The gang of five
When Bhaskar is around you make friends very fast. Soon we formed a gang of five who wanted to break rules as we thought it was glamorous. All of us had a pseudo-intellectual streak, loved to discuss Albert Camus and Kafka, though we had not read anyone of them. Four of us were intoxicated by Homen Borgohain* and worshipped him with the same intensity that Al Qaeda members have for Jihad.
It betrayed logic.
Bhaskar hated Homen Borgohain because he thought it was cool and that added mystery to his persona. How someone can dislike Homen Brogohain, we wondered. It worked for Bhaskar.
There was another Bhaskar in the team. Only three things mattered in his life: good clothes, good food and Raktima. He also did not matter to anyone in the college, especially to Raktima. I still have a doubt that he enjoyed crying. He would cry at anything. Almost every evening when the Brahmmaputra gulped down the sun, Bhaskar would start crying. It’s so beautiful; he would say and shed tears!
Bikash and Mrinmoy were with us only to have fun. They were waiting for the medical entrance result and the three years’ degree course that they had got themselves enrolled in was actually a back up. Bikash was obsessed with his hair and Mrinmoy enjoyed boring people to death. He could talk nonsense for hours without caring if others were interested or not.
You must be wondering how these five weirdoes can be friends. Bhaskar needed followers and he knew how to drag people around.
But he did not know I was exactly the opposite of what he thought of me.
I never thought high of friendship and did not believe in the existence of moral science. I was the first one to stab on his back as I needed a scapegoat to save my skin. I have never repented consciously for what I did though had to enact a big drama to show how I had sacrificed Bhaskar for nobler causes.
That was the end of gang of five, which survived two months. Bikash and Mrinmoy became doctors. The other Bhaskar went back to home town and I and Bhaskar Bora became enemies.
Today, Bhaskar thinks I’m his friend and he loves me for that.
* Homen Borgohain is a noted Assamese author and journalist.
It betrayed logic.
Bhaskar hated Homen Borgohain because he thought it was cool and that added mystery to his persona. How someone can dislike Homen Brogohain, we wondered. It worked for Bhaskar.
There was another Bhaskar in the team. Only three things mattered in his life: good clothes, good food and Raktima. He also did not matter to anyone in the college, especially to Raktima. I still have a doubt that he enjoyed crying. He would cry at anything. Almost every evening when the Brahmmaputra gulped down the sun, Bhaskar would start crying. It’s so beautiful; he would say and shed tears!
Bikash and Mrinmoy were with us only to have fun. They were waiting for the medical entrance result and the three years’ degree course that they had got themselves enrolled in was actually a back up. Bikash was obsessed with his hair and Mrinmoy enjoyed boring people to death. He could talk nonsense for hours without caring if others were interested or not.
You must be wondering how these five weirdoes can be friends. Bhaskar needed followers and he knew how to drag people around.
But he did not know I was exactly the opposite of what he thought of me.
I never thought high of friendship and did not believe in the existence of moral science. I was the first one to stab on his back as I needed a scapegoat to save my skin. I have never repented consciously for what I did though had to enact a big drama to show how I had sacrificed Bhaskar for nobler causes.
That was the end of gang of five, which survived two months. Bikash and Mrinmoy became doctors. The other Bhaskar went back to home town and I and Bhaskar Bora became enemies.
Today, Bhaskar thinks I’m his friend and he loves me for that.
* Homen Borgohain is a noted Assamese author and journalist.
posted by Writwik | 5:12 pm
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