It is strange how few the people are, whom you remember meeting for the first time. And I find that these are the same people I ended up being closest to, or is it the other way around? This is a list of some such people from a land of dreams where we grew out of our boyhoods and walked into a more independent life. To avoid bias they have been introduced in order of appearance!
Like all my journeys this one too was not planned, actually it was a journey I set off on unsure whether anything would ever come out of it. So off I was to the city of dreams, of stardom and magic and as I sat there awaiting my turn, I looked up at the giant screen displaying various names and numbers, but I didn’t need to look too long. I didn’t, because I had it all written, filed and indexed with me (doesn’t sound like me, but its true) and so all I needed to do was cross my fingers and wait it out. Well, and also wonder why this girl, pretty and decent, kept giving me sideways glances. So, I turned around and confronted this shy yet bold female about her intentions, only to realize that she was interested in getting my numbers. The ones I had neatly indexed she meant. You see a terrible miscalculation on her part had led her to leave those clumsy spectacles at home, which had basically rendered the giant screen as useful to her as Harrison’s Textbook of Medicine would be to my maid. One thing led to another and this girl impressed by the brilliance of my indexed lists, or otherwise, decided to pick a college in a land unknown to either of us and we spent the next hour praying that the last two seats remain, and eventually numbers 68 and 69 on that June afternoon turned into numbers 7 and 19 for the next 4 ½ years of laughter and tears, fights and camaraderie and of course, forgotten spectacles!
So off we went, father and son, for a land that had been but a dot on the map, and were welcomed by a beautiful sun, a misty charm and serene greenery (how first impressions deceive!). After an afternoon of officialdom I was shown to what I was to call home for the next few years. And I was informed that I was to share that palatial room with a boy who I can only describe, then, as thin, with the thickest set of curls for hair, a pencil thin moustache, glasses and the shyest smile I had seen a guy give until then. His father, a renowned surgeon was probably the most unassuming man I had ever seen; a simplicity that over the years has not only impressed but inspired. So there was me, this assumedly uber-cool, Fergusson educated, city slicker with an ego just as big as my body was thin, looking into the eyes of this boy who almost seemed embarrassed to be spoken to; and then and there I decide that although I sign-up now, the first thing I do when I return is to find myself another roomie. So, we say our goodbyes, and although my father tells me that these are nice people, I return home with the firm belief that I would stay the least time possible with this simpleton (how first impressions deceive!) What transpired later between the walls of rooms 18, 6, 85 and 90 are best left in the caring hands of that same time, as neither words nor emotions could ever do them justice.
When I do return to college (4 days late of course), my dear simpleton is not to be seen. So I go scouting for people, meet a senior, commit the cardinal sin of asking him his name and almost get killed (thank heavens! It was Manish, or I may actually have not been writing this.) the next guy I meet is this lanky fellow with an extraordinary nose, whistling a popular tune, cleaning out his cupboard with surgical skill and joy. He tells me he is a fellow first year who did not care enough to go to class (this quality later magnified and bit him where he didn’t need it to.) I breathe a sigh of relief and my education begins. For the first time I am enlightened how my 5 ½ years are arranged into 3+1 (doctors never figured math), hear of subjects whose names it took me a month to learn and feel that I have met one of the most intelligent humans I have come across(how first impressions deceive!) I wonder if his whistle still has that same carefree attitude and if his songs still haunt you on a cool winter’s evening, with a cup of tea or two and like-minded company.
One bright morning Mr. Simpleton and me set out for class with the simple result of being late, the door closing on our face and being left to wilt on the stairs at the entrance. The cruelty lay not in missing the class but in missing the hour too. In this all too uncomfortable setting, stride in a man and his daughter and I watch her walk and wonder if she was walking, gliding or dancing all at once. Seeing our gleaming aprons, a golden smile flashes, introductions follow and Mr. Simpleton and me wonder if we could dig up the earth and hide in it when asked – “what are you doing here?” What follow are enquiries and answers, worries and assurances and an ‘out’standing relationship and that all 3 youth will cherish until time runs out on them.
Another morning, again late I am, but there is a buzz around the campus. Re-enforcements for a depleted millennium batch had arrived and amongst them is this towering 6’4” hunk standing with the wiry comedian, who by then had become the third prong alongwith the duo then popular as Harry and Arry. Introductions made, everyone a little formal, me as usual skeptical – the beginning of an odd foursome standing between Dr. Chitale’s lair and first year’s anatomical nightmare. With the passing of the years inches have been lost, maybe 4 or maybe 2 but miles gained along a wonderful path of twists and turns and falls and burns.
Fast forward two years, there I am in the ladies’ mess, a towering edifice of smugness as my ‘out’standing friend was the boss of the junior tryouts. There is an overwhelming smell of authority and frivolity permeating the air, as the Michael Jacksons, Prabhudevas, Sridevis and also the Sunny Deols light up the dance floor until; until this white lily just brings it all to a halt. She stands and stands and some more, refusing to as much as bat an eyelid, let alone shake a leg. So the music changes (on HMS) and yet the feet wouldn’t groove. The short fuse and the shorter patience in me have exited stage left by now and a few harsh words later there is an ever so graceful movement of hand and foot that reveals a glimpse of an underlying secret I would unravel later. I’ve had enough and she is relegated to the back of the group but relegation to the back of the mind refuses to happen. Later when a quizzical responsibility is brought forth, the white lily is suddenly all in bloom and the perennial college gardener is all too keen to intervene (still don’t know why!) What followed is a string of arguments neither won nor lost, stories neither written nor told, friendship neither reared nor torn, and a few years later – a love neither defined nor ….
I don't know if we still forget our spectacles on important days, or if we are as simple as then, or sing as carefree, still stand out 'tall' amongst the rest or are still stubborn and argumentative, but what i know is that love may not happen at first sight, friends do!!
