Brothers & Comrades

Today afternoon I was missing some of my school friends. I'm not sure what brought this on, and I'm not sure why I was hoping that 2 particular boys would randomly turn up at Vien (tea stall on Theatre Rd., actually Vien is the mithai shop next to which lies our tea stall) and somehow life in general would look brighter. Though I know that both of them are now across the Atlantic facing their own blues, I still just wished if either could be around, just for a little while. I have nothing in particular to say to them. Just wanted to sit around and gas for a while. Something we're pros at.

So I promptly went to sleep. Mr. Keating (Robin Williams) in Dead Poets Society says that "it is only in dreams that men are truly free, forever it was and forever shall it be". Whenever I miss someone, and its rare for me to miss people (I'm terribly cold hearted), I try to find them in my dreams. I've just woken up - yes its 9pm now, I've slept all evening - and my thoughts haven't collected fully yet. But the feeling of those 2 haven't left my insides yet.

In the last couple of years of high school, my friends and I hung out roughly in a group of nine. We took all our tuitions together and were in the same batch in every subject. We were also considered the worst bunch of guys amongst the science students and our exploits with Mod X, our math teacher, are still whispered in the hallways of our school. Or so we like to think.

However, over the last 5 years personalities have been shaped in certain ways and though all nine of us are still in touch with one another, we've also managed to put some distance between ourselves. While some have grown closer together, others have sort of drifted away. This happens or so I'm told. Among the people I've remained fond of are say Peter (he'd like me calling him that) and Dancer.

Today I was missing both of them. Particularly Dancer. I'll tell you a story about an incident most Martinians and Jacobians (they know who they are) of Class of 2004 would remember.

St. James' School Kolkata were hosting their...I dunno once in 5 years/2 years fest called Jaco Synthesis which, as it turned out once we were there, was rigged against us that particular year. Now this is not a big thing. We at La-Martiniere for Boys have historically rigged every single fest against them. However in our particular year my close friend - say Mascarenhas - was President on the Interact Club; he took a stand and made sure our annual fest Karma Yatra was a fair playing ground for all participating schools. Something he ended up in tears for at the end of the fest, but I'll give him credit for it. He even stood up to our Vice Principal, Mr. Francis, who had explicitly asked him to make sure that James didn't win.

St. James went on to win Karma Yatra '04 and Martinians having lost face at home vowed vengeance at the upcoming Jaco. Dammit these fests were so goddamn important to us then. I don't remember going to a single fest since graduating from school, though I remember being offerred money to come and judge an event in my own school. Its really sad the state of affairs at these fests.

So anyways once we realised we had no hope of winning although we could clearly see we deserved better than what we were getting, we Martinians erupted in 'revolt'. I clearly remember getting mad and shouting slogans and all others from our school egging me on and forming an 'army' behind myself' as we literally marched to the gates of the shamiana hosting the fest and disrupted the event going on. While the others with me followed suit and misbehaved, Dancer was the only one who had held me back and asked me to calm down. Impulsive as I was I pushed him away, even called him a fool I think, and then went ahead and paraded my army bfore fifty odd stunned Jacobians and their teachers who were rendered completely helpless. Once on a rampage there was no stopping us. Some Jacobians came forward to confront us, and me being right in front, I was in the thick of things. It was turning into a mob scene and we Martinians were thirsty for blood. James teachers kept their cool and tried to pull their boys back, they knew they couldn't control us. But we wanted blood. I remember getting frustated and climbing onto the shoulders of some boys, upholding our KY brochure and doing pelvic thrusts in the air infront of the James VP's face, Mr. Holt I think. Others would soon emulate the same. This got James' attention. They came forward. Suddenly I remember a body stepping before me as I got down to fight. It was Dancer. I was in front right through and had no idea what was going on around in my rage. Dancer while not supporting my acts had still hung around to look out for me. I think he took a well aimed punch in the chest before all hell broke loose. Jacobians didn't know we were armed with chocolate bombs which promptly went off all over their campus causing panic amongst other participating schools and teachers eventually leading to the days events being postponed. We had lost the fest but won the war. Or so we felt as 17 year old, hormone filled twerps that we were. But the fest was not the point. The point was Dancer. He later told me that he knew things would go wrong in a matter of seconds, which is why he'd asked me not to get involved. He also said the others didn't believe in me. They just wanted someone to lead them into the scene. None of them had the balls. I remember asking him why he stuck around; he said he felt I was the only one doing what I felt was right and no matter if he didn't believe in the means, he would back me up. And he did.

Over the years I have realised what I fool I was then and have rendered my apologies to various Jacobians I've gotten to know since then. One of whom is in the nine I mentioned earlier. Another a Sardar, James' favourite Sardar and mine too, would go on to become a dear friend of mine. However, I'll never forget what Dancer did that day. I was an asshole, and he knowing the same refused to judge me and chose to remain a brother in arms. I miss you bhai. Come home fast.

Peter knows who he is, and I don't have it me to write anymore. I'll talk about Peter some other day. For now I miss both my brothers and tonight I'll say a little prayer for us. May the force be with us.