Dear Friend...

I still remember us in the first standard in school. You were among the first friends that I had made. We used to play panja or hand-wrestling. The meeting of palms, the tussle and then the struggle. I wonder if we knew much beyond the basic alphabet and the numbers but we knew enough to pick our friends. Over the next thirty-two years, our friendship evolved a lot like hand-wrestling - with a slight disagreement and yet, with a strong bond. 

I remember we had our school in the morning hours during those middle-school years. While yet to develop our thoughts, we had developed tiny bits of our personalities. An unforgettable memory will be how I used to complain about feeling cold. You used to give me your sweater even though I was wearing one. You had developed a selfless and helpful side to your personality for sure. 

During the later years in school, I remember you being particularly great at maths. Though we were never the rockstars of the class, you were known for your quirks. A peculiar gait and a voice that didn't allow you to be mellifluous. But we sang so many songs while banging our desks. Then there were those endless discussions about Doordarshan TV shows, Hindi movies and the plans to chill after school. 

Once, our class teacher had scolded you and, as punishment, had asked the rest of the class not to talk to you for the rest of the day. I remember you sitting alone on the school's fence. Of course, we had talked. I remember both of us coming back to the class with a smile.  Our classes changed through school but you were the thread that helped me with a sense of constancy. 

I remember your love for kite-flying, your mention of the friends in your colony and your knowledge about fishes. You were just so passionate while painting these vistas about things totally unknown to me.  

While the rest of us celebrated New Years playing cricket all night and dancing and following up with going home late the next day, you chose to go back home early in the mornings. You were always so particular about time. 

We ended up being at different junior-colleges but thankfully were together in all the tuitions. Better still, later, we ended up being in the same engineering college. Maybe it was an apt follow-up for those twelve years together. Indeed we turned out to be very contrary personalities - you were outspoken while I was reticent. And it was you who pointed to somebody about my withdrawn nature and that it is okay to be an introvert. You gave me so much comfort - unknowingly, and so easily. 

Though in different streams, we spent so much time together - at the library's footsteps, at the canteen and at the cricket ground. If there was any scope for our friendship to grow closer, the cricket ground helped the cause and I remember you being the one who had encouraged me to turn up at the cricket ground. The ground itself was so much about things that were not cricket - the endless jokes for one and the friendships that followed. 

I remember so many things you have said and only you could have said them. "People like us can either be a CEO or an office boy. There's no in-between." or your peculiar, "Keele pe daal" to the bowler trying to upset the batsman. Also, that inter-college competition when you used to say, "Sirf halka juice lunga" followed by having a hearty meal.

When we parted ways for our professional journeys, our talks were reduced to a solitary annual meeting at the college cricket ground. But your presence always guaranteed laughs and solace. 

A few days back, I came to know that you were unwell. But I knew you'd recover. It wasn't just a false hope - I had heard about people reaching the ICU stage and then recovering. But then, I got that dreadful news. Even by your high standards of being particular about time, you have left us too soon. 

I wish I were not the one to convey it to our friends. I had no answers to their questions. All I had was the void that your departure had left. I can't believe that your end of the panja is no more and all I can gasp at are your memories. 

Dear friend, someday, we will talk again - like that afternoon you were sitting alone on that fence. And then we will walk together with smiles. But if it is too cold, will you please lend me your sweater?