Friendship Short Story – Nostalgic Moments
Photo credit: bosela from morguefile.com
The sun had just begun to illustrate its luminosity from the sides of the V shaped ravine of the gargantuan mountains. The cold water curving itself within the precincts of the nearby creek made a gargling sound as it stirred past the a voluminous bend, on the bank of which, my home was located. The only other inmate of the house Chandrabhan or Chandu, as everyone called him was a potter by profession. He spent hours altogether making cups and pots of various sizes wherein I always looked at him and wondered, whether anyone in the today’s world would ever even buy his mud cups and earthen pots.
“Come on man …it’s the 21st century” was what I always have wanted to tell him, but could never succeed. At times, I could not gather courage to revolt against his only living; at others he never succeeded to understand my voice. He loved me though a lot, and I loved him too. Both of us existed within the limits of understanding and loving each other. Whenever I was late to return home, I always found him waiting eagerly for me at the door and whenever he was late after returning from the nearby village market (where he went to sell his pottery), I would look for him all alongside the brook, till I found him and used to accompany him on his way back to our residence.
Pottery was not just a profession for Chandu, it was his passion too, which he simply refused to give up. If he wanted, he could have easily got a job as a worker in the nearby built chemical factory. His close friend, Raghuveer had left his shoe mending business to join the factory and the decision had paid him well, both in terms of money as well as convenience. But my dear friend Chandu was a slave of his passion and was too hard a nut to crack.
He always sang an ancient song which appear to have originated from some prehistoric times… “O Majhi re……”, whenever he used to make pots. The song seems to pump some super energy in him as he never gets tired of working whenever he is singing and because he does not get tired, he keeps on singing as long as he is working. I somehow do not like the song, it’s not of my era, not my types, too slow and slothful for a young and pretty lass like me. I prefer the fast and peppy numbers of today’s world, Baby Doll being my favorite. Though I don’t understand it much, but I love the beats and music that I heard while the song was being played at the nearby Pan shop. I spend hours there almost every day while Chandu is out to the nearby parish.
The Pan shop is roughly 200 mts away from my home, under the silhouette of an infinitely spread banyan tree. The stream flows near by the shop too and is copiously used by the shop owner, Ram Bharose to clean himself as well as his shop.
Ram Bharose is a tall, well built man, with moustaches as big as the leash of a bullock cart. He dresses them beautifully too on top of his face making a perfect roundel depicting his adroit dressing sense and his proclivity towards ancient fashion. I take a sneak look at him and his well built physique every day when I go for my morning walk as he is busy bathing in the stream. He, however never seems to notice me whenever I am admiring his natural splendor and masculinity. I even stopover his shop during the day, when he is busy gratifying his clientele by serving them diverse varieties of handmade Pans. I gaze at him for hours sitting on one of the roots of the banyan tree which has formed itself to resemble a magnificent chaise longue. He still, ignores me throughout the day and then it’s time for me to return. Chandu worries for me if I am not home before he returns, so I prefer returning before he steps in, or meet him midway and walk home alongside.
You might be wondering, how am I related to Chandu…..so to overcome your inquisitiveness , I would tell you that he is not related to me, he met me an year back and since then we have stayed together, as faithful live-in partners. We trust each other, accept each other and love each other. I met him last year during the yearly Mela organized in the honor of lord Shiva.
I was an orphan by birth and wandered in the gathering in search of some food. I was young and beautiful but was hungry too as I had not eaten for days and therefore appeared incredibly frail. My otherwise austerely pleated, silky hair, were in a mess due to the dust and muck. I hadn’t bathed too in the last few days. Chandu had come to the Mela to sell his handmade pots and multihued toys. As I moved in front of his stall, I looked at him with a gaze full of helplessness and need. He disregarded me completely, in the first look, but then thought something and helped me sit near him. I badly needed food and shelter and Chandu gave me both. He brought me home and shared his meal with me. By the evening, I was as glorious as ever before and was blossoming with vigor and youth.
Chandu made me sleep, right next to him comforting me and covering me with his half torn blanket. He shared whatever he had with me and made me feel like a princess. The next day when I had regained all my energy and strength, we spent hours together, playing various childish games. He was a child by heart and was extremely adorable. I loved him a lot from the moment he accepted me in the Mela. I felt extremely nostalgic when he held me in his arms and kissed me. I wanted to return him the love he bestowed upon me, I wanted to love him back with the same zeal and admiration with which he held me in his arms. I wanted to love him back selflessly and aimlessly and that I did.
I went close to him, sat next to him feeling his soft touch on my body, a touch that made my nerves go exceptionally receptive, a touch that made my heart beat faster and my soul to immerse in love and gratification. I returned his love by the loveliest gesture I could have ever done for any man in my life. I gave him all I could to my man who gave me a new life….. I licked his feet like a truthful and honest friend and circled around his legs to show my utmost affection and honesty towards my master. After all I was his favorite and faithful dog.
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