Closed doors

It was a good game of Basketball. That was the time of the year when the pressure of exams were felt like never before in our lives. Every one of us had daily targets to finish in our subjects - one day it was Maths, the other day it was Physics or Chemistry. The last four years of schooling really made a difference in everyone's lives - from IX standard to XII standard. Yet, we all as a team used to spend a few hours at the playground. The games, especially Basketball, were becoming interesting day-by-day and were junior-pulling. Our intentions were clean - sweat and have a good game, relax from studies. Each one of us had different reasons though - a few were catching up time until tuition time started, a few were scared of homes, a few were expressing emotions of the classroom in the court; every day every one's motive would probably change. One thing was common though - having a good game and relaxation.

The kind of lad I used to be, I had different friends at different times of the day - studious when at class, naughty when at home / street, fun and joyous when at play and elsewhere. Probably I never had anyone so near and dear time and now, I am still searching. It is not a surprise that I had been investing time in finding good mates - forget soul mates.

It was one of those days were we had a rough day at school and had a much longer game of Basketball. It was a Saturday, I remember, one of those naughty friends who stayed right about the corner of our home, said that one of our friends got into an accident and is quite serious. Well, he would not lie after constant questioning - this one didn't too! So we decided to visit this bed-ridden friend of ours.

But what do we do, none of us both had an idea, atleast nothing in my mind. Firstly, I didnt even know how to react when he said that. And then when I did eventually realize his emotions and expressions, I did feel for him and for our bed-ridden friend. Well, this is probably new to Indian culture - acting American / British; whatever you might call, I for sure at that time didnt know how to react to such things. I would partly correlate to the cold-blooded character of mine and the way I was brought up in the initial days - emotions seem to me remote; in some things even today. I am cultivating it, I am getting civilized. But it was kind of so uncommon that people around me used to get puzzled for such things. There was one other situation where I was a carrier of a death news of my uncle to another uncle. I was cautious of not repeating the mistake of not showing emotions, but ended up being clueless butcher again. In the interest of things, I asked my parents how and when to give the death-message and when my parents clarified saying lookout for the right time and deliver, I did keep it in mind. But when I entered my uncle's house, I didnt know whether to say that immediately or not. I waited for some time - as if I was good at psychology, I was watching my uncle and aunt's mood, and then delivered; just that this took almost an hour - funnily I even had my food before then (what can I do, I was hungry too!). Well, then when my uncle and aunt complained to my parents, thats when I knew that respecting emotions was better but a death-news knows little emotions / moods of people. It definetely costs atleast one drama to learn something in life.

Well, the drama continued - me and my friend finally decided we should go with fruits and biscuits. Buying something for a hospitalized was no easy job, later I knew. This was the first time I realized I was visiting a hospitalized person - well not exactly but something of my own for the first time. Thus, there were so many questions, so many reasons, so many thoughts before we actually visited. It turned out that my friend was hospitalized for appendicitis - still who knew what that was even when you heard such a name; medical taxonomy was a foreign language for computer students was a reason to escape such situations. Still, my inquisitiveness made me understand that term from my bed-ridden friend. I was told, biscuits should not be taken but oranges are okay. Well, when you understand appendicitis, you would obviously know about post operative care; for us neither helped at that age. Some of the reasons could be that I was not inquisitive enough or probably because of the family tree I belong had less trace of medicinal history - I learn from my parents. That cannot be an excuse, I know, and so I started learning tough and frequently used medicinal terms.

You get to learn, when you experience atleast one drama that teaches you a lesson. It was the visit of us to the bed-ridden friend that taught us that friendship had closed doors too. One of the reasons for me to visit my friend was to have him a good friend. But that was partly invalid, as the capacity of our relationship over the years never grew - atleast it still remains the same, an ounce probably less. I can say that taking fruits to a bed-ridden person probably would not make a better friendship nor would any other approach other than talking / thinking in sync with a friend - in fact, that too sometimes fail.

I am still searching for friends, good ones, soul mates, for life - for open doors! I sometimes feel I have them right near me, just that I never realize them, realize when they are gone far away. I sometimes feel I have plenty of friends around me but none to talk to, sometimes I feel I am talking a lot but none of those are my good friends. One of my friends once said, his walkman (music player) has become a friend for him - yes indeed I started thinking cigarette butts are friends; thinking C++ and Java is friendship! A few of my friends have said that I am an open book - just that I feel, I sometimes am not opened. I never give up, would not at all - why should I? If it costs me my lifetime to realize an open door, I am ready to give it a shot - its worth it; rather realize the meaning of life than die of ignorance.