saying I’m the reason Raftaar became Raftaar,” he grins, “but that’s the kind of permission MTV gave.”

That sense of possibility was infectious. “There was a guy called Vishal from Bihar who stole cable TV from a neighbour’s house to watch MTV and later became its executive producer.”

To Chinapa, that was MTV’s real legacy. “It became an accidental torchbearer for empowerment. Through shows like Roadies, MTV spoke about gender equality, same-sex acceptance, even abuse within families but never in a preachy way.”

Shenaz, the bubbly boho face of MTV Most Wanted, still remembers how it began. A St Xavier’s student, she was spotted through an ad audition.

“I auditioned for Club MTV... Malaika got that, and I became her stylist, and also Broacha’s,” she recalls.

Within months, she had an offer from Singapore Airlines, but her boss convinced her to stay: “He said, ‘Either you see the world or the world sees you’.”

That spontaneity defined the era — a brief, unselfconscious decade. “Most Wanted didn’t have a director telling us what to do. I just did my own thing... I used to shoot 10 shows a day.”

That DIY energy served as training for the creator economy she works in now. “I learned filmmaking through MTV... producing, editing, everything,” she says.

Broacha — MTV’s original prankster — was the accidental VJ, a theatre kid who nearly joined Channel V in Hong Kong before MTV offered him a reason to stay home.

“In 1996, MTV wanted regular guys. The others were models, too good-looking, strange accents... I looked like a boy with no hope... so I represented a lot of boys with no hope,” he laughs.

Looking back, he shrugs with affection. “Fourteen years at that damn channel, getting paid nothing; of course, it shaped me. Being MTV VJ was a badge of honour. I’m embarrassed to admit it because it’s such a vacuous profession, but for a little while, you turned heads. People treated you with a lot of unnecessary respect.”

Sahukar, barely 18 when he won the VJ Hunt, brought satire to MTV’s scriptless comedy. His Fully Faltoo spoofs like Semi Girebaal — a parody of ‘Rendezvous With Simi Garewal’ — famously outrated its source material. “Can you believe that? It actually did better.”

Could they get away with that kind of humour today? “Dude, I’d be thrashed. I don’t think Simi was too happy with it either,” he concedes. “But back then, people didn’t have an opinion on everything. Outrage existed, but it didn’t have an audience. It was freer. You could be silly without overthinking.”

Broacha agrees. “Before 26/11, we had no problem being on the road dressed as cops, doing almost violent capers. We did end up in the lock-up, explaining we were just doing a silly show and then let off without much noise,” he says about shooting MTV Bakra, India’s first reality show based on candid camera pranks.

That mix of madness and camaraderie became MTV’s signature. “It was egalitarian... There was no star system,” says Broacha.

Sahukar agrees. “It was a golden time. No one cared about algorithms or likes. It was about doing things that were fun and stupid and hoping others found it funny, too.”

That was before the music faded, and the idea of a “music television” dissolved into the endless noise of non-music content.

“MTV became everything except music,” says Shenaz. “And lost its niche in 2003–2005, when they decided, ‘let’s just go mass and do reality TV...’ then it became like every other channel and stopped being cool.”

After MTV, the gang scattered but never really left the spotlight. Chinapa built India’s EDM scene from scratch, Shenaz became an actor and travel vlogger, Mini turned producer and anchor, Malaika a style and fitness icon, Maria a chef and cookbook author, Sahukar an actor and show host, and Broacha, keeps tickling funny bones like no one else can.

Could MTV ever be rebooted? “It would have to be run by the youth again,” says Sahukar. “You can’t have older people deciding what young people want to watch,” Broacha feels. “It could have become some sort of influencer-run OTT platform... but we’re the ‘Last of the Mohicans’.”

And yet, as Sahukar points out, MTV’s DNA never really disappeared, it just moved online. “You could cut what MTV did for 10 years into reels and you’d have a full-fledged network. But you’d still need to build culture. Because that’s what it really was. Pop culture.”

