It's that time of the year when even the polar bears cuddle up in their dens. It's very very chilly. It's that time of the day when even the crows haven't woken yet. Its 6 in the morning. It's time for me to wake up. I get up and come over to the hall; and see Raveena greet me with a smile and a seductive look. ( I've got a poster of her put on the wall. )

I freshen up and go out for a walk. Rather, am forced to... Have to read and know what is happening around the world; and also have my daily dose of Calvin... There are restaurants too many to list in and around Vijayanagar; however, if you want to have the special "Jersey" chai, then your destination is the small hand cart near the signal light. When he has catered to the other auto drivers he looks up handing me a piping hot cup of tea.

"Yeshtaaytu shishya??" ( How much? ) I ask. "Kevala yeradu rupai guru..." ( Only two rupees ) answers he with a beaming smile.

Sometimes, the best things in life come in such simple packages....

People have different otions about being a grown up. Some believe its age. Some believe it's maturity. Some believe its your behaviour that counts.

Whatever people assume or say, I still love watching them as much as I did when I was a kid.

My... Do I love cartoons. Not those modernised, jing bang hi-fi ones, where you cant distinguish between a character's face and posterior. But the ones of the good ol' days. It's amazing how much more wisom a six year old Calvin and his pet tiger Hobbes can impart than Richard Bach's best selling novel; or how much more amusement than the God of Humor, Sir Charlie Chaplin himself.

I recently got a complimentary copy of the movie "Ice Age" alongwith a magazine I bought. Believe me, it provided me entertainment no end.

Maybe I am still a kid at heart. I, for one, think will never grow up.

He was a great fellow... my friend... one of those rarer types... the kind whose worth you would'nt know when he is around, however, would miss dearly when not. He was not a great speaker. But, what he lacked in speech, he made up in words. He was one helluva terrific writer.... Even now, when I dont have anything to do, I go and read his works all over again. ( I have made an archive of them. ) They make you nostalgic... make you want to kiss the feet of the person who invented prose.

One would not call him extravagantly handsome... the type who would make women turn and toss in their sleep; but he kew his share of women. Some did confide in him more than they would do with their other girl friends. He was a hit among his friends. Both men and women. Partly, 'cos he appeared more matured than the rest, and partly, 'cos he was a great listener. He was a like a sponge. The kind who could sit and listen to you for hours on end, without saying a word; without uttering a word of advice or suggestion.... A great listener... In more ways than one, he was much like me. One of the many reasons, we were on the same plane.

As I said, he was no stranger to women; and very few could rouse his interest in them. ( Mind you... am not speaking about sexuaity.. ) But... she was different. He had been watching her since P.U. Many had vyed for her attention and lost. It has been three years now.. He was in the second year of engineering. And.. there she was... walking ahead of him. He would see her every morning, while going to college, wanting to approach her, but daring not to.

Then one day, he mustered up enough courage, and went up to her and spoke. God... Was it awkward.. remembers he.. with a wry grin on his face. But to his surprise, she was far different than what he had thought. She was great..... She was not witty.. but she would make him smile. She would not spare him, if he was wrong, lashing at him... but she would make him proud. She would never make herself up for anyone.... but she never needed to.. In short, she was wonderful... A perfet companion..

They would meet every morning, and walk those two minutes, talking about everything under the sun. He would laugh... She would laugh.. And both would laugh out loud... making the early morning joggers turn and smile thinking, "They would make such a beautiful pair.."

She would onfide in him that he was the only man she was close to as much... She had never known that a man and woman could be such wonderful ompanions. That they could share such a beautiful pure relationship... But he would only smile whe she would say that. He knew that the time was near. He was nearing the end of his engineering; only a month to go.... He well knew what her response would be... He dreaded it... He knew it might as well be the end of their relationship... But he had to say it. He had to tell her that he had grown to be fond of her. That he is in love with her.

And.. then, so it happened.... He said it... She felt betrayed. He did not want to look into those eyes. But he braved himself to. "Even you turned out to be the same.... Even you..." said they.

They met the next morning again.. Walked those two minutes, without she uttering a word. He said he would wait... wait for her reply, as long as he can... and left...
Three years down... he still loves her. Everytime he thinks of her, a smile breaks on his lips.. She could make him happy.. Very very happy... Everytime he walks down that lane, he is reminded of those two minutes they used to share... and laughs involuntarily.. Oh ! Yes.. She could make him very very happy.. He is waiting to ask her again. Ask her hand in marriage again... But he dreads that.. No.. He doesn't even want to think about it...

But everything happens in this world as he dreads..... He comes to know that she is married.. married and happy. Married.. not to him... But happy nonetheless... A wry smile breaks on his lips.. Selfish though he was, isn't that what he too had wanted.. To keep her happy.

He felt exhausted.... spent... he had spent all his love on her. He believes he cannot love anyone... not after her... not anymore...

I believe so too..... I believe that he is truly spent...and he can never write about love again....

The Eighth of October. Day 1094. It's been a long journey. A journey spanning three years. A journey, which never seems to end. A journey, which I hope, will never end.

Day 1.... I, Amith, and Nidhi set foot on the soils of Bangalore. Set foot with different dreams, different aspirations, and different goals..... I, wanting to see the world; Nidhi, wanting the world to see him; and Amith... Amith had no goals... He just wanted to escape marriage.

Day 364..... Amith had quit learning, but somehow had barely managed to hold onto the throne of being the 'Most Eligible Bachelor in the family'.... Nidhi was as confused as always, but he shared the crown with Amith.... I did not know what I was doing with my life, nor any notion as to where it was heading......

Day 729... Amith had lost the battle..... or rather, I should say, voluntarily lost it. Nidhi now was the undisputed heir to the throne..... But he was ever more confused as what to do with it..... My life was still a mess, though I gave the notion that all was well...

