Skip to main content

Friends


There’s something in me that resists making friends.  Except for a brief period of my youth, I kept away from people as much as possible.  That brief period itself was the cause.  Those whom I considered friends were mocking me at my back.  When I learnt that I chose solitude except at the professional level. 

If people found me funny enough to have hearty laughs at my cost, there must be something wrong with me.  That’s why I quit socialising.  So it’s not the others I’m blaming; it’s myself.  However, I’m not wallowing in self-pity.  It’s just that I learnt that I wasn’t meant for being with people.  So I chose books as my friends. 

But there are a few individuals whom I can call friends with whom I maintain meaningful contact.  As meaningful as the relationship between Piglet and Winnie the Pooh:
Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind.
"Pooh!" he whispered.
"Yes, Piglet?"
"Nothing," said Piglet, taking Pooh's paw. "I just wanted to be sure of you.” 




Comments

  1. Sir, there is nothing wrong with you. Those people are truly great manipulators. That's just what they do. Only because​, they can't handle what's right about you.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Failing to learn the ways of the world is the most serious failure.

      Delete
  2. I agree. I do feel like I am at loss and do want to be like others. But knowing that someone else is doing just fine being in his own skin gives me a relief.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Probably it's the same reason why I took a liking to you ☺

      Delete
  3. Your insight into the social aspects, knowledge level on the topics you discuss, control over the grammatical English, keen interest to bring out the oft sidelined issues and boldness in calling a spade a spade are clearly noticeable as one goes thru' your Posts.. All these qualities together are really rare in a Blogger!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I'm indeed glad to hear that, sir, especially from you. Thanks a lot.

      Delete
  4. Well, Sir, I'd like to differ with you. Making someone laugh is quite a difficult task. I always fail in doing so. In my opinion, you are a blessed one. Also, you didn't quit socialising because, as I see, you're using the medium of blogging to socialise with us.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. The virtual society is quite different from the real one. Thanks for letting me know that I belong there fairly well. And the laugh part - my fb profile describes me as 'The joker in the pack'. ☺

      Delete
  5. Very sweet story of Piglet and Pooh.

    ReplyDelete

  6. Your blogs reveal that your friends circle is quite large. It will expand further when you consider those who only read your blogs but seldom respond!

    ‘Friends’ ‘meaningful contact’ are ambiguous words. But I am sure you have a larger group of admirers and followers than you may be aware of or wish to admit

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I really didn't mean the friends in social networks or readers of my blogs. Still glad this post elicited a comment from you.

      Delete
  7. I feel sorry for those people who failed to see the gem in you. Friend or no friend, I really admire you always :-)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks, Amit. Maybe I wasn't a very likeable person as a young man. Youth and folly go hand in hand as they say. :)

      Delete
  8. All are strangers until you meet them. All are friends until you know them.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Machiavelli the Reverend

Let us go today , you and I, through certain miasmic streets. Nothing will be quite clear along our way because this journey is through some delusions and illusions. You will meet people wearing holy robes and talking about morality and virtues. Some of them will claim to be god’s men and some will make taller claims. Some of them are just amorphous. Invisible. But omnipotent. You can feel their power around you. On you. Oppressing you. Stifling you. Reverend Machiavelli is one such oppressive power. You will meet Franz Kafka somewhere along the way. Joseph K’s ghost will pass by. Remember Joseph K who was arrested one fine morning for a crime that nobody knew anything about? Neither Joseph nor the men who arrest him know why Joseph K is arrested. The power that keeps Joseph K under arrest is invisible. He cannot get answers to his valid questions from the visible agents of that power. He cannot explain himself to that power. Finally, he is taken to a quarry outside the town wher

Levin the good shepherd

AI-generated image The lost sheep and its redeemer form a pet motif in Christianity. Jesus portrayed himself as a good shepherd many times. He said that the good shepherd will leave his 99 sheep in order to bring the lost sheep back to the fold. When he finds the lost sheep, the shepherd is happier about that one sheep than about the 99, Jesus claimed. He was speaking metaphorically. The lost sheep is the sinner in Jesus’ parable. Sin is a departure from the ‘right’ way. Angels raise a toast in heaven whenever a sinner returns to the ‘right’ path [Luke 15:10]. A lot of Catholic priests I know carry some sort of a Redeemer complex in their souls. They love the sinner so much that they cannot rest until they make the angels of God run for their cups of joy. I have also been fortunate to have one such priest-friend whom I shall call Levin in this post. He has befriended me right from the year 1976 when I was a blundering adolescent and he was just one year older than me. He possesse

Kailasnath the Paradox

AI-generated illustration It wasn’t easy to discern whether he was a friend or merely an amused onlooker. He was my colleague at the college, though from another department. When my life had entered a slippery slope because of certain unresolved psychological problems, he didn’t choose to shun me as most others did. However, when he did condescend to join me in the college canteen sipping tea and smoking a cigarette, I wasn’t ever sure whether he was befriending me or mocking me. Kailasnath was a bundle of paradoxes. He appeared to be an alpha male, so self-assured and lord of all that he surveyed. Yet if you cared to observe deeply, you would find too many chinks in his armour. Beneath all those domineering words and gestures lay ample signs of frailty. The tall, elegantly slim and precisely erect stature would draw anyone’s attention quickly. Kailasnath was always attractively dressed though never unduly stylish. Everything about him exuded an air of chic confidence. But the wa

Nakulan the Outcast

Nakulan was one of the many tenants of Hevendrea . A professor in the botany department of the North Eastern Hill University, he was a very lovable person. Some sense of inferiority complex that came from his caste status made him scoff the very idea of his lovability. He lived with his wife and three children in one of Heavendrea’s many cottages. When he wanted to have a drink, he would walk over to my hut. We sipped our whiskies and discussed Shillong’s intriguing politics or something of the sort while my cassette player crooned gently in the background. Nakulan was more than ten years my senior by age. He taught a subject which had never aroused my interest at any stage of my life. It made no difference to me whether a leaf was pinnately compound or palmately compound. You don’t need to know about anther and stigma in order to understand a flower. My friend Levin would have ascribed my lack of interest in Nakulan’s subject to my egomania. I always thought that Nakulan lived

Pranita a perverted genius

Bulldozer begins its work at Sawan Pranita was a perverted genius. She had Machiavelli’s brain, Octavian’s relentlessness, and Levin’s intellectual calibre. She could have worked wonders if she wanted. She could have created a beautiful world around her. She had the potential. Yet she chose to be a ruthless exterminator. She came to Sawan Public School just to kill it. A religious cult called Radha Soami Satsang Beas [RSSB] had taken over the school from its owner who had never visited the school for over 20 years. This owner, a prominent entrepreneur with a gargantuan ego, had come to the conclusion that the morality of the school’s staff was deviating from the wavelengths determined by him. Moreover, his one foot was inching towards the grave. I was also told that there were some domestic noises which were grating against his patriarchal sensibilities. One holy solution for all these was to hand over the school and its enormous campus (nearly 20 acres of land on the outskirts