Shenaz Treasury recalls a family vacation that she had taken to Singapore’s Sentosa island at the age of 12. Having headed into the ocean on a cycle along with her sister, she remembers having struggled to return to the shore as her father called out to her.

“My dad got worried because he realized that we were not fit, and made us start exercising. That’s when I was introduced to this world of fitness training,” recalls the host and travel influencer, who went on to practice multiple sports in her 20s. “Because my dad was a captain, I’ve spent a lot of time on the ship, and learned to swim [early on]. I’d pull off 40 laps.”

By the time Treasury entered college, she had a defined midriff, and was often picked for commercials. “But because I was always slightly plump, people would say [I’d benefit from] losing five kilos. I recall, even when I did Ishq Vishk [2003], Ken Ghosh [director] said I should lose weight because the other actress is so thin. [When I was younger], I took too many cardiovascular activities. I’d run across Bandra’s Bandstand and Pali Hill at noon, and also considered becoming a fitness trainer by certifying myself in step aerobics. Back then, no one told us how beneficial weight-lifting is. I wish I had [adopted] that sooner.”

Contrary to popular belief, Treasury says life as a travel influencer gives her enough opportunities to stay in good shape. “While travelling, I stay active. You’ll find me climbing, surfing, or swimming,” she says, adding that she also covers long distances on foot. “It is true that I love to eat, but I consume healthy foods. People call me a waiter’s nightmare because I instruct them to cook my meals with less salt and oil. I also don’t consume refined sugar and choose coconut sugar, dates, and fruits instead. Sure, they are still sugars, but I consume them because I don’t need six-pack abs. I just need to be healthy and feel good.”

Treasury also encourages young girls to avoid “hating their body parts”. “I spent my 20s stressing over my small belly, and no matter how well I eat, I will never lose it, unless I starve myself. Also, I was often [mocked] for my big thighs. I’d wear long skirts to hide them, and it wasn’t unless my first boyfriend gave me the confidence to [flaunt my legs] that I began to do so. Today, I love wearing shorts, and am thankful for my thick and muscular legs. Hopefully, they’ll take me through my 90s. As women, we tend to hate our bodies when we should be honouring them.” 

Being a “skinny kid with a big mouth” often landed Nikhil Chinapa in hot water. “I’d get beaten up a lot because I would say smart things to people. At some point, I got tired of being beaten up, so I decided to go to the gym to build some muscles. When I did that, I stopped getting beaten up,” he says simply, adding that weight training has been an integral aspect of his life. 

Among the most prominent figures in the thriving independent music industry in India, Chinapa recalls stepping into the gym as a 50-kilo youngster who struggled to gain weight. “I’d force-feed myself, or follow my lunch with a glass of milk. Initially, I found it difficult [to build muscle mass]. I’ve never relied on protein supplements, choosing instead to opt for sources that could be procured from a natural diet.”

As the face of a celebrated music brand, Chinapa spent most of his 20s and 30s travelling across places, and was fortunate to be “put up in hotels with good gyms”. “In the evenings, I’d spend time on the treadmill,” he recalls, adding that while he enjoys adhering to his fitness routine, he “did things in an ad hoc manner”.

“When I see how things have changed today, with so many fitness enthusiasts [educating us], I realize fitness is an intense [discipline] and requires focus.” And while an exhaustive profession like his can compel one to put their exercise regimen on the backburner, Chinapa says he was “fortunate to have good genes” that helped him “sustain my physique”. 

It was on a Roadies trip with co-judge Neha Dhupia that Chinapa recalls having “enjoyed” a yoga class. “I’ve avoided yoga for a long time, but I enjoyed the class with her trainer. Having a yoga teacher who you can vibe with is important. I started doing it regularly, and found that it improved my mobility, and ability to lift weights. Both the activities complement each other.” 

