By Vishal Uttamchandani
I think of us now, as we were then. Three laughing boys delighted by our lucky and violent closeness. In a sun drenched coastal city filled with strangers we felt a part of the teeming throngs, accepted by the pace and the fury because we faced it together. That first summer of college was when our collective wildness ignited and we painted that town red from 7 Bungalows to Marine Drive. But it was also a time of strange innocence, we saw no demons surreptitiously studying our flanks, we were convinced that what we had would be lifelong and any change would only serve to strengthen what was already unbreakable. There were only sweet times ahead, no such thing as victims, and certainly none of us would be prey. We carried with us something that seemed infectious. As though our love and loyalty attracted toward us people who were always laughing, as intoxicated by the headiness of life as we were. Drawn by our fierce reverence for each other like moths to the flame.
But the Greeks have a saying, it is dangerous to love something beyond all reason, for fear of invoking the jealous fury of the Gods. Fate had started to pull it's strings by the beginning of that second year itself. Events that seemed inconsequential then would echo larger and larger through time eventually stunning those of us left standing, on our knees among the ruins. A lifetime of love and light would slowly transform into death and darkness. Whatever it was that took him, that marked us, it killed him. But first it killed any outward appearance of our deep ties to one another. It turned the fire we felt for each other into rage, the respect and regard to icy disdain. Those who knew us did not realize what we felt was not dead, only sleeping and unpleasantly transformed. I believe we both knew it was only a matter of time before we regained what we had lost. It would find it's way back to us, it had to. Only a matter of time. What a stupid fucking phrase that is. How unbelievably idiotic it is for us to actually think we have any say in "matters of time." So it killed him but that wasn't enough. First it had to make sure it had warped what we had. Drove distances so deep that oceans seemed shallower. Erected barriers between us made formidable by our pride. Ensured that our last time together on this earth was such a complete nightmare, that the survivors would never be able to look back on it without shuddering in horror I do not know for how long I will carry my guilt with me. But I have a feeling it's going to be the lifelong companion he was supposed to be. I do not know if any spark of him remains out there watching over us. Nor if he ever forgave me. All I know is this. You were beautiful dost. Only the good die young. Rest in peace brother. I love you man.
By Vishal Uttamchandani
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