Thursday, April 20, 2006

From Another Time

This was written four years ago, in a fit of homesickness in an alien place full of new faces. This will not make sense to a lot of people and is not meant to...

The six of them knew each other vaguely as they all came from one of those small towns where gossip travels at the speed of light and all well meaning adults know each other. They banded together as an act of self preservation. Together they could battle home sickness; together they could hang out, look cool (so they thought) without feeling the need to befriend strangers; together they were “the Jampot Gang”. The journey to and from home was always something to look forward too. They had occasional fights, usually silly fights to start with but slowly the bitterness grew and only four of the original six remained. Then these four grew up. Stuffing live caterpillars down someone’s shirt was not an innocent joke anymore nor was sharing an ice cream cone. The girls met boys who made their hearts beat faster and the boys in turn met girls who made them dreamy eyed. Slowly they drifted apart till only the two of them remained – to make the last journey home.

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

Very well written. Though I dont know who these six people are, or for that matter the last two (though I have some guess), it all makes sense.
I have seen it happening so many times with very close friends who spend all their time together. Its human nature I guess, nothing can be done.

Buchu said...

Hmm. I can make some guesses as to where it was written and so on. I remember going through exactly the same pangs, having exactly the same set of six friends...and now we've all drifted apart. It's wonderful when we do get together, but ppl have fought, some have moved away, others don't speak, and one is getting married and the rest of us aren't invited. But when I think back to those evenings when they understood my homesickness, and when we all sat and chatted, there's both a pang of sadness, and a feeling of...for want of a better word...love...that I feel for them.

Bidi-K said...

it was the same for me at school, its a miracle that we still stay in touch but its not the same. things have changed, ppl have changed but somehow out of the eight that were, 4 remain connected and can relate still. and when that happens i feel like so very young again.

Anyesha said...

anonymous: thanks, but the identity of these people really does not matter. My present highly cynical self finds the innocence of this piece heart warming.

buchu: This was written sometime after coming to the US, when I found it really hard to mingle with a largely Indian graduate student population at school. We really don't keep in touch except for that rare phone call once in a while. But even today I land up defending them. The ease with which I do the whole "No, he was a really nice guy at heart" or "You didn't know her the way I did" thing really amazes me. As you said for lack of a better word...its probably love.

bidi-k: I guess the next installment of this piece will be about friends who moved away (literally) after getting married. The breakup of this group was more of a loss of innocence, and-they-all-grew-up thing...but with the next set of friends relationships outside the group put an end to the friendships within.

Kumari said...

I guess it is all part of growing up. I have been guilty of giving importance to rel'ships from outisde and neglecting the friendships within. Of course later we realised what we shared was more wonderful and finally got back together as close knit gang :)