Seven months ago, one day, I sat at my desk
pounding way at the keyboard of my computer. I was writing a common mail to my
closest friends. It was a ‘Thank You’ mail. I was celebrating my birthday the
next day and before all the calls, emails, visits and messages started pouring
in, I wanted to express my heartfelt gratitude by telling these special people
in my life that I could never repay them for their love and kindness in my
life, especially over the last year.
Birthdays always make me reminisce. I looked
back at my year. Moments sprung up before me and I re-lived some conversations.
It wasn’t the best year of my life. I had experienced deep hurts and painful
sicknesses that I couldn’t explain. I remember crying myself to sleep, night
after night, fearing that my agony would never end. Suddenly, my eyes began to
sting. Those horrid memories brought back tears to my eyes. It was fifteen
minutes to mid-night. I knew the calls would start pouring in soon. I sighed a
sweet sigh, ‘I did have many friends’. I knew I shouldn’t be crying. I wished
there was a way to distract myself from ‘me’. For eight miserable months I had
been only thinking about ‘me’. I was almost beginning to hate myself. I rolled
my eyes, stopping briefly heavenward. God didn’t seem to be listening. I
completed a full circle of ‘eye-ball rolling’ and looked back at my half
written email, disinterestedly.
Eleven fifty-three, my cell phone beeped
softly. Ok, here goes, I thought. My first birthday wish was coming in even
though it was seven minutes early. I opened the message automatically, eyes
still glued to the screen in front. Seconds later, I glanced down at the words
on my phone. It was no sweet birthday wish filled with promises or blessings.
It was from an uncle, a family friend, who, in the first place, shouldn’t
really be sending me a message on my phone at that hour.
But what I read made me shake my head over
and over again. I was shocked like never before. I was being informed about the
sudden drowning of a friend. He was a few years younger than me but we were
good friends. His name was Abhinav, but almost everybody who knew him, lovingly
called him ‘Abhi’. In recent months I hadn’t seen him as often as I would have
wanted to, since he was studying in another city. Nevertheless, we used to bump
into each other at random events like marriages, parties and the like. Every
meeting was always memorable. He was tall, well built, and had the best hugs,
ever. Soft spoken and kind, and for someone his height and size, he was most
gentle. Every sister’s dream ‘little brother’ and every guy’s blood-sworn loyal
friend; he was larger than life in the hearts of us who knew him.
He’d gone fishing with his friends, at a
river near his college. A few of them, along with him, went down some moldy,
windy stairs to the water. As they laughed, talked and enjoyed their sport, his
friends made their way back up, calling out to him to join them. “I’ll be right
there”, he said, standing there as the water lapped his feet.
He climbed a few steps higher as the water
began to rise. There was something in the river; the current was strong. His
friends were calling him and he turned quickly, to begin climbing back up the
stairs. In a split second, he slipped and fell. The water was dangerous and it
almost swallowed him up. He screamed out in fear, for help. His friends,
standing, somewhere way above, tried to throw branches and logs of wood down to
him. He clung on to one but in a matter of moments, before their helpless eyes,
he left them, yelling and screaming. The current pulled him into itself.
In a daze I heard about how his parents,
brother, friends, teachers and the rescue team searched for him, for hours,
hoping against all hope. They returned back without him or his body; bringing
with them only the largest hole they had ever seen or experienced in their
lives.
The clock struck twelve, my phone rang
promptly, and a group of cheery friends sang ‘Happy Birthday’ out loud. The
messages poured in, I finished my email, turned the computer off and got up
from my desk. I had things to do; people to visit, comfort to give, and prayers
to pray for grieving friends.
The shortness of life scared me. Suddenly,
I longed to throw everything I had in me, to help people around me. I realized
my life was not meant to be about ‘me’ and I had just learned it the hard way.
God had been listening!
