Skip to main content

Tang of dried figs


A cartonful of medicines and medical accessories were being placed into my hands by the dispenser at the hospital where a beloved person had just undergone an angiogram when my phone rang.

'Benoy is no more,' the voice said stifling a sob.

Benoy was a friend who was my batchmate from 1975 to 1978. The friendship endured till his ultimate departure because he had a unique ability to retain friendships. He took extraordinary pains to collect the whereabouts of each member of that particular batch and organise a gathering of theirs in Kochi about a decade back. He made a data bank of each one's significant dates such as birthday, wedding, and spouse's birthday. He wished each one on those occasions at the WhatsApp group he formed. Every friend was special for him.

'I won't leave you,' he told me when I left the WhatsApp group which I found a bit obscurantist in outlooks. But I was adamant on leaving the group with which I couldn't identify myself. Moreover, most members in the group were uncomfortable with my irreverence towards religion.

Benoy found a solution. He formed another group of the same batchmates but only those who could accept any and all kinds of views and opinions. This new group inspired my story 'Dirty Saints.'  In spite of heavily accentuated personal differences, the members of the new group held together because of the unique charm that Benoy exuded. The group had an informal get-together last year in Kochi. That was the last time I met Benoy.

The tang of dried figs rises turns sour on my palette. That was his last gift. 'Let Maggie have a taste of this biblical fruit,' he said placing a packet of dried figs in my hands. Fruits from God's garden.

He was a devoted Catholic and I a proclaimed atheist. There were all sorts of people in that heterogeneous group which only Benoy could have held together so effortlessly.

It is another leading member of the group who gave me the heartrending news about Benoy's surrender to Covid-19 after a protracted battle in a Dubai hospital. My heart grieves for the untimely end of one of the finest persons I have known. I hope his wife and son will endure their grief with fortitude.

Nobody could understand and accept the entire spectrum of human attitudes and outlooks as Benoy could. The world is a much poorer place because of his departure.


Comments

  1. Yes Benoy was HE whom I loved than any other person in our group. Yes he knew it. I recall my memories of meetings wehsd on the eve of my marriage and his marriage

    The words cannot express the loss l have on his departure

    But we have accept it.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I know of the special bond that existed between you two.

      Delete
  2. May Benoy's soul RIP. When good souls depart, people like me also feel grieved.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Condolences on losing your friend. May Benoy’s soul RIP.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Adventures of Toto as a comic strip

  'The Adventures of Toto' is an amusing story by Ruskin Bond. It is prescribed as a lesson in CBSE's English course for class 9. Maggie asked her students to do a project on some of the lessons and Femi George's work is what I would like to present here. Femi converted the story into a beautiful comic strip. Her work will speak for itself and let me present it below.  Femi George Student of Carmel Public School, Vazhakulam, Kerala Similar post: The Little Girl

Relatives and Antidepressants

One of the scenes that remain indelibly etched in my memory is from a novel of Malayalam writer O V Vijayan. Father and little son are on a walk. Father tells son, “Walk carefully, son, otherwise you may fall down.” Son: “What will happen if I fall?” Father: "Relatives will laugh.” I seldom feel comfortable with my relatives. In fact, I don’t feel comfortable in any society, but relatives make it more uneasy. The reason, as I’ve understood, is that your relatives are the last people to see any goodness in you. On the other hand, they are the first ones to discover all your faults. Whenever certain relatives visit, my knees buckle and the blood pressure shoots up. I behave quite awkwardly. They often describe my behaviour as arising from my ego, which used to be a oversized in yesteryear. I had a few such visitors the other day. The problem was particularly compounded by their informing me that they would be arriving by about 3.30 pm and actually reaching at about 7.30 pm. ...

The Real Enemies of India

People in general are inclined to pass the blame on to others whatever the fault.  For example, we Indians love to blame the British for their alleged ‘divide-and-rule’ policy.  Did the British really divide India into Hindus and Muslims or did the Indians do it themselves?  Was there any unified entity called India in the first place before the British unified it? Having raised those questions, I’m going to commit a further sacrilege of quoting a British journalist-cum-historian.  In his magnum opus, India: a History , John Keay says that the “stock accusations of a wider Machiavellian intent to ‘divide and rule’ and to ‘stir up Hindu-Muslim animosity’” levelled against the British Raj made little sense when the freedom struggle was going on in India because there really was no unified India until the British unified it politically.  Communal divisions existed in India despite the political unification.  In fact, they existed even before the Briti...

The Little Girl

The Little Girl is a short story by Katherine Mansfield given in the class 9 English course of NCERT. Maggie gave an assignment to her students based on the story and one of her students, Athena Baby Sabu, presented a brilliant job. She converted the story into a delightful comic strip. Mansfield tells the story of Kezia who is the eponymous little girl. Kezia is scared of her father who wields a lot of control on the entire family. She is punished severely for an unwitting mistake which makes her even more scared of her father. Her grandmother is fond of her and is her emotional succour. The grandmother is away from home one day with Kezia's mother who is hospitalised. Kezia gets her usual nightmare and is terrified. There is no one at home to console her except her father from whom she does not expect any consolation. But the father rises to the occasion and lets the little girl sleep beside him that night. She rests her head on her father's chest and can feel his heart...

The Ugly Duckling

Source: Acting Company A. A. Milne’s one-act play, The Ugly Duckling , acquired a classical status because of the hearty humour used to present a profound theme. The King and the Queen are worried because their daughter Camilla is too ugly to get a suitor. In spite of all the devious strategies employed by the King and his Chancellor, the princess remained unmarried. Camilla was blessed with a unique beauty by her two godmothers but no one could see any beauty in her physical appearance. She has an exquisitely beautiful character. What use is character? The King asks. The play is an answer to that question. Character plays the most crucial role in our moral science books and traditional rhetoric, religious scriptures and homilies. When it comes to practical life, we look for other things such as wealth, social rank, physical looks, and so on. As the King says in this play, “If a girl is beautiful, it is easy to assume that she has, tucked away inside her, an equally beauti...