BFF – Best Friends Forever
Siva was angry with his parents. This wasn’t the first time he was angry with them. He remembered the first time they told him that they were moving to Valmiki Nagar, a far flung suburb of Chennai. He had shut himself in his room. Refused to come out, discuss or see reason. He couldn’t understand why they were doing this. They were perfectly happy in Anna Nagar.
“It will be better there,” his father had said reassuringly.
“How will it be better there,” Siva argued. “My building friends won’t be there.”
“You will make new friends.”
“Easy for you to say that. Why can’t you leave me with Gopi?”
Gopi was his next door neighbour. And best friend. They went to the same school in the morning, the same park in the evening and frequently stayed over at each other’s place at night. Siva couldn’t imagine a life without Gopi.
“You will find another Gopi in Valmiki Nagar.” His mother said with a laugh.
Siva shot her a look of pure hatred. She just didn’t understand. He tried reasoning with his father.
“Pa, please put me in a hostel here.”
“No, Sivanand,” said his father using his full name. He usually reserved it for grown up conversations such as this one.
Siva didn’t feel like much of a grown up at this time. He didn’t think he was ‘acting childish’ (as ma put it) by refusing to go to a new place.
Of course, in the end, he had no choice. On the day of departure, Siva was inconsolable. He hugged Gopi as if he would never let him go. The boys finally had to dragged apart. “I will come back soon, Gopi. You will see. I will never forget you. I will call you everyday,” promised Siva, tears streaming down his cheeks.
Siva’s dad was worried. He knew Siva had taken the move badly. He just hoped Siva liked his new home and made friends there fast enough.
When they landed at the new apartment, Siva wrinkled his nose in apparent disgust. He cast a critical eye around. “Oh, this place is so dusty. Our building was so clean.”
“Not really, Siva. Don’t you remember the big garbage dump right next door?”
Of course, Siva remembered. How could he forget? It was home, after all. “Still, it was better than this. It was home,” he said loyally.
“This is home now,” said his mother.
Siva stared hard at the place that would be his new home. No, he thought fiercely, it would never be home. Dad would soon realise the folly of his ways and they would go back. He would play hide and seek with Gopi again.
Siva sulked the whole day. Gopi had promised to call at six. He looked at the clock in despair. He had been gone only for a day and Gopi was already breaking promises.
His thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell. Their new neighbours. A young couple and their eight year old son. A thin boy with curly mop of hair. He was holding a beautiful kite under his arm.
The shiny orange and blue of the kite caught Siva’s eye. His heart raced. How he loved flying kites. Oh, to fly a kite as lovely as this!
The thin boy stuck out his hand. “Friends?”
Siva nodded shyly.
“Let’s go fly this,” suggested the thin boy.
Siva’s face lit up at the suggestion.
As the boys ran up the stairs, Siva’s parents exchanged relieved looks. His father called out, “Hey, what should I say if Gopi calls?”
Siva didn’t break a step as he flung back, “Tell him I’ll call him back.”
Chennai based Vibha Batra has a Masters in Communication from the University of Madras. A copywriter by profession, she has worked in some of the leading advertising agencies in the country. Her first book Ishaavaasya Upanishad, a translation of her grandfather’s (the late scholar Vishnu Kant Shastri) book, was published by Rupa and Co in 2007. Her poetry collection titled Tongue-in-cheek was published by Writers Workshop in 2008. Her collection of short stories 'A Twist of Lime' was published last year by Think Big Publishers. Her short stories and poems have appeared in various literary magazines and anthologies. She is an avid blogger and is currently working on her next book, a novel.
Siva was angry with his parents. This wasn’t the first time he was angry with them. He remembered the first time they told him that they were moving to Valmiki Nagar, a far flung suburb of Chennai. He had shut himself in his room. Refused to come out, discuss or see reason. He couldn’t understand why they were doing this. They were perfectly happy in Anna Nagar.
“It will be better there,” his father had said reassuringly.
“How will it be better there,” Siva argued. “My building friends won’t be there.”
“You will make new friends.”
“Easy for you to say that. Why can’t you leave me with Gopi?”
Gopi was his next door neighbour. And best friend. They went to the same school in the morning, the same park in the evening and frequently stayed over at each other’s place at night. Siva couldn’t imagine a life without Gopi.
“You will find another Gopi in Valmiki Nagar.” His mother said with a laugh.
Siva shot her a look of pure hatred. She just didn’t understand. He tried reasoning with his father.
“Pa, please put me in a hostel here.”
“No, Sivanand,” said his father using his full name. He usually reserved it for grown up conversations such as this one.
Siva didn’t feel like much of a grown up at this time. He didn’t think he was ‘acting childish’ (as ma put it) by refusing to go to a new place.
Of course, in the end, he had no choice. On the day of departure, Siva was inconsolable. He hugged Gopi as if he would never let him go. The boys finally had to dragged apart. “I will come back soon, Gopi. You will see. I will never forget you. I will call you everyday,” promised Siva, tears streaming down his cheeks.
Siva’s dad was worried. He knew Siva had taken the move badly. He just hoped Siva liked his new home and made friends there fast enough.
When they landed at the new apartment, Siva wrinkled his nose in apparent disgust. He cast a critical eye around. “Oh, this place is so dusty. Our building was so clean.”
“Not really, Siva. Don’t you remember the big garbage dump right next door?”
Of course, Siva remembered. How could he forget? It was home, after all. “Still, it was better than this. It was home,” he said loyally.
“This is home now,” said his mother.
Siva stared hard at the place that would be his new home. No, he thought fiercely, it would never be home. Dad would soon realise the folly of his ways and they would go back. He would play hide and seek with Gopi again.
Siva sulked the whole day. Gopi had promised to call at six. He looked at the clock in despair. He had been gone only for a day and Gopi was already breaking promises.
His thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell. Their new neighbours. A young couple and their eight year old son. A thin boy with curly mop of hair. He was holding a beautiful kite under his arm.
The shiny orange and blue of the kite caught Siva’s eye. His heart raced. How he loved flying kites. Oh, to fly a kite as lovely as this!
The thin boy stuck out his hand. “Friends?”
Siva nodded shyly.
“Let’s go fly this,” suggested the thin boy.
Siva’s face lit up at the suggestion.
As the boys ran up the stairs, Siva’s parents exchanged relieved looks. His father called out, “Hey, what should I say if Gopi calls?”
Siva didn’t break a step as he flung back, “Tell him I’ll call him back.”
Chennai based Vibha Batra has a Masters in Communication from the University of Madras. A copywriter by profession, she has worked in some of the leading advertising agencies in the country. Her first book Ishaavaasya Upanishad, a translation of her grandfather’s (the late scholar Vishnu Kant Shastri) book, was published by Rupa and Co in 2007. Her poetry collection titled Tongue-in-cheek was published by Writers Workshop in 2008. Her collection of short stories 'A Twist of Lime' was published last year by Think Big Publishers. Her short stories and poems have appeared in various literary magazines and anthologies. She is an avid blogger and is currently working on her next book, a novel.
