Hooligans

Hooligans

July 21, 2018

  

It may take a Doctor to diagnose someone's disease but it takes a friend to recognise someone's sufferings. Friendships have never been easy for me. Being a hypersensitive person, when it comes to friendships or relationships, I was always mercurial. Things worsened with diabetes, you find yourself to be a huge turmoil of feelings, when your levels oscillate.

The worst part being, neither you can explain that to your friends nor you can expect everyone to understand about what is going in your head or body and at unexpected moments, you lash out all of a sudden and take the irritation out on them.

There it is, If the bond was not too strong enough for them to bear your behaviour, You just lost a friend.

In my journey, till now I met a lot of people, lost a lot of them during outbursts, and been lucky enough to befriend a few.

I am really grateful to those few, who choose to stick with me even though I can go bonkers at times and act whippersnapper. 

Until my diagnosis, I used to be a hooligan, a short tempered snob who used to do things, just because I wanted to. Not for a moment, how is it going to affect anyone around me, not even my family.

The point of convergence being, keeping myself happy.

August 2013, the appointment I had with my endocrinologist transfigured me in right of ways. Suddenly, my world was not just limited to me. Having a deliberate reflective of my ailment, always in the back of my head, I suddenly turned to become more watchful towards people who were in need, serving anybody who asked for help, as I realized everyone is going through their obstacles in life, same way I was going through mine. So, the best I could do for anyone is just be compassionate to them and leaving the rest on the almighty.  

I still sometimes, go ballistic every now and then. I go down that same road, being outrageous at times, but people who have been there for me always made sure, I was never unaccompanied.

17 years later, living in a different country, made me witness the fact that you'll have to plant your own garden, instead of hoping for anyone to buy you flowers.

No one will just show up one day, to fix your hardships in life, all you have is one lifetime and yourself to go along fixing things for yourself and your people.

At one point or the other, I am even gratified to a lot of those, who bailed out on me, thinking I am unworthy of their time and efforts. It helped me finding a companion in myself, when I was alone, and as I ascended, turning into this undiluted self, who knows she can take on anything, without looking at sides, hoping for anyone to come for my aid. 

I guess, climbing to this altitude in life, I have got absolutely no regrets about the failed friendships. The few of those sidekicks, who were always there, through thick and thin, supported me in my journey, and are still in touch. I cherish the bond, that I share with those few.

My first partner-in-crime is known as Aditi. I've known her since times I don't even remember of anymore. We live on different continents now, but still do buzz each other up on the phone, just like old times. The few stable moments in life, when I feel like nothing really changed, even though everything did.

We used to be the unified juveniles, from when we were Lilliputians. We were accustomed to do everything together, from calling our teachers names, to doing every act of vandalism.

Amongst all the acceptable lads in our classroom, the two of us were always around there with plenty of shenanigans on the set.

I was a born troublemaker, as you might have noticed already, me being the snappish one, she always held my back, I used to have hers. Life was all about high jinks and monkeyshines.

Our parents came to know each other, soon after we became an habitue at each others places, until she moved closer to the city with her family.

During school, both of us used to skip morning mass, sneak into our classroom, when everyone else was out, and feast on a friend's lunch. We rushed back out, into the ladies room, and waited for the classmates to come over after the assembly, and then quietly slipped back into the class.

Between school and the home there was not many places, where we had not been in a brawl.

Be it fellow classmates, seniors or random strangers, if anyone was adventurous enough to attack one, they had to deal with the other as well.

When I got diagnosed, Ofcourse Aditi had no clue about my defect. Mother suggested me not to tell anyone in my class or anyone in my school either, so that I wouldn't be treated inferior in school for my illness, or I wasn't contradistinguished for any of the extra curricular activities I used to be involved in. So in school I still acted like a typical pupil without any complications.

I almost never, took any time-off from school for being sick. I always used to show up spirited and upbeat at school, no matter what is going inside.

In Fact, it was very later in time, when Aditi came to know about my illness. When I told her, she was exceptionally unified and supportive, always kept asking me how am I doing, always looked out for me. We have had some really enriching memoirs growing up in kinship.

From being undivided, in what  may seem at this point of time, as vandalism, pure and simple, to making our backbiters sick with despairing jealousy, to engagement of an interloper in our friendship, planning all the buffoonery together, keeping each other's secrets, fighting because of a random boy, to finally seeing me off when I was leaving the country. She had been a part of a major portion of my life, and I can't be grateful enough, she was.

Our paths in life, might have parted us physically, but we still are connected in an estrange way through our thoughts and in spirit. The most delightful part being, whenever we get to meet, or speak to each other, it seems like starting again , just from where we left off.

All of us are providential in life, to have a few people who have always been there despite all the hardships, holding hands through the peaks and valleys. For me, Aditi was one of those few. 

She was always a family for me, a sibling I never had.

 

It will always be.the same, in life and in spirit.

 

Then, there has have been Shruti and Shonali, another dysfunctional, socially impaired strangers I met, and eventually became friends with, enlarging my clan of the unfit. Both of them, have been an integral part of my passage through childhood. This may in part be due to the nature of the insulating and supportive apparatus, we all shared between us. They have always been magnanimously cordial about my health and life.  I could have just called out for them, anytime

and they will do anything to help me out.

Out of caution, we rode our scooties, across the town, as if taking a stroll with them, and afterwards standing next to me, when I used to face the music at home, from my parents.

Shruti's mother used to cook food, so delicious. She always used to our numero uno when it came to choose someone's bag to slip out the tiffin from. She used to bring potatoes almost everyday and they used to be the most heavenly tasting potatoes ever.

Mother used to give me all sorts of healthy diets to eat. I used to hate it. At times, I used to gaze at Shruti's lunch, when I used to be hungry. 

Even today, if I go back to India, the most happening thing I still crave, in that small old town, is for Shruti's mum calling me in for lunch and rejoicing the food cooked by her.

They both stood by me, through the toughest of times, making the pain easen up and I hold in high esteem, the affair, I shared with them,

We may not converge, all the time or everyday, but whenever we do, it gives me happiness knowing that I have been lucky enough, to have known these people in my life. Makes me wonder if There's more to life than all this.

 

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