1. Bestfriends

Rahul. So much for my name. Quite different from the images you might picture in your mind on the utterance of the name, images popularized by our nation’s glorious Hindi cinemas. I am Rahul Dutta, a typical, bland, average Indian youth, from “The City of Joy”.

Joy, my best friend. We have been the best of pals from times immemorial. Whatever we did, we always did it together, right from our very childhood. Be it studies, cultural activities, para sports, hanging around, any other activities…or simply killing time…always together…

The place where Joy lives is called Bot-tola, and there wasn’t a single face in Bot-tola that I hadn’t known since I was just 8. While at my home, it was impossible to convince my mom that Joy wasn’t technically a member of our family.

But our friendship was above all this. It was something that could not be expressed in words, even if Shakespeare held your pen. I can’t think of any secrets we kept from each other. And curiously we always knew what the other was up to. Whenever we liked someone, the second thing we would do is let the other know about it. Whenever we happened to land in some kind of soup, the other would act the savior. Whenever we had to talk about something we forgot that nights or days existed. Or even if it was just simply nothing it was always the other person’s company we preferred more than anything or anyone.

We have been like this since…I don’t remember when…

Yet I still remember in the clearest of resolutions, a day right out of my childhood, when I had beaten up a boy real bad because he had pushed Joy off the swing. The first thing I knew I had 2 do was to get Joy to the sick room. There was no time to call for help. My patient was a bit heavy for me, but I knew I had to do it. I had to somehow get to the sick room, and fast. The others were too terrified from the sight of blood spilling from the wounds of Joy’s knees and forehead. So I was on my own. It was only after a while, when Joy was visibly a lot better that I had hunted up the boy and beat him up into a mess, a hundred times worse than Joy.

But it was only this other incident a few years back which actually showed me how special our friendship was…

It was on a beautiful spring day. The winter had just passed; it was one of those fine days when you felt that nothing could possibly go wrong. But ironically, everything did. We, Joy and me, were returning from a rock concert held at Nazrul Manch. The ones after which u still have the decibels buzzing inside your head for a long time. We had reached the Taratala crossing. Joy had crossed the road with an inherent awesome aptitude before me. And I, on the contrary, was terribly bad at it. So I waited for the signal to go red, but I could see Joy already on the other side shouting, “Oi! Tatari cross kor! Bus eshe gache!” It was on a sudden impulse that I acted, quite stupidly though, on summon from my best friend, and I put my step forward. Suddenly the cacophony of the band music changed into a loud, harsh, unpleasant sound which reminded me of a truck’s horn. And in the next instant I felt something shooting at me, something big. There was a sudden sharp pain on the back on my head and everything went black. The last thing I remembered was a blurry face…Joy’s face.

When the world appeared once again, I realized that I was lying on something soft, a bed. It took quite a while for me to grasp the fact that I was lying on my bed, in my bedroom. Mom was sitting on my bedside, her face anxious. The first question I could bring myself to ask was “Where is joy?”. The idea that Joy could be anywhere other than beside me, while I lied in bed, seemed utterly unconceivable to me. It was only when mom mouthed a three syllable reply that everything came back to me. All she could conjure up was “hospital”, and that was enough to bring back all the horrors and chills that I had experienced just a while ago. I didn’t know how long it had been since the accident occurred, or how long had I been lying on my bed. Was I taken to the hospital too? But all my questions could wait. All I needed to do right now was to go and see Joy, whose life was more precious to me than my one thousand lives.

When I reached hospital Joy was sleeping. I was asked to wait outside. But I dint move an inch from the bedside. I sat there for dunno how long, watching Joy’s bandaged face and plastered right leg. I couldn’t hold my tears for any longer, “Oh please forgive me Joy! Please! Why did you have to risk your own life for a stupid creature like me?? If I had died it would have been because of my own stupidity! Why did u have to risk your own life for that?? Oh please get well soon Joy! I promise I’ll never do like this again. Please. I’m so sorry buddy! I’m so sorry!” I sobbed. “Its okay boss, apology granted…but jus watch your step a bit from next time, and I promise I’ll kip myself away from trouble…deal??” I hadn’t realized that my blabbering had woken up Joy, the same serene smile played across the bandaged face, as if nothing had happened at all.

Joy’s right leg’s tibia and fibula had been crushed under the truck’s wheels. When I had been trying to cross the road callously, I hadn’t noticed the truck moving towards me at full speed from my right, Joy had. And I realized without effort that the thing that had shot at me and pushed me away from the mouth of death was nothing but my best friend, Joy. My life was saved but the truck had run over Joy’s right leg. The bone was crushed and a metal plate was placed under the flesh to hold the broken bones in place.

Joy still has to limp slightly while walking, and cannot run. All because of the utter stupidity of the stupid creature called Rahul. And still Joy has to pretend that nothing had happened at all, ever.

I don’t know haw many of you are lucky enough to have had friends like Joy. But for me…I don’t know what I would have done without Joy around.

P.S: Joy, my best friend, alias Joyshree Mitra.