“There is no friend like someone who has
known you since you were five.”
-Anne Stevenson
Our friends and siblings give meaning to
our lives. We play, we fight, we laugh- we don’t realise we are
making memories; we just think we are having fun.
But, some of them come with a special
purpose…
2nd
Feb 1992.
It was a sunny winter morning. I was at home,
when I heard some noise on the street. My curious 5-year-old self rushed to see
what that was.
“Mummy! That’s a big truck!!” I was
astonished to see the truck in the narrow lanes of her colony. I was used to
seeing two wheelers and sometimes a rare sight of cars. That was the first time
I had seen a massive vehicle.
I was born and brought up in Karol Bagh, the heart of Delhi. Karol Bagh is a popular place in Delhi
for shopping, food and Punjabis. I lived in a locality about 10 minutes from Gaffar Market. There were 2 lanes in the
block, with a park in the middle and kothis
on both sides of the lanes.
Some people lifted cartons and furniture
from the truck and carried that to house no. 57.
“Bhaiya,
jaldi jaldi karo! (Finish
the work fast!)”a man who looked my father’s age instructed them. I looked
towards him and saw some 7-8 people standing with him- some men, some women,
two little girls and a toddler. Mom told me that they had bought house no. 57
and were moving in that day.
A
few days later…
The wind felt slightly warm, summer was
coming. My brother and I came back from school. Our sweaters knotted around our
waists.
“Mummmmyy…. Mummmmyy.,.!!!” I cried as I
dropped my bag and mom came running.
Without saying a word she understood
that Ishank and I had been fighting. We were in the same school and with the
age gap of only 1 year we were both friends and enemies. He was chubby, cute
and had bunny teeth. Being elder to me by a year, he would want to set the
rules and I wouldn’t want to follow them. It was a task for mom to handle us
together.
“I will lock both of you in the
bathroom!!” Mom scolded us as Ishank pulled my pony tail again and ran inside.
Mom helped us change our uniforms and made
us sit in the verandah as she
prepared lunch for us. As we were
having food, the two new neighbour girls passed by. They were wearing white
shirts and green skirts and carried a backpack and water bottle. They were
coming back from their school.
After some time, mom slept and I
tip-toed out of the house. I saw the girls again, this time closely. They were
dressed in floral frocks. One of them drew something like a fishbone on the
road with a chalk. I leapt on a car and watched them.
Nariyal
(Coconut)” One of them, may be the younger one,
spoke as she threw a stone behind her, over her head.
I had never played this game and was
naturally intrigued. The elder one then saw me and asked me if I wanted to
play. Little did I know I would cherish and remember the friendship that was
about to develop.
We introduced ourselves and I told them
I stayed in house no. 55. They were cousins and the elder one was Vijeta, about
my height, brown silky hair and a clear complexion. She was a year elder to me
and was Ishank’s age. The younger one was Samiksha. She was my age, a little
shorter than me, black hair, bright black eyes and clear complexion.
The friendship that started at 5 years
of age only strengthened with time. I had friends at school, but Vijeta and
Samiksha were my best friends in the locality.
Over time our parents also got to know
each other and became friends. Soon they started going to each other’s place
and play board games like Memory, Monopoly etc. We were inseparable, as they
say- sisters from another mother. We used to look forward to evenings when they
would play Nariyal, Hopscotch,
chocolate and other games.
When it would be really hot we would
play inside the house. They would have meals at each other’s place. With no
cell phones available at that time, our Moms would know where to find us if we
were not in the park or the locality.
We made an awesome gang, with my brother
Ishank, cousin Manish, Vijeta, Samiksha, Sunny, Honey didi and some more kids. In the dark we would play hide and seek in
the locality itself and hide behind cars, staircases of the kothis and sometimes even terraces.
“Jaldi
ghar aao, subah school janaa hai!”
my mother would scream and ask us to wind up, have dinner and sleep in time for
school in the morning.
