TCM - 1

Som put a hand around my shoulder and stretched forward the other. I looked ahead. All around us, there was the green valley, the scent of magnolias, and the distant sound of the waves of the river, as they splashed on their banks. It mingled with the wind and tickled our ears with their mysterious secrets. All these played in the laps of those huge mountains, which have been cradling them for centuries with monumental patience. I looked at the mountains and smiled. And wondered. Why is it that the winds and the trees and the river make people smile? And why do the mountains inspire awe? Is it because they are silent and do not take part in nature's speech? Somehow, to me, the hills have always been an attraction. And these mountains look like an affectionate grandfather who is looking after his precocious grandchildren. They signify posterity. In fact, they all do. And I guess they meant the same to Somu. For he said “This is what immortality means Doc. This whole thing lying before us. Not you or me or anything that man has done or will ever do." I looked at him and saw two eyes. Eyes that looked at you as if they could pierce you and look straight through. Right then, they had that distant look- as if they could see something beyond, which had missed our sight.

'Som'- I said. ‘Even this is not permanent.' I tried to imitate his sombre tone and contort my not so handsome features into his, philosophical Greek God-like face. The Greek God turned his face towards me and looked quizzical. ‘Well, you know this whole evolution theory that this bloke named Charlie wrote about after he visited those Galloping islands.'

'Galapagos, you mean'.

'The same. Well, that was about natural selection and the dog- eats dog theory till the fitter of them survives. But millions of years ago, when even history wasn’t there, there were these seven seas.. all together, and all the land, locked together, until they all separated and...... Hell, you know what I mean.'

'Yeah, I know.' He smiled. A trifle amused at my chagrin at not being able to weave the story of creation of earth into a poem.  

'But do you get my point?' He said and then started off.

'You see where we are standing? What we are looking at? We are looking at something that has taken millions of years to become what it is now. Centuries of ceaseless addition and shaping of minute particles. And not one of these particles is superior to other in its role. There is no hierarchy. And it is this uniqueness and individuality of each of them that has made these rocks scrape the firmament. It is them that have held it up rather than the other way round. '

'Now imagine!' he turned towards me with his eyes all ablaze.

'This should be the picture of civilization.  All the populace having the same relevance. No one higher than the other. No one upmanship.and that particularly is what is wanting here. The reason why our country is still lagging in development. The reason our edifice is crumbling. '

'Because some of us.. rather a lot of us just want to sit at the top of the others.' He fell silent.

'You forget, my friend. Those who try to be uppity and become a boulder, tend to fall off and crumble in a heap. '

'And crush a lot of others in their wake.' He said quietly.

I had no answer to this.

It has always been like this. We would get into a conversation and at the end Som would make a statement that would make people silent. He had this knack of asking uncomfortable questions.

And it was for these very reasons that the college administration treated him warily and the political union disliked him. Though, he was loved by the general mass of students specially the undergraduates. He was the 'daddy' without being a bully.

With his devastating looks and clear speech, he was a born hero. While girls would get weak-kneed, even guys respected him. Having been room-mates since our first day in college, I have had the chance of being a real close observer. six months in the college, being freshers ourselves, I was surprised when one evening , on entering the room I saw him coaching a fellow student for the semester exams, while we had an important test ourselves the next day.

Incidentally, we have been the best of friends. How it came about is something we will talk about later

Our friendship would strike people as odd. While I was more of a social guy and highly popular. He was introverted and kept mostly to himself. But both of us were inseparable. and genius. Funny, though it may sound, our micro level differences were what that led to our macro level similarities.

Even with top- grades, both of us used to feel like misfits.  I was  the quintessential writer and he, a visionary. My place was behind a desk, secluded and his, behind a mike, amongst a throng of people. Both of us were pushed into this setting by our fathers, both of whom, in a strange case of coincidence were pragmatic and no- nonsense takers. And both had doting mothers.

And what exactly were we doing? Well, both of us were training to be medicos.

Right now, that was where we were headed. Towards our college. It was our fourth year here. In this college with its cathedral like building and long corridors. It was here that we would study to become doctors. It was a strange setting for a medical college. Nestled amongst the hills. Far , far from the maddening crowd. Attached to an old and big and famous hospital. Where we were interned , of course. It was the thought and vision of the founder of the institution and the hospital, who has given his name to both of them, that both students and patients need nourishment and nutrition. Clean fresh air, healthy food and calm environs to recuperate for the patients. Detachment, serenity for the students. Probably, he understood how being near patients would turn young interns into real doctors. The arrangement suited everyone- the practicing faculty, the interns and the patients.  Patients liked to see youthful and sunny faces walking along with the doctors, trying to eagerly gulp down all that they could. Interns were happy to get a hands on experience. And the doctors were happy that they got to treat their patients in a hospital with world class facilities.

The college had a huge research wing too. Where R & D would be going on simultaneously. All in all, we were receiving a  world class education in a world class institution. We had it all.

And as we walked towards our college, it was this all that we took in in a glance.  The college building always silenced us. In me, rather I should say , in all of us it inspired an awe. Probably, it reminded everyone of something that they valued, something that they had sacrificed in order to be able to come here. To me, it is a symbol of hope, of how things could be and should be. Of what we were expected to go out and achieve. It also imbued a sense of responsibility, of our indebtedness to the society. Even Som, who had a scant regard for anything and everything would grow silent.

‘What does it remind you of ?’- I asked him that day. I have asked him this question many times. To futile attempts. Usually, he would shrug, ignore or smile mysteriously. Today, however, was my lucky day.

