Between The Cup and the Lip

We had met after 28 years, my friend and I.

My college mate back then, he was now a US citizen who had cashed in on the magic of silicon chips and was in Cochin to attend his niece’s marriage. While in the midst of everything he wanted to take a break and get away from all the hullabaloo; Bangalore flickered on his itinerary. So along with a friend he caught the next flight to Bangalore.

Why Bangalore, I had wondered when I came to know of his visit.

Then I realized East or West, chimps are drawn to (silicon) chips besides dollars. What do you say guys?

When we caught up in the lobby of Lalit Ashok, memories were rekindled and it was like the old times again. He introduced his friend and since they had a few hours to spare before their flight to Cochin, we headed to the nearest pub.  While we chatted over beer and whisky at the PUB WORLD, my new acquaintance told me that he was a painter by profession (I should have guessed because most of his face was hidden behind the beard) and pointed out that the mural behind the bar counter was painted  by him years ago. That was a pleasant surprise and as we walked over to take a closer look, some of the old hands working in the pub recognized him and exchanged pleasantries. To him this might have been the recognition he deserved for a job well done. Anyway it brought in a sense of warmth and belonging.

After the curiosity died down, we resumed our drinks and animated conversation. But our creative friend’s contribution was irregular; he was busy chipping away at a something with the kitchen knife he had borrowed from the pub’s cookhouse. And then abruptly, he gave me the piece he had been working on and said, “Keep it as a memento of today’s meeting.” Shortly thereafter we headed for the airport and parted company.

Some gestures though spontaneous leave a permanent impression. To me it resembles Lord Ganesha and adorns my home – a priceless possession. Look closely and you might discover something new.

Thanks mate, wherever you are.

Transformation

After a long time, I watched a Malayalam movie last Sunday on TV. 

The story – a social drama – showcased the pristine beauty of Kerala, the uncertainties of life, the consequences of childhood waywardness, and the comfort of marijuana. But even while engrossed in the movie, random thoughts of my childhood flitted in and out of my mind like fireflies on a wet, dark, moonless night. And as the movie came to an end, I sat trapped in nostalgia. Then slowly, very slowly I saw my present form beside the reflections of my past. It was that of a stranger, disconnected from everyone and everything I once loved and cherished.

I had turned into a recluse, fashioned by circumstances in the sands of time without my consent or knowledge. To me everyone had become a potential foe or a threat. And I had either distanced myself or lashed out at anyone who tried to come close to me. As I sat stupefied under the weight of the revelation, I wondered: “Would I be able to enjoy life once again selflessly in all its innocence, trust, and sense of wonder?”

Just like the old times!