Reflections On Lost Friendships

A Beautiful Memory: Learning, Belonging and Other Musings

High School Reminiscences, part 10 of 16

Why do friends stop keeping in touch?

Human relationships are frail, often short, and need-based, and if your classmates elect to distance themselves from you, then what do you do? Let them go? Or force your friendship on them? That’s likely one of the few, I confess, not completely misunderstood reasons as to why we are NOT in contact with one another after we passed out of school. About a few of whom I have mentioned (all in good faith) in the last few of my web journals: interspersed with my share of nostalgic recollections.

It’s been three long decades of anonymity of one another now. Thirty years of not knowing what my erstwhile classmates are up to, how they have managed in life, or how their life’s journeys have come along. Each of these questions assumes a logical answer - if not exactly the right answer. Beyond this plain rationale, I don’t intend to go any further, besides I know a happenstance meeting occurrence could be well-nigh possible somewhere, anywhere.

Recalling back to what I have gained from my two years of somewhat sceptical association with these guys, I can vouch for the fact that they all have fared much better than what I am presupposing. When I get slightly philosophically cum psychologically intuitive about the days that have receded into quiet memory a long time ago (but never forgotten and never will be), I find my guesswork getting the better of me. With my advancing age and all, I can be less pacifying. No matter how long you might live, nobody can ever forget their school days. Good old days. High school memories stay with us forever.

(One wishes them all the glory in the world. Everybody has to deserve the best, ultimately, even your average school bully who can’t stop picking on you. Hopefully, God bestows them all a long life and good health, and are doing great wherever they are.)

Saying it like it is

Back in the late 1980s, when I was in my early teens, things were a lot different than they are today. That was a long time ago, 30 years to this year of 2020. Life was indeed far simpler and sweet as there were no hassles of smartphones, the Internet, social media, easy access to computers, and so on to hustle you. Today the world we live in shoves and pushes you into an ever-transforming always-on world, that which loves being blasphemously messy, and wants to be unmanageably chaotic. We are not "a call away from each other" anymore; we are but "a click away from each other." How miserable that things have turned out the way it has for our generation these days.

But still, looking back on those two years of my life, things were not that bad at all. But, as far as the issue of friendship with my schoolmates was concerned, it could have been far far better than what it ultimately turned out to be.

Sadly, a friendship was never in our scheme of things. At school, we never became friends ('acted friendly’ rather) with each other in the truest sense of the word, and as a direct consequence of that, there was no fellow feeling left amongst us whatsoever. Of course, one understands the fact that whatever little chance we may have had for our friendship to flourish (which then inevitably floundered) at school was entirely based upon how ‘advantageous’ you were as a student. Or, how well can you do in your life, your ‘qualities’, your ‘desirable traits,’ et cetera? Terrible that such things sound, as I understand now with proper clarity, there was no real face-to-face relationship component existing between any of us. We drifted apart without having to say a proper goodbye to each other before leaving school. But again, a formal greeting to that effect carried no weightage to be fussed over, or was it? We learned our academic lessons all right but forgot to imbibe the biggest lesson of our studentship days, which, in my opinion, is, and always been, friendship. Say what you must, but friendship does not fructify if you have to base it on anything other than love, trust, and respect for each other. Lastly, it did not happen the way we all would have wanted, perhaps or perhaps not. Maybe, we never sought it in the first place.

So aloof and skittish some of us have been during those years. That apart from studies, we forgot to excel in the all-important subject of friendship. Before we passed out of school, most of us did not want to develop friendships because it demanded time, space, and attention of the kind that none of us were willing to afford. Over time it led to a loss of communication. And so, we failed to reach out to each other and never felt able to embrace the beauty of whatever differences there could have been present between us. Unmindfully, we embarked on yet another (putting it gently) owlish-selfish quest to elevate our lives into the stratosphere, our career-slash-future prospects, without giving as much as a backward glance to the leftover friendship we had. So busy were we.

