Showing posts with label back home. Show all posts
Showing posts with label back home. Show all posts

Thursday, June 25, 2009

Back Home

This isn't about me coming back home, I reached back about 20 days back but my story is there in the unpublished drafts and will eventually come out. This is about a friend who came back home after 3 years. S and I went to pick him at the airport and as we waited I kept thinking when was it that I became friends with him.

Sudip and I go back many years but like with most of my good friends I do not remember how I came to be his friend. I just know that he was my senior at MICA who was always sweet to talk to and had a sense of humor, also he would use my comp sometimes when he needed it. On one such day when he was working on my computer and I was snoozing, he had shaken me awake to tell me that someone had flown an airplane into WTC. I thought he was kidding and didn't want to wake up ... we had rushed to the mess (where the only TV except for class rooms and media centre was) only to watch stunned as the second plane went in. The two of us remember this and mention this often, its one of my few memories of time with him at that time. After he graduated I met him once in Bombay where he was working and I was doing my summer training. As I was saying, I am not sure when we became such good friends.

After MICA I was working in Delhi for a few months and he was also there, we would sometimes meet up on weekends, I would order the Aloo Attack pizza from Pizza Hut, he some carnivore option and we'll
eat sitting on the terrace of his home and talk. I loved that pizza, its no longer on their menu and a big reason why we always obliged Pizza Hut was that it was Sudip's client and he could claim all the bills! After three months I moved to Bombay and in some time he moved to Cal, which is where his family is and joined the same firm I was with. My Quali (Qualitative research) wanderings took me to Cal often and on the days we weren't eating at one of the wonderful places he chose, his mom would cook the yummiest bong food for me (yes, there ARE vegetarian options). She still cooks for me every chance and even sends food if someone is taking a flight to Bombay. One of the reasons auntie likes me so is because I eat without fuss :)

Oh and we met at a few domestic and foreign locales over the years for our office trainings and conferences, where we wouldn't necessary hang out together but would have a shopping stint or a walk or a fun conversation which kept the warmth in the friendship.

Another thing I'm not so sure of is when S and Sudip became friends, but they did and I'm even a wee bit jealous at times that they are so thick, he's my friend after all! S is someone who gets along with most people but he has few friends which he's close to and Sudip is one of them. I have a large number of very close friends and I'm OK if the guy is not chuddi buddies with all of them, yet its really nice to have that too. It makes Sudip, Praks, me and S this really cosy group. (I've mentioned Praks before but just to remind you - she's my batch mate from MICA and is one of my closest friends. She is a super-long blog post herself.)

Now, Sudip has had more than his fair share of problems in life and he's dealt with them with more poise than anyone I know, always joking about a scenario rather than feeling sorry about it. We always talked about everything that's going on in our lives and have always managed to look forward and rib each other about whatever it is. Three years back, to sort out some of his issues he needed more money and took up a job offer at Dubai. We met many times during these years - he's visited us, on both our visits to Dubai we've had a really good time together. He has remained a confidante to Praks' mother and teases my mom every time he talked to her. We all took a wonderful trip together to Bhutan with Sudip, S, Praks, Me and Brishti all having a blast of a time. Brishti is his adorable 10 year old niece, or now his daughter since the legalities are done. The trip started with one of aunty's famous Bengali feasts which had all of us panting like dogs with overstuffed bellies. So as much as I ponder, I am not able to figure out when was it that we ceased to be just friends and came to be family.

In the last few days before coming back he's been saying that he's had a good three years where he made more friends than he knew he would, he did well at work, managed to win some personal battles and lost a few ... like his dad. Now is the time, he's put the foundation and is starting a new chapter in his life.
Yesterday when he came out of the departure gate, he looked happy and moved at the same time. He saw me and said,"Three years ago when I went you were standing here saying bye to me, now I've come back and you are still here?"

For all my endless doubts and questions, this is an awfully easy one. Where else would I be? Welcome back.

Sunday, March 1, 2009

Sublime Sunday

It is a Sunday morning at home after many Sundays. I wake up early as the maid comes while there's still water in the taps. Then I read the newspaper, sit around for a while absorbing the feel of my home. The guy in the society who plays groovy music at a loud volume on Sunday mornings hasn't woken up ... or may be he's away too, I'm sure I'm not the only one gallivanting away. I don't feel like putting music on and destroying the calm. The sun is filtering through all the windows in all the rooms. Its all very quiet, the kind which makes you feel like tip-toeing and whispering even when noone's around.

S is still sleeping, he looks very innocent, not that he looks otherwise when awake :) Its the perfect kind of time to get back to bed with a book and that's what I do, stealthily, so as not to wake him. The walls are bright with the sunlight coming in through the white curtains and the room seems to be glowing. There is a slight breeze and I watch the lazy patterns forming on the wall with the sun, the window bars and the trees outside.

I am reading with my back to S and suddenly he turns in his sleep , holds me tight as if to stop me from going anywhere. With his face in my neck, I feel his breathing and keeping the book away, I lie back. Sometimes it so happens that even a nomad gets tired and finds the way back home.

I'm back.