‘My biggest fear’.

I stared at him. ‘ And which is..?’. I wasn’t expecting an answer now. But, surprise!

‘Night.’ He saw my blank face and continued.

‘You know doc, when I was a kid, I used to be scared of the night. That this night would never end and there would be no light. Here, in these precincts, with you and all, I lose my fear of the dark. But when I go back to where I come from, that childhood fear haunts me again. Because, where I come from, it has been night, for many years , more than both our ages put together. The suffocating darkness needs this bright light for the night to end.’

What could I say? It was another of Soms' silence inducing statements. Yet, today I wanted to say something.

‘Come on, Som. Cheer up. Things are looking up surely. A lot of development work is going on everywhere.’ Immediately, I knew that it was the wrong thing to say.

‘Not there, where I come from.’

Damn it! Why did I always get it wrong? . I had never meant that. Hell, wasn’t that what we all were here for? To learn medicine and then practice it later on , to bring relief and succor to our countrymen? I guess not. A lot of our classmates were already forming plans of flying abroad for their major. And stay there. For good maybe. To be frank, I wanted to do my post grad from abroad too.

As if reading my mind, Som said ‘ A lot of our crowd  with a lot of green in their pockets is going to fly abroad and stay there A lot of them can afford it too. Sons of rich fathers like you, who don’t even need to think of the fees. You are going to pass with top honors from top colleges, with recommendations from high seats, only to cater to the well-heeled in super speciality hospitals. This leaves people like us, who have struggled right from their childhood, who needed scholarships to scrape through their college, to nurture our nation. Let me tell you what happens to us. We struggle and fight. fight our own government to bring health care to the great unwashed masses, which , my friend, incidentally is the real India.’

I swallowed the silence then said. ‘ You know, Som. That is a bit unfair.’ I was feeling hollow as I said this. But it was really not fair to paint everyone with the same brush. It wasn’t my fault that my father was a big shot businessman in textiles. He would narrate to me the uncertainties that he faced all the time, so that I would realize the value of the hard work that went behind each of the worldly comforts that I enjoyed and not take them for granted. Dad knew each of his ‘men’, (he would never call them employees or workers) by their first name. I have known him setting up scholarships for their children, arrange their marriages, and get their families insured. Surely, being rich doesn’t have to mean being bad. You just need to have your heart in the right place. But I couldn’t tell all that to Som. There existed too many examples which proved just the opposite.

‘Life isn’t fair, doc. The rich know that. And they make every effort in ensuring that it remains so.’

‘Sure, its not fair Som. But then, its not fair to anyone. Why boast about it? When you look inside, almost every heart has had grave injustice done to it. Everyone has a question.’

We had reached the cafeteria doors by now. It was sparsely occupied today. We took our favourite seats by the window, which had the Cliffside view. The cafeteria was like the coffeehouses of Kolkata- a veritable throng of discussions, all supported with the usual combo great coffee and spicy samosa. Open 24 x 7, it was our favourite refuge outside of our hostel rooms.  I cant count the number of hours I had spent here. Talking, laughing, arguing, just thinking and sometimes even studying. Just as I cant remember the number of girls we had eyed here. Till I met her. Or rather, till she caught my eye.

 She? Nikita, that’s her name. Nikki, that’s how the world knows her. But I call her Ayesha, after the beautiful African Pagan queen in Rider Haggard’s She. And we were talking as she approached us, with the usual smile on her face. The same smile that had smitten me . Serendipity, I say to her. And she agrees. An accident, is what she calls our love story. A deliberate one though, I think.

But then, this story is not about ‘How I met Nikki’.

She approached us just when we were in the middle of a discussion about the haves and have nots.

‘Look at you.’- said Som, as Nikki sat down on the third chair. ‘What is it that you don’t have? A rich father. Good clothes. A handsome pocketmoney.  A bright future. And the most beautiful girl in the college as your girlfriend .’ These last words were said with a bow to Nikki. Our Som might be short on words sometimes. But he was never short on courtesy.

‘Not the most beautiful surely.’- said Nikki, with a hint of modesty.

Both me and Som grinned. Like all girls, Nikki liked to be praised. But unlike many other girls, she was grounded. She hadn’t  allowed beauty to upset her brains.  

‘Certainly in the top three.’- replied our knight errant.

‘Who are the second and third?’- I asked innocently and got a sharp look from Nikki.

‘You- don’t-have-to-know-them.’- said Nikki through a closed mouth. Like other girls, she was inflammatory. And I loved this in her.

‘ Whats stopping you from falling in love? Do you know the number of looks you attract evrytime you walk down the corridors? You just need to open up.’- I said.

‘You know Som, try smiling a bit sometimes. You look devastatingly handsome.’- said Nikki, as Som continued to look grumpy and disgruntled.

‘This discussion is getting nowhere.’- said Som, shortly.

‘Excuse me, guys. I need to put in some work for the case study we are doing. Have been putting it off for a couple of weeks. Catch you later.’

He patted my back, shook hands with Nikki and left us dumbfounded.

‘Nothing new’- I said to nikki, as we both watched Som walk outside the cafeteria and all the way to the hostel. He had a nice walk, surefooted, unhesitating with a straight back and raised head.

‘Don’t you have case study?’-asked Nikki sternly.

‘I have done mine. Care for a long walk?’ I eyed her. Romantically.

‘Why is he always so closed up like that?’- Nikki thought aloud, shaking her head and getting up at the same time.

A question that a lot of people will continue to ask.