To win out in the battle of supremacy in the field of umpteen entrance exams and further studies, most of us (or better all of us) forgot to recognize or accorded due credence to the fact that we all studied in the same school and have 'shared educational heritage' so to speak. Therefore, we need to be friends with one another. I would say the super convenient aspect of ‘acting friendly’ in the classroom took quite a heavy toll on our touchy-feely friendship.

Our school friendship (of Class Eleventh and Twelfth) breathed its last. Decades back, it was a sudden 'death' caused due to the consequences of abandoning it, bailing, general lack of friendship, and understanding between us youngsters coming from varied social backgrounds, it had to die. Needless to add, we have had problems with isolation, motivation, reciprocity, and perceptions that went hardly noticed. There have been, however, experiences of zero companionships and misinterpretation in affection leading to the quick demise of our overall school friendship. Nobody could help it becoming a sad relic (of the past times), not even our respectful (and much loved) teachers we looked up to could do anything to put such things into the right perspective for us to make amends. I can say this with greater surety now than before that no one wants to remember nor reminisce about it anymore. (Maybe my presumption is getting the better of me as I write this account from the perspective of a former student thinking back with nothing but sweet fondness to that memory). I believe, when you have been drilled with patented knowledge that makes you look ahead to the future optimistically, then no one wants to get caught looking back into the past. The past is gone; it is history, prologue. The present seems like the future; it is here, happening now. (Reflecting fondly on the past is a pathological necessity for me, however; can't say that about them.)

As I ponder on this, I realize not all friendships are cut-out to last forever, however, I’d have been much happier with myself if I was a little more forthcoming than I had been for a certain friendship I had wanted to flourish. Too bad, forgotten friendships were never meant to last. But I'll always remember all the little friendships I got from those two years I’ve spent as a student at the K.V. school – in its classrooms, science labs, on the playground, library; how can I forget. Thanks very much for the times we've had. I feel I have kept my part of the bargain and I have nothing to reproach myself for.

Things have changed much since the late nineteen eighties (1980s) and, personally speaking, it would’ve been profoundly disheartening to know if the whole connexion to our beautiful old K.V. school nestled in the back of beyond (of the old Air Force Station) had been unremembered. I trust the memory of our association is never forgotten. Just so you know, I’ve never forgotten anything about our school. Ever.

For me, the Past will always be adorable. The future will always come. Our planet will spin. Days will turn into nights and nights into days, bad things will always happen, just as good things will and so on, and so forth… what could be so special about it, it’s just Time wandering through Space and our beloved Earth is just a speck of dust – a pale blue insignificant dot in the Cosmological scheme of things.

Thank heavens, I am one of those happy souls that believe in God and that our Future lies in our Past. So friendships are welcome.

By Arindam Moulick

Pride and Prestige

A Beautiful Memory: Learning, Belonging and Other Musings

High School Reminiscences, part 9 of 16

We live in a world that is increasingly getting frantic and goal-obsessed: a myopic time where everything has to have an outcome or a purpose, otherwise there is no love, and life is invalid.

People forget that in their constant pursuit of career goals, money, and ever so higher achievements they forget to be happy: plain-and-simple happy. But happiness doesn’t care a noodle about your Apple watch or the kind of active lifestyle you lead or the trailblazing career you have. What am I talking about? Be happy to read more on this below, you’ll empathize with me on what I am trying to get at.

First off, let me start by saying that this blog is all about having a sort of internal monologue with myself and it comes straight from the heart. However, I’d advise the reader’s discretion while reading this blog.

