jasbir, baby pal

he used to have really thin, spindly legs. that's an early memory. that, and a horrid yellow bicycle that none of the guys in school would have been caught dead standing next to. the smile has remained pretty much the same, which, after 16 years, really does define consistency.

'maybe we should ask him to be a part of our group,' my best friend anselm said, one evening, 16 years ago. 'you think we should?' i asked. i was president of the 'group' after all, and so what if anselm and i were the only members? 'yes, we should. he has these cool blue, denim pouches and some keychain-cum-bottle-openers that he’s been giving away free,' said anselm, with business acumen that would evaporate soon after he met his wife-to-be a decade later. 'good reason,' i nodded.

so, we called him, spoke, invited him over to anselm's terrace and ran him through our battery of tests: 'climbing a pole from point A to point B', 'hanging on to said pole for over 2 minutes', 'jumping down from the water tank above on to the terrace floor'. i'm not quite sure he passed. but then, i'm not sure we had either, so we decided to tell him he had passed. he was in.

something must have been right about that morning, at 11 am, something in the sleeping stars, as the three of us looked out across Anselm's terrace, over the buildings in Malad, to the line of blue hills in the distance. we must have smiled at each other, but I don’t remember. What i do remember is a recurring feeling of absolute peace and comfort that i first felt in the presence of those young, slim schoolboys, all those years ago.

16 years is a long time to spend with anyone. i know few couples that manage it, and i suppose they still have access to sex as a resort when lines of communication turn weak. jas and i don't sleep together, although a number of people have wondered, over the years, whether we have. well, we haven't. he has always been too obsessed with women, and even though i haven't shared the same interest with such avidity, i find images of naked men revolting enough to know that i'm straight.

we're radically different, jas and i. he likes his music to play softly, liltingly, even if the singer is singing about getting a hernia. i like my music to grab me by the heart and shake it till i pant a little. his idea of reading is browsing through the classifieds for information on unmarried women who may be interested. my idea of reading is locking myself in, quitting my job and doing nothing else but study literature for a couple of years.

then again, we are pretty much alike, jas and i. he knows what i'm going to say before is say it. i know when he's saying something funny without actually putting it in words. so, like an elderly couple, we dawdle through pubs and restaurants, movies and picnics. i meet his new girlfriends, while he suffers through my many comments on life and language, but we manage to cling to each other like a couple in love. his girlfriends usually are, at some point, jealous of me. or scared. or pissed off about my mere existence. he pacifies them, waves goodbye and promptly calls me for a quick drink. i, on the other hand, stare out windows, meet all kinds of people, and always manage to feel empty if i haven't seen him for a couple of days.

so much has changed. and yet, so little. there have been other friends, and anselm now has a 6-month old son now. it's difficult to juxtapose those two images -- one, of him in his blue shorts messy hair and big glasses at 11 am. And two, of him standing quietly, confidently, right next to me, a day older than i am and yet someone who had managed to create life. i remember jas and I that morning, it could have been 11 am again, standing on either side of him, looking at him hold his son, and looking at his son look up at him with baby eyes. so much has changed. and yet, so very little.