H
A friend of mine once told - writing is like catharsis. I rarely ever write to get something off my chest. This happens to be one of those days. I sincerely hope I never have to do this again.
When I had just passed out of college, young, naive and clueless, I had the chance to meet a person. A good person I am glad to have met. He did not have a conventional degree, but was loads better than I could ever hope to be. And honestly - everyone is just kidding themselves. A vast majority of the Indian diaspora do not do a thing during their bachelor's .
He knew what he was doing though. He always explained stuff pretty well. He was really kind to me even though I was a dumb English talking weirdo. I remember my first day. After the introductions and tour of the place he asked me about myself, introduced me to the other two guys in the lab and made me comfortable. So comfortable in fact that the next day was Ayudha Pooja and I confidently asked him to get stuff for the proceedings. He did it too !! He helped me make new friends with the other people at the lab.
A month had gone by, with my new friends/gang - we were around 8 people.( we were a rowdy bunch, I was one of the craziest of the lot. That's where I learnt to let go of myself and have fun once in a while). We would take long lunch breaks of around 2-3 hours, talking, watching videos, making fun of each other - all at once. He would catch grasshoppers and terrify me by throwing the dead things in my face. I would retaliate by emptying a whole bottle of water right on his head. All of his long hair would go soaking wet :D
I once remember all of us taking a long lunch break, making him get us whatever we wanted - this was waaayyy before Zomato/Swiggy/Delivery-app-from-hell. He did that as well. That was a merry party we had. there was Sprite, and Biryani and Chocolate and ice-cream. And then we got hold of a box cutter and played around with it pretending to cut each other up. (We were weird). And he saved us all from the wrath of the authority figures at the place more times than we could imagine. Most of the times he just shouldered all the blame of the misdeeds and moronic things we had done.
All of us even managed to bunk a whole day without telling anyone and went out to a large Shiva temple and eat a hearty three-course meal. Then we all went out again - eating the whole day at places my mother would shudder to think of. I returned home at about 9 pm which was a serious first for me. My mom loosing her mind was just a background hum - I was content (and bloated - so bloated. We all cried the next day).
To this day I have no idea how he let me get away with screaming, shouting and jumping around the work space without saying a word - just bent over some book or fiddling with some software.
Boy I seem to go on and on!
He struggled with drinking . The situation at his home was less than normal, and in many ways he was just a lost kid trying to find his way in this world. If you met him, you would never realize it, because he seemed so normal. But there were times when this facade would break and he would reveal just how hurt he was. And he kept drinking no matter how much we told him not to. He was childish enough to think his sleep paralysis was some demon coming to haunt him. I didn't know any better at the time either.
After I left, (and most of the gang had begun leaving and pursuing full time jobs in the corporate world) we did not talk as often. None of us stayed in touch a lot, just the odd meeting once in a while.(This is how all promises work). We just knew he had gone deeper into the whole drinking thing.
It's just , thinking that I knew this person, and remembering our fun times together ? And now realizing that I can't just call this person and talk to him and ask him how he was?? It feels surreal. Half of me still wants to believe this was just a prank that everyone is playing on me. That they are pulling my leg. That the status I saw yesterday was just a joke. And that if I text him now he would laugh his ass off and reply back. That my friends would giggle and this would just be some big conspiracy to make us all meet again. But I won't text him because a part of me is scared that maybe all of this is true and that he really is gone. I don't even know whether writing about it is a good idea. What if this was just a dream??
I should have called him. I should have stayed in touch - it's funny how these thoughts arise up in our stupid brains only after it is too late.
I never really gave much thought to what happens after we die. But I sincerely hope he has gone to better place. He deserves it.
Rest In Peace Hemanth.
DragonRider
When I had just passed out of college, young, naive and clueless, I had the chance to meet a person. A good person I am glad to have met. He did not have a conventional degree, but was loads better than I could ever hope to be. And honestly - everyone is just kidding themselves. A vast majority of the Indian diaspora do not do a thing during their bachelor's .
He knew what he was doing though. He always explained stuff pretty well. He was really kind to me even though I was a dumb English talking weirdo. I remember my first day. After the introductions and tour of the place he asked me about myself, introduced me to the other two guys in the lab and made me comfortable. So comfortable in fact that the next day was Ayudha Pooja and I confidently asked him to get stuff for the proceedings. He did it too !! He helped me make new friends with the other people at the lab.
A month had gone by, with my new friends/gang - we were around 8 people.( we were a rowdy bunch, I was one of the craziest of the lot. That's where I learnt to let go of myself and have fun once in a while). We would take long lunch breaks of around 2-3 hours, talking, watching videos, making fun of each other - all at once. He would catch grasshoppers and terrify me by throwing the dead things in my face. I would retaliate by emptying a whole bottle of water right on his head. All of his long hair would go soaking wet :D
I once remember all of us taking a long lunch break, making him get us whatever we wanted - this was waaayyy before Zomato/Swiggy/Delivery-app-from-hell. He did that as well. That was a merry party we had. there was Sprite, and Biryani and Chocolate and ice-cream. And then we got hold of a box cutter and played around with it pretending to cut each other up. (We were weird). And he saved us all from the wrath of the authority figures at the place more times than we could imagine. Most of the times he just shouldered all the blame of the misdeeds and moronic things we had done.
All of us even managed to bunk a whole day without telling anyone and went out to a large Shiva temple and eat a hearty three-course meal. Then we all went out again - eating the whole day at places my mother would shudder to think of. I returned home at about 9 pm which was a serious first for me. My mom loosing her mind was just a background hum - I was content (and bloated - so bloated. We all cried the next day).
To this day I have no idea how he let me get away with screaming, shouting and jumping around the work space without saying a word - just bent over some book or fiddling with some software.
Boy I seem to go on and on!
He struggled with drinking . The situation at his home was less than normal, and in many ways he was just a lost kid trying to find his way in this world. If you met him, you would never realize it, because he seemed so normal. But there were times when this facade would break and he would reveal just how hurt he was. And he kept drinking no matter how much we told him not to. He was childish enough to think his sleep paralysis was some demon coming to haunt him. I didn't know any better at the time either.
After I left, (and most of the gang had begun leaving and pursuing full time jobs in the corporate world) we did not talk as often. None of us stayed in touch a lot, just the odd meeting once in a while.(This is how all promises work). We just knew he had gone deeper into the whole drinking thing.
It's just , thinking that I knew this person, and remembering our fun times together ? And now realizing that I can't just call this person and talk to him and ask him how he was?? It feels surreal. Half of me still wants to believe this was just a prank that everyone is playing on me. That they are pulling my leg. That the status I saw yesterday was just a joke. And that if I text him now he would laugh his ass off and reply back. That my friends would giggle and this would just be some big conspiracy to make us all meet again. But I won't text him because a part of me is scared that maybe all of this is true and that he really is gone. I don't even know whether writing about it is a good idea. What if this was just a dream??
I should have called him. I should have stayed in touch - it's funny how these thoughts arise up in our stupid brains only after it is too late.
I never really gave much thought to what happens after we die. But I sincerely hope he has gone to better place. He deserves it.
Rest In Peace Hemanth.
DragonRider
Comments