It was just another regular day. Not a dreary cloud in sky.
Cheery, nice day. I still remember it as if it was yesterday. I went to class. I
was in High School. I entered the class and immediately found Goku (my best
friend) in his favourite place, immersed in a book like always. We had a little
ritual amidst us. He always reached class first and no matter how much I tried,
I could never wake up as early as him and catch the same bus as him, as a
result always reaching just a few minutes before the class bell rang. And every
single day he would have some smart comment waiting for me as I would enter my
class and I would throw my heavy bag at him. Regular friends we were you see.
But not that day. I entered, walked the whole 10 steps to my
seat, put my bag down and waited for the smart – mouth to put forth a mildly
insulting comment related to my inability to wake up early. I waited a whole 30
seconds. Nothing! This was a first in the history of humanity Ladies &
Gentlemen! We had been studying (and fighting) together for almost 2 years now,
how could he just deviate from our well established routine like this?
‘Earth calling Goku’ (His real name is Gokul, in case
anybody is wondering).
‘Oh, hi’ (back to his book)
‘All right there? Got a Prozac overdose?’
‘No. Just my father died’.
Now how do you respond to something like that. Not that I
had never witnessed or heard about death before. But this was too much. One
would expect the news of death of someone’s grandparents. But father is too
much for anybody to bear. Too much, too soon. This was not right.
‘Sorry’
‘Don’t worry; he was never much of a father’
Okay, so we were best friends. We did not grill each other’s
personal history like they do in those cop shows. Nearly 2 years of friendship
and not once did I talk to him about his mom or dad. We even had a few birthday
parties at his home, all conveniently on days when his parents were out of town
and so again, there was no need for a cop level grilling.
Anyway, trying my best to not burst into flames with shame
and guilt, I asked him if he wanted to talk about it. Turned out, he did. We
bunked all our lectures for the day and went to the nearest shopping mall we
had to find the quietest corner in the food court in which to talk about our
life journey so far. Turns out, his dad had turned alcoholic soon after he was
born and his mother died of child-birth complications. So he was being brought
up by his father’s elder brother (who had officially adopted him later on too)
and so all the dealings he had ever had with his father were a customary ‘namaste’
or two in various family functions. That is it. A whole lifetime of burden,
feelings, sadness, inexplicable tragedy and tears came out pouring in that
afternoon.
What most affected me in the whole episode was I looked at
him and our friendship in a whole new light. His experience did not merely move
me, it transformed me. Strange how I could find optimism and strength in a
tragic episode like this, but I did –optimism that this friendship is truly the
rock of my life, something that I never take for granted, and that truest
friends make you feel like anything is possible, they are the true angels
giving wing to your dreams. Suddenly no problem seemed unsolvable, nothing
seemed improbable. It is not something I can explain in mere words but surely,
anybody with even a modicum of feeling can understand this. I am sure many such
experiences are waiting out there ready to be unleashed in an avalanche of
memories. Try checking Housing.com if you need motivation to remember them!
No comments:
Post a Comment