MY LAST MEETING WITH MY BEST FRIEND..

Part I: Introduction

This is a story of two friends. Long time ago, Harsh and Siddhartha were studying in a boarding school at Shimla. Here is the story from Harsh ‘s point of view. Me and Sidd met in this boarding school at Shimla. We were both of the same age. I was serious and studious. On the other hand Sidd was mischievous, fun-loving and full of life. I came from a middle class family; my father was a Principal in a government higher secondary school at Uttaranchal. He wanted his son to be a success one day. So he took pains to cut down his luxuries to bring up his son in a good school like this away from home. He was a man of strong principles. All my life I have learnt to live by the small means I was provided with, and dreamt of living up to the expectations of my parents. On the contrary, Sidd came from an affluent background where he and his family had never compromised on anything they wanted. His father was a rich businessman in Delhi. He wanted Sidd to finish his school and join him in their family business.But there was something else in our destinies. Both of us wanted to see our parents happy but somewhere down the line I had this strong inclination towards music. I wanted to be a musician. Sometimes I would compose few lines inspired by the beauty of the hills and nature and give it a tune and sing it to myself. On the other hand Sidd was very fond of gadgets, cars and machinery. He never wanted to do business in his life. He never missed any article of a newly released machine. I was the one to finish the homework and he always used to copy it from me before dawn. We were different in our own ways but somewhere our chords sang the same tune.

Despite our many differences we were the best of friends and wanted to live together ever after. We shared the same room in our hostel till we finished our schooling. We used to study together, play together, eat together and even fell for the same girl in our class. It was a funny incident. We were in class 9 at that time and this girl had recently joined our school. We were at the height of our imaginations in those days. Most of our time was spent reading Mills & Boons under the bed cover. We spent a lot of money on batteries in those days; we needed them to read M&B late at night when the lights of the rooms were switched off. Pallavi, as her name was, was no less than any M&B heroine. Pink skin, straight hip-length black hair, pink lips, dark eyes, tall figure but a little over weight which we didn’t mind, after all real life heroines can’t be completely like those between M&B covers. We both had a soft-corner for this girl but we never shared it with each other. I was a meek person and perhaps the last one to propose to someone like her. Meanwhile, I also noticed some changes in Sidd’s behaviour. He was more into studies. He finished all his homework before time so that he could help out the new girl with his notes. One day late at night after dinner I told Sidd that I had a strange feeling in my heart about someone and maybe I was in love. He confessed he was in love too. And we both curiously asked our beloved’s name and guess what?? It was PALLAVI!! Huh! We laughed and laughed that night, and we both sacrificed our first love for each other. Sometimes too much friendship is harmful, we both realized that day.

On my 14th birthday I got the best gift of my life. Sidd bought me a fine red colored acoustic guitar. It was the dream of my life but I could never have enough money to buy one. Without my knowledge Sidd planned for the gift for many months and saved every penny his parents had sent him for pocket money. For many months he was not even buying any new magazines on gadgets. Soon after that I started taking my guitar lessons from Mr. E.M. Emanuel, our music teacher. At that time I had a strong desire to gift my friend the best car in the world one day. Those are loving memories.


Part II: Our first meeting after we left school.

We finished our school and promised to keep in touch. In those days Internet was not there and phones-calls were expensive. The best means to remain in touch were letters. We exchanged letters for many years. I got admission in BA (Music hons) in a college of Uttaranchal. My father disapproved of my decision of taking music as career. He said it had no future, but all those technical books were not meant for me. I found solace in music and I listened to my heart. From one of Sidd’s letter I gathered that he got admission in some engineering college in Delhi. I always knew he will make a good engineer. We went our different ways. I finished my studies and tried my luck in a musical band. Soon things fell apart, and I started singing in clubs and small gatherings to survive. But I was happy with what I could make at the end of the day.Years passed; I was in touch with Sidd through mails. In one of his letters he said he met a girl at his work place and soon they were going to be married. He was a successful man now. For me life was a continuous struggle. It was for ever a fight to survive. By this time I was also married but life was not easy for me. There was an extra mouth to feed but little money. Time passed; off late mails were exchanged after long gaps, as we were both busy with our lives.

Then one day in the month of June I was heading to Delhi for a musical concert. I didn’t have any reservation but I had to reach there by next day. I was in the station in the tatkaal queue to make a quick reservation but unfortunately I didn’t get one. To my surprise I heard someone calling my name and it was Sidd! I was utterly surprised and amused. We hugged and greeted each other. After all we were meeting after 10 long years. He had changed a lot. He was grown into a man, tall and stout, with a bushy moustache wearing jeans and a red T-Shirt. We sat in the railway cafeteria and chatted for a long time. I told him how urgent it was for me to reach Delhi and to my surprise he took out a ticket to Delhi from his pocket and asked me to travel by it. He said he came here to finish some project and was due to return today. But he had to prolong his stay because his work was not done. He gave his phone number (some 10 digits mobile number) and I kept it in my side bag. Soon after that the train arrived in the platform and I boarded it. The train started and we waved at each other. I was quite relaxed to see my best friend happy. My memories were revived. Thinking of old days I fell fast asleep. Sometime in the middle of the night I woke up for water. The train had stopped at a station. Hawkers were moving in and out of the compartment. I found no water in my bottle, so I got down to refill it. The tap was little distant from my compartment ( I was traveling in S12, the last compartment). I got down to fill my bottle and to my dismay the train started. I didn’t realize it until it was too late and I could not board the train. Alas! I missed the it with all my luggage including Sidd’s phone number.