Maria Goretti says she set off on her “health journey” as soon as she learned to cook. “I have been trained in the art of French cooking. When I started to learn, I realized how unhealthy some food are. For instance, I would always order eggs benedict at a cafe, but after I learned cooking, I realized that hollandaise sauce was essentially [a mixture of] egg yolks and extra virgin olive oil. That’s like a heart attack [served] on a pan. While one part of me was soaking in the knowledge of cooking, another part was realizing that there were certain things that I should be eating only once a month,” recalls Goretti, who gained more knowledge in a bid to make “tasty, but heathy” meals for her kids. 

“All of us at home eat differently. Soup is made for my parents, while I enjoy eating vegetables. Arshad [Warsi, actor-husband] eats according to his schedule. I’m usually always trying to figure out how to meet all these demands. [For my kids], I make a lot of stuff with ragi and other millets, and ensure that they get [enough] protein at night. But, my parents don’t digest it easily, so I don’t give them protein before bedtime.”

Goretti’s nutritional advice is fairly simple. She stays away from foods that have a shelf life longer than two days. “Such foods are filled with chemicals that enable them to be consumable for long periods, and this affects their freshness. A lot of brown breads available in the market are not made of wheat, but are simply caramelized or artificially coloured. The safest brown bread that you can eat is a roti.” She encourages people to minimize using additional flavours while consuming vegetables because “vegetables have their own unique flavour”.

“Also, when I cook at home, I make smaller portions so that I can cook each meal closer to the time it must be consumed. I understand that this isn’t possible for a lot of working couples because they will end up spending a lot more time in the kitchen, but it was beneficial for my kids. Finally, preparing for your meal is also crucial. For example, marinating meat and keeping it [aside] overnight enhances its flavour and softness. Finally, I do not mix raw meals with cooked food. So, I won’t eat a salad that has pieces of chicken in it, because the digestion of both these food items is very different.”

She encourages individuals adopting specific eating patterns to be vigilant about their choices. “Gluten-free”, she points out, need not necessarily imply that the food has health benefits. “When you opt for gluten-free foods, you may end up using nut flour, which is not particularly a low-calorie option. We have to be smart about the choices we make.” 

Given that he developed a deep interest in the sport of body-building early on in his life, Cyrus Broacha says his weekly routines today “look pretty standard”. “On Mondays, I train my shoulders, on Tuesdays, I work on my legs, and subsequently train my chest and back muscles on other days of the week. I target one body part every four days,” says Broacha.

The host had first connected with mid-day to discuss how he was adhering to his regimen amid the lockdown, and today, lessons learned from the phase have encouraged him to adopt new practices. “I’m terrified after the pandemic, because that is when I saw that after a couple of weeks [of rest], it was tough to work out [at the same intensity]. I don’t mind training seven days a week today. When you are in your 50s, you have to use your muscles, or you’ll lose them.” 

Broacha’s passion for body-building is easily expressed when the subject of the training patterns of “Indian men” is broached. He is irked by the thought of listless “men entering the gym without the desire to train”, and refers to cardio as  a regimen that’s “ too boring for my mentality”. He gets his share of cardiovascular activity with fast-paced and explosive training routines, and chides those who “walk in, do some little stretching, and step on the treadmill at a leisure pace”.

“It’s not suited for the Indian body type. [Long-distance runners] end up with skinny-looking arms and legs. There’s no definition in their torso. A gym is a place where a man should train [aggressively]. It’s where a man should come to be a man.”

In the last two years, he has trained attention towards fixing his diet. “You have to think about how old you are. Once you tend to gain abdominal fat, it becomes hard to lose that. I don’t eat a lot of sweets, and don’t include carbohydrates in my first meal. When I have carbs, I consume it with protein to reduce sugar spikes. But, I will treat myself to them because I love rice. But, in the first half of the day, my diet is without flaw.”

Ishq Vishk (2003) gave us not only a fun college rom-com, but also a star in Shahid Kapoor. Almost 21 years on, its reboot Ishq Vishk Rebound is gearing up for release. For producer Ramesh Taurani, the Nipun Dharmadhikari-directed college caper is a means to bring romance back on the big screen. “Action, drama and [films on] the army have taken over. A young love story with good music has gone missing,” he says. Two decades is a long time between an original and its reboot. What took him so long to create the second instalment?