Pride, Prestige, and Bragging Value

Seeing a couple of ‘slacks’ (from my school days) getting on with their medical dream was not annoying, barely; rather the realization that they could become eligible at all for medical seats (and later the degree) repelled my desire to be ‘ambitious’. But the entirety of this aforesaid “bittersweet phenomenon” did vex me initially and I was finding myself to be on pins and needles as a result of seeing these slacks getting on with their lives as easily as they would’ve been desirous of. (In good time, I realized I was wrong to stoop to such a level of thinking…)

My adolescent self was taken aback by their apparent lavishness of karma bestowed on them. Naturally, at that point, I felt as though I was hit with the big rig of stark realization that a couple of my classmates who were to the best of my knowledge can at best be described as ‘slacks’ and might as well be…dimwits, could achieve their medical dreams drove me crazy to such an extent that I felt I was being pulled by the E.D. (Envious Devil) himself (not herself!) in several directions at once. Perhaps to see if good sense could be put into my head regarding how pathetic I sound when I yak about my ambition to become a doctor but couldn’t quite manage to come nearer to achieving that miserable childhood goal of mine. What was wrong with my karma? (The devil was in the details, bacchu.)

Feeling anxious and sleep-deprived by the fact that my medical dreams will never come true I went belly up in laughter. At least, laughing was better than killing yourself softly. I hoped that laughing out loud seemed like an appropriate response to my frailty. However, such wounds fester first and take time to heal, especially when it had been sprinkled with the ‘chilly-powder’ of acknowledging those slacks’ sudden, surprising achievements in the field of medicine. I conveniently whipped up a ‘con angle theory’ to put my unctuous anxieties to rest even as I was going huffing and puffing in the general direction of my load of unrealized goals and objectives concerning medicine. Post this scenario, I was lost for words for months together. Completely dumbstruck that I was I became bedridden with self-excoriating psychic reasoning that barely had offered any utilizable answer to the question of how to follow my prideful fantasy of seeing myself as a future medical practitioner taking shape. (Of course, pursuing medicine was not in my destiny.)

Therefore, the only best thing, I thought I could do in such Omigod!-Oh-Gosh! circumstances were to absolve me from the dissonance of the enraging pack of chatter-boxes and their hard-to-miss childish levelheadedness permanently tagged with over-confidence (bombastic and power-loving) labels and get prepared to live my life as it comes. Yet, if Medicine is not supposed to be my cup of tea then career-wise I refused to monkey around for peanuts or any other comparative nuts that you discreetly pick up when you are not sufficiently expert at getting the ultimate prize-catch of your original ambition. Either it's Medicine or Engineering. Well, on the off chance that Medicine does give you the slip, then hurtle towards Engineering. (Please spare me all that… nautanki.)

Fortunately, I came to my senses. I have no clue how but I did. I quickly debunked my convenient ‘con angle theory’ (see above) and jumped on to the right track to do something with the ‘next big thing’ that has been seesawing in my mind ever since the fantastic dream of doing Medicine had turned turtle: Computer Science (a.k.a. Software Engineering). If not Medicine, then Engineering it is.

Doing medicine is now a part of ancient history I better not dig into too much lest I want to deliberately sound like a rookie or a new kid on the block which I most certainly am not. In school, I liked science very much, Biology in particular. So what? That doesn’t imply that I am cut out for experiencing a privileged career gratification such as Medicine. Before long, I understood loud and clear that destiny has already been written down a long time ago. God already knows that a career in medicine was not for me and I need not stress if I don't see myself as a future pediatrician, physician, surgeon, or therapist; nevertheless, it took me my three wonderful college years to get the essential courage and fortitude to finally quit thinking about Medicine. It wasn’t as though it was the bitterest pill to swallow but I strongly suspect that that particular journey wouldn’t have driven me to my best self, never mind the ‘You-Couldn’t-Cut-It’ type of reaction that I would get. And finally, I understood the thing that if it isn’t written in your Janam Kundali, it isn’t written anywhere. If it isn’t written there, you shouldn’t pursue it. (But how will you know if it is not written there? Good question!)

