Friday, January 13, 2017

The quirk of fate

It has been a year, to the dot. A year, since my friend Raghavan decided to press the button of the parachute all of a sudden, and headed straight to heaven. He had probably fumbled when pressing the button. Which probably explained the rather gory scenes.

The end was vicious, and totally unexpected. His family was hit by a meteor, as it were. All who knew him, were devastated. But, probably next to his family, I was one of the most affected. I was in the final stages of completing my Chemo regimen when he had died, and my Oncologist had prohibited me me from seeing him one last time, for hygiene reasons. Just 48 hours before he had succumbed to a massive heart attack, we were talking for 3 hours on the phone, and I was scolding him for not doing his exercises regularly, and not taking his health seriously. But then, he was gone. Gone, in a jiffy.

I could not see him off physically then. I am unable to see him off my mind, one year after. Not a day passes without remembering him. 

We became friends a quarter of a century ago. Through our respective professions. I had the chance to work with him, while he visited India, on a few projects. We had hit it off instantly. Both of us were very argumentative in nature ( I still am). Our vista of interest was similar, and so, we used to discuss, and end up arguing, on many of them. We used to talk for hours - in person, on the phone, and at work. But, invariably, at the end of it all, we used to smile and laugh the day off.

We were the bouncing board for each other. We used to share our thoughts, feelings, those dark secrets..  what real friends should be doing. We used to chide each other when we felt that the other person was doing something wrong. We were a sort of conscience-keeper for each other.

I still remember that fateful day, when Raghavan and I went casually to the hospital, in 2015, since I was feeling unwell. It took all of 45 minutes to turn my world upside down. When the doctor had broken the news of my Leukemia, Raghavan was the only one with me at the hospital. He had broken down inconsolably. He was a lot more worried about me, than I was, about myself. He probably thought my story was over, then. Little did we all realize it would be rather his story that would end sooner.

While looking for photos of Raghavan for this post, I realized that we had practically never taken photographs together!! I had to dig through my archives
for this decade-and-half old photo! We probably had taken each other's presence for granted. Probably thought that we were going to be around, forever, and never bothered to take portraits.

In anyone's life, people come. And people go. But there are a few who stay. A few, whose thoughts linger. A few, who leave an indelible impression, in one's life.

My dear Raghavan, dont ever think that you can escape from my arguments! God has given a few wonderful and close friends. He took you away from me, for now. But, one day, I will join you in heaven, and we can continue our friendly banters. 





No comments:

How can India aspire to be a thought-leader?

Two seemly disjointed happenings triggered this article today.  One – I was walking down an old alley here in Singapore, where a signage in ...