I sat on the platform and cursed my luck. I cried and then decided to wait till morning for my next move. Suddenly there was a rush all over. The train I had missed was derailed somewhere 56 km from there. Almost everyone from coach numbers S10, S11 and S12 were dead. A shock ran through my veins. I thanked God for saving my friends life. Had he not given the ticket to me he would have died today. Maybe nobody cared about my death but his life was important.

Part III: Our Second meeting

It has been many years. I was 38 then. Things were not same as before. People knew me as a small time guitarist by now. I had made a small fortune. My father died after 3 heart attacks some 3 years back. My wife left me long time ago as she could not afford to live without luxury. She took a job in Mumbai and was living in an apartment provided by her office. I never heard from her since she left. I had no contact with Sidd, either, as he never replied to my mails and I had lost his phone number. I missed him very much. For a change I decided to visit Shimla with my mother for a week. Without wasting time we headed for Shimla. I was back into life. The scenic beauty of Shimla, the unforgettable memories of childhood revived me. I wanted to live again. I missed Sidd very much. One morning I was browsing some old cd’s and cassettes in a local music shop and suddenly I saw Sidd again. I was overwhelmed. Finding my lost friend like this in the lap of the hills was the last thing I expected. We hugged with joy and love. I was surprised to see him look very young. He was looking not a day older than when I had seen him last. I asked him the reason of his youth and charm. He said peace of mind. Yes peace is most important. He had a loving wife, children, parents. His life was different from mine. If I were Sidd my wife would never have left me. I would’ve treated my father in a better hospital. He said he bought a house on the hill-top, where he spends his summer holidays every year. I could find him in the month of May every year there. On asking him why hadn’t he replied to my mails he said he had shifted to Bangalore. So he never received my letters. I rode on his jeep to see his house and family.

We were cutting the edges of the narrow roads of the hill to reach the top. I asked him, "Are you happy Sidd?". He smiled and said, "Yes I am. I am free from all tensions. But one thing that bothers me is you, my friend. I can’t communicate with anyone like I can with you. I miss you. I want you to join me here forever". I smiled and asked "Where? Here at your new house?"He replied, "Yes right here right now".I asked, "What about your wife? She hardly knows me. Won’t she oppose to this idea?""No she won’t come between us. She is happy with her life and kids".Then suddenly my mobile (by this time I had a mobile of my own) rang. It was from Shimla general hospital. Mother was sick, the hotel guys had admitted her to the hospital and gathered my phone number from the log book and rang me up. I explained to Sidd and made an excuse. I reached the hospital and found my mom stable. She was not keeping well for many days and maybe this weather didn’t suit her. I decided to return next day. Next morning I heard from the locals that there was a landslide on the way to hill-top. There were a few people who died and there was no communication between the two sides. I hoped my friend was all right. I called him at his mobile but the network was down. All communications were detached. I prayed to God for his safety and left Shimla with my mother.


Part IV: Our last Meeting

I wam 48 now. At 48 I look no less than 55. My mother is no more. I don’t enjoy playing guitar anymore. I am not keeping well from quite some time. I have lost a lot of weight. I have very little hair left on my skull and whatever remain are turning grey very fast. From quite some time I am suffering from cough and cold. It seems as if this cough will go with my last breath. Today I have fever and I am feeling very weak. No one is here to cook at home. The milkman returned as I couldn’t get up from bed early in the morning. I miss Sidd. It seems I made a mistake while taking down his number. Every time I call, a lady speaks from the other side "The number you have dialed is incorrect. Please check the number". I am fed up of listening to this voice and I have no clue. Someone knocks at the door. Who can it be? Newspaper wallah or maybe Kamla (my maid) has come. I gather all my strength to get up from the bed as I have to let the maid in, who will cook for me. I open the door and I am most surprised to see Sidd again. Forever young and handsome.

I laugh and ask him, "How do you always meet me when I think of you from the bottom of my heart?".He replies "I am in your heart dear, now don’t leave me alone this time". We hold each others hand and walk across the aisle together. Suddenly I hear a cry. Who is this? It is Kamla. And why is she crying? She is running out of my house? What did she see there? I go inside with Sidd besides me and I am astonished to see myself lying on the bed. I am confused. I don’t understand.
Then Sidd says, "You’ve left your body my dear. And this is the truth."
He continues, "I left this world a long time back. After that I came thrice to take you with me. Remember the first time I gave you a ticket to Delhi. I knew the train was going to derail. But it was your desire to survive, you escaped. The second time I came to take you at Shimla. But then you had to live to take care of your ailing mother. I let you go. But my friend this time I saw the desire of death in your eyes and how easily you held my hands this last time. Now don’t leave me ever my Friend. You are the only person I can connect to, My best Friend".

Madhurima Acharya
25th June' 07