Crinkly-eyed Baljee and personal reputation-conscious Hangorag Tarik, Shaik (from Tech Area), and our class’s loudspeaker box with a bobbing Adam’s apple in his throat P.S.V.V.S.T.U.V.W.X.Y.Z. Ramraj (remember his long initials look like Kondapalli Toys?) were the ‘Engineering types’ while the gung-ho team of twins Biddi (Maha Ranaa Prataap) and Piddi (Maha Rajaa Prataap) including Dhanoj were eyeing Indian Air Force profession; Engineering was not their calling. Haymunth, on the other hand, believed in being a free bird when it comes to choosing a career path for himself; career options were open and the man would choose it when the time comes. He doesn’t believe in fretting about it unnecessarily because he is confidently aware that chances are not always few and far between so he’ll wait and make a move accordingly and when it comes to extracting his pound of flesh he jolly well knows how to do it his way. If every Pooch has its own day then he too will have one, so no point in agitating oneself about it; let other Pooches finish their share of woofing first. Trust Haymunth for his curt sense of wisdom and you’ll be on the right side of things, always. And then there was this heft of a human being passing by the name Hawkish Sribathtub! It was in his nature and temperament to be continually impetuous, brash, and, I thought, a little extra thuggish than your average school bully. Being difficult and mean was his innate specialty. He revelled in the niggardly act of being friendly with you one moment and cold and standoffish the next. He was the sort of individual who doesn't have anything to appreciate much, except for his own heightened ego. Sure enough, this guy too dreamed about doing Engineering; no big surprise there that he too was an inveterate ‘Engineering type’. Almost everyone in our class was an ‘Engineering type’ of a student, none of them were ‘Medicine type’, except yours truly. Oh well, I forgot about the wise young girls in our class! I think doing Medicine was well-ensconced in their dreams but one has no way of knowing if their dreams have come true or not. One wishes, nonetheless, that they did.

For me, however, it was either a medical degree or nothing and this daring willpower comes at a time when, with the exception of Physics and Chemistry subjects, my Biology marks didn’t quite manage to wow anyone. Some way or another I knew I needn’t bleed my gall to make my dreams work out as I’d expect them to; all that I am was in need of is to hold my nerve, show some mettle, pluck courage out of…quite anywhere, and live to fight another day. For all their (my classmates) scruffy ways, I suppose they were on the right career path for turning their ‘ideas’ into dreams and reality – they were going to be working ravenously until it struck gold for them. So is it true? You need to be greedy, selfish, mean and whatnot to get what you want to get? All these private ruminations had me thinking out loud: “Seriously, Boy, how could it be possible? What have I missed? When did mediocrity begin to reign supreme?” (Elementary, my dear Watson, elementary!)

To think that I needed to have the stroke of bad/lean patch luck whatever you call it at such a significant time of my life when I too was naturally expected and required to seek out my dreams was, surprisingly, somewhat consoling: a breather of sorts before the rush of promising things to come? In any case, that old nudging feeling of not being able to make it through to a Medicine seat in a medical college – despite the imagined odds and sods stacked firmly up against me – hands me down some of the chaste goose-pimples ever.

Realizing that the student world and its opportunistic inhabitants notwithstanding (think what you like about this rude rough-edged depiction I am not taking back my words) are not what it appears to be, I backtracked to where ever I lived then to nurse my stunned emotions with the warm cup of belated realization that never forgot to dish out its taunting catcalls to me: “That is the way things are, Kiddo, demonstrate an eagerness to acknowledge it. Hehe.” I did precisely that. I needed to let the sleeping hounds lie. Else, I knew there would be no respite from other people’s instant success stories and garish talkathons that would be paraded around in a carnival-like circus secure in the conviction that they are some kind of awesome masters of the universe – a rare breed that is destined to almost certainly give you the cold shoulder, treat you with chilling disdain, and a solid snigger breaking out like a gnarled garden gnome on their countenances swollen with narrow-minded importance. Such high-blown false pride and prestige they would end up having. (Life has only just begun so expect no mercy!)

The best I could manage to do is to withdraw into a sort of soul-searching hibernation by snuggling down to my rumination coop, and it worked wonderfully on me. It was a redeeming quality for sure; no less than a blessing in disguise to be able to relinquish the gloominess inside my mind and feel liberated from the world’s cruel grasp of unpleasantness and meanness. For the time being at least. (That’s how the world works, my dear gentle soul.)

By Arindam Moulick

Disclaimer: This blog is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of my imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.