Reunion 2020

As always, my luggage was the last to arrive in the baggage claim area. After collecting it, I made my way out of the Dabolim airport and got into a waiting taxi. I immediately got into flashback mode as to how after six months of planning, we were finally going to have another reunion. I had been pressing for The Andamans as the venue, but it didn’t manage enough nods. The ill-effects of democracy are everywhere! But then, when it is Goa, the electorate doesn’t complain. The tough part was keeping the wives out of the plan. Some people had actually even wanted their wives to come. In the end, common sense had prevailed.

My reverie was broken as the mobile rang. The name flashing on the screen automatically put a smile on my face. Before I had the chance to say Hello, a voice said in an unmistakable tone, “Kahan hai tu?”. 57 seconds and 6 questions later, I hung up only to realize the smile had only grown. Boy, this was going to be fun! The taxi sped past a ground where half-naked children were playing cricket. After three successive World Cup wins, cricket had surpassed football in terms of popularity in Goa.

I reached the resort and was greeted by a familiar figure at the lobby reading the hotel pamphlet in a bid to increase his knowledge base. We hugged even as he motioned to someone to quicken up with his check-in formalities. I scanned the hall and finally saw him. Age hadn’t slowed him down - it would have been a rather difficult task indeed. He slowly advanced towards us as I asked, to no one in particular, what the nurse must have said when he was born. “Good slower delivery” came the reply. Age definitely hadn’t slowed him down.

Together, the three of us went to the room where everyone else reportedly were; expecting them to greet us with abuses. Instead they were locked in an intense debate and didn’t even bother noticing us. It was evident it was one against the rest. Just when it appeared that the rest had almost driven the final nail in the coffin, something happened - something we have come to dread all these years. He nonchalantly said, “Toh?”. That was check and mate for the others.

Someone finally sensed the presence of new people in the room. Profanities flew and everything was normal again as we hugged each other. I mustered up some courage to enquire about the person who was instrumental in helping organize this event. I was pointed to a small bed in the corner where he was sleeping peacefully.

The evening cruised along; we were doing quite well on the ‘Bhasad’ meter. Two people shifted uneasily as the topic steered to some ‘jugalbandi’ which they had indulged in during one hell of a night, before one of our plays in college. But much to their relief, the door swung open just then, and there stood the last of the persons expected – a mere eight hours after his scheduled arrival. A gentle enquiry on the reason revealed that he had opted to self-drive a car he had hired and had lost his way.

It was time for dinner. For the next 15 minutes, everyone’s eyes were glued to one man as he calmly washed his face, then wiped his hands, then put on his contact lenses and washed his hands. Then he wiped them and put on his socks following which he washed and dried his hands again. Then he put on his shoes and – surprise, surprise – he washed and wiped his hands dry. After he was done with his drill, he smiled at us wondering what we were waiting for.

“Kitne lagenge?” asked someone as we were just leaving. Unperturbed by the reply, he allowed his hands to leave the comforts of his hair as he gestured with his hands in ACP Pradyuman style, and said “Chal”.

The night had just begun.

*****

Post Script: Was reminded of a text forward which Poonam had sent a while back, "Fikr-e-rozgar ne thode faasle badha diye.. Warna sab yaar saath hi the, abhi kal hi toh baat hai"

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Stay hungry, stay foolish

Well after the shock of the last post, I am back in this space. For those who are actually reading it (I won’t blame you if you’re not), don’t get scared by the title (it could very well have been a continuation of the last one - after all, the ‘great selectors’ did continue with the same team for the remainder of the series). Instead I choose to write about something, the very sight of which, even in print, makes the heart warm – friendship. Now, I know I am making a very controversial statement, but I stick my neck out and say that the same is not true for love – atleast not for everyone (well for me, it sometimes sends a chill down my spine :P).

Friends have always been the constant source of my strength. They groomed me to face the hard life by helping me brave the taxing weather of Jaipur - sitting in the canteen under a fan which never worked - when I could easily have spoilt myself by sitting in the comfort of the air conditioned lecture rooms or labs. They helped me become a better citizen by making me contribute to the government and the nation in a better way; after all, liquor has a higher tax associated with it when compared to soft drinks. They nurtured me to be better prepared for any adverse eventualities in life, by staying up all night with me, playing 29, at a time when I could have taken the easier route of studying to save my ass for the exam next day. Back in Shillong, they helped add wings to my imagination by providing me with ample opportunities to cook up stories to explain my inability to get back home at the given deadline. Friends, I could so easily have become a nerd had it not been for you guys. I’ll never be able to thank you enough in my entire lifetime.

We often take our friends for granted and either tend to forget to acknowledge them for all that they mean to us, or are unable to do so. When you visit a friend’s house and find your picture among others adorning his bedroom wall, why does it become so difficult to find the correct words to express how much it means to us? Or when you catch up with a friend after what looks like ages, why is it so difficult to tell them, in their times of grief, that you are concerned and sincerely hope things will get back on track for them? I guess, maybe because you know that they will understand. Well, you can kick friendship like a football and it’ll never break. Yet there are hurdles in friendship that, in retrospect, only make it more interesting. Well I’ve actually been involved in a physical fight with someone who is now one of the bestest friends I have, and had it not been for the timely entry of his driver, the world would have seen his last. Maybe a little kicking does friendship no harm.

A person who loses his wife is known as a widower. A person who loses his parents is called an orphan. But even the English language has not been able to come up with any word to describe the loss of a person who has lost a friend. I have also parted with friends at various stages - in my neighborhood, in school, in high school, college. True they were not the closest of friends to mean an end of the world for me, but it doesn’t always make you proud to end on a low. Although I’ve managed to reconcile with a couple over the years, but something always has the final say – my ego, the word whose spelling even a guy in the highest state of drunken stupor does not forget (some people will know whom am I referring to - sorry dude :D). Ah, maybe you shouldn’t kick friendship forever.

Well maybe as in life, so also in friendship – you win some, you lose some. The Geeta with all its wisdom says something which amounts to there are no friends and you fight all your battles alone. I have never been the wise types, and will prefer staying foolish and hungry for friends, especially if life is so much interesting this way.

To all my friends,
P. S. – I love Y!ou :)

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