With best of times we had our own
arguments too. The favourite topic would be school. Everything would lead to an
argument- from mode of transport i.e. their Van or her auto rickshaw; whose
school was better- Manav Sthali
(their school) versus Cambridge (my brother and my school); uniforms- our blue
versus their green. We would fight and want to prove our things were better
than the others and sometimes not talk for days. I laugh when I recall all this
today.
We used to look forward to our
birthdays and wait for the gifts we would get and the games we would play.
Birthday parties were always at home with our relatives and friends. Vijeta,
Samiksha and I were so close that we treated each other’s relatives like our
own. My mama, maasis and buas were theirs too and I would address their chachas
and chachis like they would. I remember that Samiksha’s mom would dress her in
beautiful frocks and she used to look like a doll. Everyone loved her a lot.
March
1996
We were friends for almost 4 years now
and were inseparable. It was a part of our routine to meet each other. When one
would go to Nani’s place the other
would feel sad. But something happened in March 1996 that I wish I could change
if I had the powers. Samiksha was not around for some days and they missed her
in our games and park time. It doesn’t click you too much when you are just
9-years-old. You miss your best friend but then you have other friends, you
start playing with them and it is easy to handle. You know she will be back in
a few days.
But then I learnt that Samiksha was
unwell and had high fever. She was in the hospital for some days. Mom assured me
that she will be back soon. I didn’t quite understand at that time the severity
of illness when someone is admitted in the hospital. I thought she had gone for
a few days and will be back soon.
Our routine was going as it is, Vijeta
was there and we were having a good time together.
27th
March 1996
It was Ashtami i.e. eighth day of Navratri-
the 9 days of Goddess Durga. In North India, Poori, Chhole and Halwa are prepared and fed to small girls or kanjakein as prasad. Our gang of girls was roaming from one house to the other
in our locality and collected our Ashtami
Prasad and gifts. I used to be really excited for this day as the
neighbours gave us gifts and money. We would eventually buy wafers and some
small things from that money. Samiksha was missing from all these celebrations.
It was a weekday but a holiday for us.
After the puja Ishank and I were in Vijeta’s room and playing Monopoly. Most
people were not at home and hence her mother asked us to be with her and play
inside the house. Something felt odd that day; something was not right. We were
playing but mentally something was affecting the three of us.
And then we got to know why we felt that. We heard people crying. The three of us looked at each other not
knowing what to do.
“I.. I.. can’t…play in this noi…” Vijeta
stammered as Samiksha’s mother ran inside the room and hugged her. She was in a
really bad shape. Tears flowed uncontrollably from her red eyes. We exchanged
glances and our eyes spoke of our nervousness.
“Samiksha.. Samiksha…is no more….”
We were numb.
Vijeta’s mom came and asked us to take
her along with us. My parents also rushed to their home. The ambulance arrived
and brought Samiksha’s body. Tears didn’t flow for some time, the shock was too
much for us to handle. Then the first tear dropped and the rest followed in an
unbroken stream.
I had heard about other people’s deaths
but I had never thought that as a 9-year-old kid I would have to deal with my
best friend’s death. The next few days were difficult.
“As per Hindu religion the soul takes 13
days to leave this world and till then it keeps roaming around its loved ones.”
I had heard someone say this and it stuck with me.
One evening mom told me to go to park and
change my mind. There were beautiful flowers and I plucked a red one. Recalling
those words and thinking that Samiksha’s soul may be around me, I placed that
flower in one of the bushes.
“This is for you Samiksha. I love you a
lot. I will miss you.”
When I reached the same spot after 5
minutes, the flower was not there. I smiled and looked at the sky.
“God, take her with you, give her
home and bless her.” I kept giving her flowers and she kept
accepting them. A few days later, I plucked another flower and kept it aside
for her. This time, it hadn’t been taken. I was glad, for I knew she had moved
on from this world into the world that belonged to her. She had finally rested
in peace.
It’s been 24 years since
Samiksha left us. I didn’t spend a lifetime with her, but the few years were
enough to keep her in my heart for a lifetime. Her death made me learn
something about life- ‘Life is unpredictable. It is breath that helps you cherish moments as well as material.'
