God’s favorite Child

 

Late last night, I got a call from one of my very old friends. He stayed with me for almost 6 years in Pune. He’s gone back now and looks after his father’s construction business.

 

There was a common joke in Pune back then – If Babu (thats me) asks Rishi (the guy), he will jump from our 4^th floor flat. And Rishi made no secret of his liking for me. He would do anything for me. And even though I had many good friends around me, I always knew that I’ve a friend who would do anything for me. He just couldn’t see me sad.

 

I still don’t know why he likes me so much. I mean I did treat him like a brother but at times I was mean too. But his affection was unconditional.

 

Even now, after 3 years, he’s the one who calls me almost regularly. At times he calls me when he is drunk and tells me how much he miss me and how important I am to him. Thanks to my busy Mumbai life, I hardly call him but he never complains. My cousin who stayed with us in Pune, says that Rishi thinks you are Ram and he is your Laxman (characters of Ramayana). I don’t know about this whole Ram – Laxman story, but I know I have a friend who would do absolutely anything for me.

 

And thats where I think I’m God’s favorite child. It is said that apart from your immediate family, if you manage to get unconditional love, affection and admiration from even one man/woman, you must consider yourself lucky. And by God’s grace, i’ve been very lucky to say the least.

 

Around a month ago, I got a call from an unknown number from Bangalore at around midnight. The caller identified himself as some Sahil who was working with one of India’s leading Software Company. He told me that he once played under me at some junior level National Cricket tournament and will never forget the support and help he got from me.

 

And to be very honest, I couldn’t even recognize the guy. But he was not perturbed by this and said he’d been thinking about calling me for a very long time but was not sure how will I react. But today he was going through some old newspaper clippings and saw my name as the captain of the team when he was chosen for the first time. So he somehow managed to get my contact number in Mumbai and called to thank me for everything (I didn’t even know what i did for him). He went on to say that he, along with few other guys from his town, has always admired me as a sportsman and as an individual. He thanked me again and said he’ll always wish the best for me in my life. I was almost speechless when he kept the phone.

 

And this was not just a one-off incident. Something very similar to this happened a year ago, when I got a call from this guy who was a part of some summer camp with me in Calcutta years ago. Though that time, I had some memories of the guy. He also thanked me told me how he’s always regarded me as a very good human being and wish the best for me.

 

And these are just few examples. I know so many people who love me and would do anything for me. I’ve not been a very good human being myself but I feel blessed to have such great people and friends around me.

 

I have always met great people and made great friends. Whenever I feel let down by anything, I have someone around me to pep me up. I have friends who know me for 15-20 years and we haven’t met for 10 years. But they still call me from all parts of the world. And no matter wherever I go, I end up making great friends everywhere.

 

Forget my school and college days. People say you hardly make good friends at your workplace. I can proudly say that I made great friends at both the companies I’ve worked in till now. Even after leaving Tata, I know I can call and speak with anyone there – right from the receptionist to the VP.

 

And thats why when I look at people around me, lonely and sad, in pursuit of happiness, I feel I’m blessed. God has always made sure that I have great people around me. And that why I feel I am God’s favorite child.

 

It was not about holiday

It was 6th December, 1992. I was on a school picnic to a nearby place called Rajgir. Everyone was having a good time there. Boys were playing cricket (in India, boys have to play cricket) and the girls were singing and playing other games.

 
Suddenly, we saw our teachers running towards us. They all looked worried and ordered us to board the school bus because we had to go back immediately. I was surprised, like everyone else. We were supposed to leave in the evening. The cricket match was also not over. Infact, even the first inning wasn’t completed. I was fielding for more then an hour and was waiting eagerly for my batting to come. But here they are (as usual), our teachers, playing the villains.
One big disadvantage of being in school is that you have to listen to your teachers, even if they are being unreasonable (take a vote – they would be unreasonable 99 times out of hundred).
So we all boarded the bus. And soon the excitement of singing and dancing with the girls overshadowed the disappointment of missing my batting. In between, somebody heard the teachers talking about the demolition of some Babri Masjid.

 
Babri Masjid, we all had heard about it from different sources. We all knew that it was the same thing for which a gentleman called Mr. Advani had toured the whole country on his “Rath”. It had something to do with pleasing “bhagwaan Ram”. And now, when it had been done (the babri masjid was demolished), we all assumed that “bhagwaan Ram” would be a happy man. Which was a very good news for all of us – afterall, its not easy to please the gods.
So we all started dancing and singing with joy. In between we also shouted the slogans of “Bhagwaan Ram ki jai” (we all learn that very early in life). One of my best friends , Salim Akhtar, was also dancing with joy. We were a happy lot that day.
I reached home late evening and saw the worried faces of my parents (For some reason, Indian parents are always worried when their children are out of their sight – even when “Bhagwaan Ram” was happy).

 
Next few days I didn’t go to the school as for some reason, all the schools were shut for a week. Now I was sure “bhagwaan Ram” was happy. How on earth do you get a whole week off from school? I was sure there would be more good news now when the gods were happy.
But it had to come to an end. so the schools reopened after a week (and to be honest, I was happy because staying inside your house for a week was boring). We all met each other and were happy to be back together. I noticed that Salim was absent. I thought he might be taking another day off (lucky him).

 
During the lunch break, we had this custom of having an ice-cream from our “ice-cream waale Khan bhaiya”. We used to buy 3-4 ice-creams from him everyday and eat them all between all of us.

 
That day, we didn’t see Khan bhaiya at his customary place outside the school gate. Few people were still on holiday, I thought. The next day, Salim still didn’t come. Neither did Khan bhaiya! Infact both of them didn’t come for 2 more days. Now this extended holiday thing was irritating me. You get your holidays when the god is happy, but why do people extend it further?
On the fifth day, our teacher told us that Salim has left the School and he will never be coming back. We all were surprised, and sad to an extent. And when we didn’t see khan bhaiya during the lunch break again, I couldn’t help but ask our gatekeeper if he knew about his holiday plans. It was then that the gate keeper told us that Khan Bhaiya, along with his wife and two children, was killed in the riot that broke out after the Babri masjid was demolished.
We were shattered. How on earth could something like happen? It was supposed to be a good thing. God was happy because of it and it was about fun and holidays. Why was he killed?

 
That day when I went home, I asked my parents. They had no answers. For some reason, I cried for hours in front of them. I still couldn’t understand why it happened. I was not even sure if “Bhagwaan Ram” was happy about it. Then why did it happen? Nobody had any answer. My best friend was missing and Khan bhaiya was killed with his family but I didn’t know why.
More then 15 years after the Babri masjid was demolished, I still think about Salim and Khan bhaiya. I still don’t know why it happened. I still don’t what happened to Salim or why was Khan Bhaiya killed, or for that matter, why was the masjid demolished?

 
Maybe, someday, if I meet the the tagodias or the Singhals or the advanis or the Imams of the world, I’ll ask them for an answer. Maybe, they will give me an answer. As of now, I still don’t know why it happened. All I know is my best friend went missing and Khan bahiya along with his family was killed because Babri masjid was demolished on 6th December, 1992, and it was definitely not about holidays.