Today.... Amith is bearing the fruits of his labour.... He has been blessed with a son... I, now share the throne with Nidhi, although Nidhi is perilously close to losing it.... My life is out of murky waters. The storms have abated.... Am in full control of the sails.... No more afraid of the seas ahead.

1094 days... I have had my moments. Moments of desolateness... Moments of anguish.... Moments of helplessness.... and overall... Moments of joy.... Those sweet rare drops of honey that touch your life and go... Moments that make you feel life is indeed worth living... Like that moment I opened my colleague's diary, and found she had preserved the rose I had given her....

Bindu... I owe you one.

"A friend in need is a friend indeed."

Something that we have been hearing since times immemorial. Something by which we attibute a true friend to be. A bar by which a comrade, a dear one is judged. One could not be more wrong.....

Rithish was in class 10, and those were the days of the election of the class representative. It had been almost a rule that the one who leads the class a year, would become so unpopular, that he would invariably fail to get elected the next.

And he, like a true Arian was hell bent on breaking this norm. childish as though it may have seemed to others, there never was nothing more that he wanted, nothing more that he cherished to be, than to lead his class yet again. And hence, one could find him zealously working towards that goal.There never seemed to be a doubt in his mind, nor a thought, that he may have to settle for less, for all seemed to be friendly towards him; encouraging him; assuring him. All, but one.... His closest friend.

"Forgive me, my friend." his friend had said, "I am going to vote for the other. For I beleive, he can be a better leader than you." There was a deathly calm about him when he had said this. His eyes showing the surety of having made the right deision. His words depicting the belief he had had in his deision.

Two days later, Rithish saw himself standing in front of the class, in front of his lecturer holding a boxful of votes, alongwith the three other aspirants. The atmosphere was electric. Or so he felt. With every vote being read out, he heart started quickening. By the time, half of the votes were sorted out, there were clearly only two left in contention. His heart was still racing fast and furious. Would he be crowned yet again? Have the people of his kingdom trusted him enough? Or would he be banished into exile? Those were the thoughts running through his mind.

He was jolted back to his senses with an "Oooooh !!!" that rippled through the class. Someone had been keeping track of the scores, he presumed, for he could hear someone utter. "They are on a tie."

His teacher held the last vote in his hands, and looked mockingly at them. Rithish did not enjoy this one bit. Not one bit. He did not enjoy that pain in his chest. Nor the butterflies fluttering in his stomach. The world was going into a frenzy in his eyes, and the chit in his teacher's eyes was getting hazy. "If he delays anymore, am gonna bite a big chunk off something which he aint gonna like." thought he.

And then slowly, ever so slowly, enticingly, the teacher started opening it. Rithish's heart was beating louder than ever. Damn that school gong !!! He thought.

And then, his mind went blank. He could not hear anything. He just saw his teacher's lips move. That's not how one's lips move when his name is uttered... He did not believe this... Maybe this was all a dream... Maybe he was still cozily cuddled up in bed, and he would go to school the next day and win the election....

Slowly, the truth started sinking in. This was reality. He had indeed lost.... Lost by a vote. Mr. People's Choice was approaching him with a grin on his face that matched the crescent moon, and an extended hand. "No hard feelings...right buddy?" he said. No hard feelings? How can there be no hard feelings? He felt like ramming a stick of dynamite into that grinning face and blowing it off from the face of the earth. And he as well might have, had there been any lying around. But the principal had been clever. He had brought his sniffer dog to school, and confiscated all the fire power.

The school peon must have been feeling what he was going through, for he mercifully rang the bell, signalling the end of the day. Rithish walked slowly out of his class, onto the far end of the school, where no lesser being dared to venture. But he was a daring boy. He always had been....

He sat under the pine tree mulling over the day's happenings. He could not beleive that this could happen to him. Had not his friends pledged their support to him? Had their smiles and wishes all been fake? Was there something hidden behind the veil in their eyes? How could he lose? How could he ever lose? Where could he have gone wrong? Had he not wanted to win? Had he not wanted enough?

His heart felt like it was shrinking. He felt his boy shudder. He tried to be brave. But he could not. He could not overcome that feeling. The hot burning sensation in his eyes. Tears started rolling down his cheeks. Slowly at first...then swiftly... uncontrollably. And... for perhaps the last time in his life, he cried. He did not want to stop. He wanted to be released of this pain. And so he cried... cried till the tears would flow no more...till he felt he was bleeding tears....till he felt a presence near him.

His friend had been there all the time. Waiting for him to have his private moment. He approached and sat next to Rithish. Under the same pine tree, which had been a mute listener to all their talk throughout their schooling years. Listened without so much as a grumble to their talks, had it been their discussions about cricket, Asterix, the three investigators, or their harbored fantasies about Miss UdayaKumari, the sixth grade teacher. His friend was like the pine tree now.... Mute, and ever ready to listen.

Neither of them spoke. Words would have been so out of place. He touched his friend's shoulder. Rithish looked at him. And he saw it. He saw it in his eyes. He saw that his friend had felt everything he had felt. His friend had undergone the torture. There was a quiver in his lips. A hint of uncertainity of whether he had taken the right step. By following his mind...... By helping the one who deserved..... In turn having had to go against his closest friend.

And then, Rithish saw enlightenment. Like Buddha, the Illustrious One had under the Great Banyan tree. He began to see things from a different perspective. He saw, that had he been in his friend's shoes, he too would have taken a similar decision..... Followed his mind.

He is not a friend who helps you in need.....but one who helps you if you are deserving...
And Rithish knew, that though even his shadow may desert him, his friend would not.

Not this friend.

Not Harsha...