We are like this only !

Once upon a time, many years ago there was this mousy looking  skinny girl who always walked in a straight line, with her head buried into her shoulders. She carried in her heart, the burden of many things big and small. She had been uprooted from all her childhood friends into a strange new city. The big bad Delhi. Her father had accepted a job transfer and she had come along with a heavy heart and many nights of crying bitterly into the pillow. Leaving behind a bitter childhood romance, kindergarten friends, the convent and the lazy dream of a life at RDSO.

She felt wretched for many months and it was in that state of mind, she found herself in a new school in Delhi. Her parents had chosen to stay close to her uncle's house, in the affluent Punjabi locality that reeked of vulgar ostentation, good cheer and everything North Indian. The school was an extension of that culture and she felt even more depressed. To make matters worse, she stood out like a sore thumb with her 'preppy' behavior, the teachers loved it but she became a butt of jokes with the rest. Maybe they loved to intimidate her because she was different. Maybe she threatened the culture of that place. She could not figure out the sniggering as she walked down the corridor to the class room everyday. Or the huge Sardar boy who followed her menacingly till the bus stop every afternoon as she hurried past that one deserted alley. The worst was this angry looking dude in her own class who stood diligently outside the room, staring ferociously as she walked in every morning. Over time as she made a couple of friends, the girls told her that this chap was the class rogue and to be kept away from. She once noticed he clicked her picture in class and was petrified of him after that. Those were the pre- mobile days and it was a actual camera he had got along to do this. She was apprehensive and upset but she had been ostracized enough after complaining about the burly sardar who followed her and she could live without some more trouble.

Months went by and a few days before Rakshabandhan he walked up to her with that picture he had taken and a Rakhi. He wanted her to be his sister. The girl panicked, she was sure this was some prank. But he kept insisting. So much so that one afternoon as she was rushing home as usual, he stopped her on the busy road and threatened to shoot her with a 'revolver' in case she did not agree. This was as Filmi as it could get and in true Bollywood style he barged into her house on the Rakhi day and much to the bewilderment of her shocked family, had her tie a Rakhi on his wrist. This was 25 years ago. And in the years that followed, they became friends and siblings by design. The school time toughie is now a mild mannered businessman and a father of two!

Rohit, my friend and brother, as special as my two younger siblings can be.

The context changed decades ago but the style hasn't changed a bit. In his true inimitable style he lands up at my door at the crack of dawn every rakhi day and drags me out of bed to tie the Rakhi and make him some cold coffee !! Yup, that's real stuff, I am not making it up.

We are like this only :)