This afternoon, around 1, I decided to call my friend Mr. Chakraborty, in Delhi. It had been a long time since I last spoke to him. It was so nice to hear his baritone voice and hear him say my name with endearment. As we recalled the old times, as colleagues in the same publishing house at GK I, the memories flowed like a river. In the short spell of one year we had formed a bond to last a lifetime.
We felt specially nostalgic when I mused that it was almost 1 - time for the lunch break in office. After lunch we used to walk briskly across to the small park and do a few rounds of the perimeter to knock off the fatigue, of sitting in a cramped AC office space. It used to help to digest the lunch. The dappled sunlight which used to animate our path, seemed to be the moments of light and darkness in life.
The great outdoors made me learn many things from my walking companions, which included Chakraborty and my colleague Anil. We never used to speak about office matters. It was always personal talk about each other's well-being. That way we supported each other emotionally and mentally. Chakraborty was from Kolkata, Anil from the hills in Uttarkhand, and me from Goa. We bonded in a special way as we all were, in a sense, migrant birds in Delhi.
Chakraborty fondly recalled how I taught him the ropes of using a computer. He also remembered how I would turn my computer screen towards him (he used to sit next to me) for his feedback on my editing.
Browsing through my blogposts - something I have been doing a lot lately during lockdown - I came across a common colleague of mine called Deepak. I had posted a poem Deepak had written for me when I moved on called, 'March On, Ulysses.'* Even reading it today, inspires me. It suggests that change is only for the better. And so it was. I feel I did not appreciate Deepak's poem enough at that time. I asked if Chakraborty was in touch with Deepak. He shared his number.
I am thankful for the advice I received from Chakraborty and Anil. A lot of it actually changed the course of my life itself. When I spoke to Anil about the intense pain in my lower back he promptly shared a few yoga exercises. They helped me immensely and chased the pain away. When I do them even today I remember him fondly.
Now the tangy aroma of sambhar cooked by Queenie emanates from our kitchen in Porvorim, Goa. A lot of time has passed. But when you talk to an old friend time stands still. I mentioned to Chakraborty that we need to go back to office and resume work - our lunch break would be over by now! It was just 30 minutes back in 2010.
Delhi made the choices which would shape my life. The integrity and humanity of friends like Chakraborty and Anil - and the role they played - cannot be forgotton.
In this limbo of the lockdown, time assumes a surreal quality. Time is on pause. You can rewind it to where you want, and press PLAY. While doing so, you can be ex stasis ('outside of oneself'), as understood by the Greeks.
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*Read the poem here https://lastbustovasco.blogspot.com/2010/11/march-on-ulysses.html Pix of Dhruv Batra Park, Greater Kailash, block W, Delhi; courtesy justdial(dot)com Parks in Delhi.
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