My attempt at tying lost ends

Friends play an important role in your life, and I’ve been fortunate enough to have had a very good group of friends. And I dedicate this to all my friends. I love you all.

Ever since my birth I have never stayed at one place for more than 3 years, as my dad was in the Armed Forces we were always moving around virtually through out India. There is no state in India which I have not visited. The only state where my father was not placed was Goa and this New Year I was there.

The best part of being able to go places is that you meet different ppl. You go into a society where people will be hesitant to accept you. I don’t know how many people would have had to face a situation where you have to prove yourself to earn respect.

I distinctly remember an incidence from my school days when I joined first standard in Bhatinda Punjab (Punjab was militant infested then). I remember the day when my dad came with me to the school to admit me to my first school Kendriya Vidyalaya 2 Bhatinda. I reached the school in a Jonga (an army vehicle fitted with Nissan 3000 cc petrol engine), accompanied by some 5 gun man; I thought I was James Bond. If I was James Bond then my to be class mates didn’t know that.

As soon I reached my class I was named Madrasi (a name I hate even now) and Kalia (Dark complexioned in Hindi). Well I was advised by my parents not to start a fight the first day in school. So as an obedient child I was chill (as we term it now days).

One week passed and still no sign of friendly gesture, my only friend was a guy named Mithun Regnald, a tamilian. I don’t know the reason for his sympathy I guess he thought I was really a Madrasi as he was.

Well I started to hate school and parents came to know that. That is when my dad told me those golden words “You have to earn respect to make life time friends” (of-course he put in a simpler way for a 1st grader to understand). What he didn’t tell me was the route to earn that respect. I devised a way of my own.

The second week of my school and I enter into my class room and a bully guy named Satvir Singh, calls out “Woh dekho Madrasi aa gaya”. Pissed is an underestimated description of what I felt at that moment. To add fuel a few gals laughed. My pride was hurt; nothing can hold me back even now if my pride is hurt, so I guess I have not changed much.

Walking directly to Satvir, punched him square across the face and holding head by his hair, banged him right on the corner of the bench nearby, the guy started bleeding like a chicken and guess what I had no sympathy ( Butcher? humm). Nevertheless I was worried a teacher would jump in from nowhere and kick my butt. Well my fear became a reality when our principal (a lady) came into the class hearing the cries.

Horrified she looked at Satvir bleed, she took him for first aid and then to hospital. After a few min my class teacher came and my dad was to follow.

I was no longer a Madrasi or a Kalia. I was known as Anoop. As far as my memory goes that was my first step towards making friends, a violent one at that. But never again.

But I was a fool not to have kept contacts will all these guys. Imagine how we would have got together, thinking about the yesteryears that we spent together. Analyzing myself the biggest drawback that all this shifting places has had on me is that, I am used only to short term friendship. If I am not in real time contact with a person I tend to lose touch, maybe because I am not a very punctual letter writer. This has cost me many good friends, Mates who have shaped me in many ways. I am trying to change that but I guess some damages made are irrecoverable.

I’ve been contemplating about writing something about this in the blog for quite some time now and maybe try regaining my lost contacts.