“It’s a ground rule at my studio—no reboots until the script convinces everyone. This film looks at this generation’s challenges in romance, the fragility of love, quick break-ups, and their behavioural patterns in the time of social media.”

Young love isn’t the only constant in Ishq Vishk Rebound. Like with the original, Taurani hopes to make stars out of leads Rohit Saraf, Pashmina Roshan, Jibraan Khan and Naila Grrewal.

“We wanted newcomers. Rohit Saraf has tasted fame, but this will launch him as a mainstream hero. We had five rounds of auditions and chose them. Pashmina was one of the 15 girls we shortlisted, we had no idea who she was. When we started doing her contracts, we found out she is a Roshan. I had worked extensively with her father Rajesh Roshan, but he never called, asking me to consider her. Neither did Hrithik [Roshan, Pashmina’s cousin], who has a rapport with me. Merit matters more than anything in this industry, whether you’re an outsider or a nepo kid. If you see from the ’80s to now, there are some actors who haven’t [succeeded] despite their lineage. With the original Ishq Vishk, we launched Shahid, Amrita Rao and Shenaz [Treasury]. Shahid is a superstar today! Shenaz was also flooded with offers after the film. We are keen to do more movies with these kids too.”

The producer’s team is currently working on a sequel to Bobby Deol and Preity Zinta’s Soldier (1998). “We’re trying to lock its script. Writing is a key element of our movie-making style. I’ve never gone to an actor without a script. Never have I gone to an actor with a DVD, suggesting a rip-off job.”

Not being able to recognize people by their faces is what loosely defines face blindness or prosopagnosia — a cognitive disorder that Shenaz Treasury recently revealed she has been diagnosed with. “To start with, it is nothing serious,” the actor-travel influencer tells us, sharing how she’s been inundated with calls ever since she spoke about the condition on Insta recently.

The actor, best-known for her Hindi film Ishq Vishk (2003), adds, “I just can’t recognize people’s faces, my brain doesn’t put faces together. I’d always think, ‘What’s wrong with me?’ But, turns out it is an issue. Even if I am used to seeing a friend and I see them out of context elsewhere, I won’t be able to recognize them immediately.”

One couldn’t help but notice how her post called for people to be “kind” and understand the situation. “When I discovered I have face blindness, it all made sense. I understood why I couldn’t recognize faces. I’ve offended people in the past. People thought it was something that I made up or that I was being snobbish or stupid. Even my own parents don’t believe me,” says the actor, who can pick up people’s voices and mannerisms. Mentioning how she has now learnt to deal with it all, she adds, “I just wave and say, ‘Of course I know you’ to everyone I meet.”

Has this issue ever affected her work life? “Sometimes it has, especially when I’ve got to host a red and green carpet. It’s been nerve-racking for me, thinking what if I don’t recognize someone? But, I’ve managed to pull it off. I just have a friendly chat and within the time that I’m speaking, I realize who the person is, by their voice,” she ends.

Actor Shenaz Treasury has revealed on Instagram that she has been diagnosed with prosopagnosia. She also said that she used to have issues remembering people’s faces but remembered them by their voices. In her Instagram Stories, she wrote, “I have been diagnosed with prosopagnosia 2. Now, I understand why I’ve never been able to put faces together. It’s a cognitive disorder. I always felt ashamed that I couldn’t recognize faces. I recognize voices.”

In another slide, she wrote, “Signs and symptoms of face blindness/prosopagnosia. 1. You have failed to recognize a close friend or family member, especially when you weren’t expecting to see them. Yes, that is me. Takes me a minute to register who the person is. Sometimes even a close friend I haven’t seen in a while.” Treasury is known for playing the role of Alisha in the 2003 film Ishq Vishk, opposite actor Shahid Kapoor.

She added, “You have difficulty recognizing neighbours, friends, co-workers, clients, schoolmates. People you know expect you to recognize them. Failing to recognize someone might make you seem aloof. Many sufferers report losing friends and offending co-workers because they have failed to recognize them. This is me.”