My Five Best Friends

I walk a lonely road, perhaps the only road. The road is more like a circle, perhaps a viscious circle. Cause I do not find any end to it. There may be breaks but no end to it.

The daily buses are mostly crowded, yet sometimes I don't see the crowd, perhaps cant see the crowd. It seldom happens that a full bus seems haunted empty. Sometimes I hate the crowd and sometimes I miss the crowd. They are sometimes annoyingly needed yet sometimes they are desperately wished away.

The road may be lonely, or perhaps I find it lonely, starts every morning 8:30. Then starts the struggle, I call it the anti-loneliness struggle. Struggle to get the bus on time, to get a seat on time, to get the window seat. The window seat, so that I can spend time with my new best friend. The City crowd.

Watching people go to work, kids go to school, the couples standing at the bus stop who just can't take their eyes of each other yet cannot look in each others eyes. People say talking ones heart out is a good way to reduce inner pain. BUT sometimes, when you start talking to your new best friends you start remembering the old memories.
However in my case I don't do the talking I just watch. Watch them making noise, fighting with traffic police, arguing with their spouse, protecting their children, watch them admiring the girl around the corner, watch 'him' protect 'her' from the crowd, watch 'her' hold 'his' hands while crossing the roads.

Basically, I watch them having their share of struggle just as they are watching me.

All these brings back memories. Things that I used to do for others, things that others used to do for me. Memories that I was trying to forget by living a life full of struggle. Because this struggle is far better than the struggle to forget the heartbeats that once belonged to me, the heartbeats that I devoted to someone else.

"I am upset now, I am not interested in your struggles or your stories, or your actions" Thats what I tell my best friend and start looking at the clouds, the sky, the trees. For a city, Bangalore has been blessed by the nature. Then there is slight desire, "Bangalore sure is a nice place, infact its beautiful enough to spend the rest of one's life with the love of his life, wish you could be here with me, wish I could show you all the beauty that I see everyday, wish we could get drenched in the city rain together, wish that we could enjoy the winds through our hairs"

With this same desire, everyday, I wish if I only could hold her hands once again, however, the only thing my fingers are allowed to do is to tune into the next band. The FM, my another best friend, is there to sing songs, play music, share stupid & not so stupid jokes. Its there to talk to about a world that would least interest me. But the bottom line is, its there with me.

Recently I found a new best friend, Zahir. The road wasn't lonely after I found Zahir. A friend who made sure that I wasn't lonely anymore, that I had my thoughts full with his stories. This friend has a lot to share, his stories bout his wife, about his girlfriends, about his author. He has enough to share, that I don't count the clock ticks anymore infact I don't need to think about the other two friends. But unknown to the fact that even his words sometimes start hurting, they
start revealing what I crave to forget and then I close the book for the day.

This is how I punish Zahir, I get back to changing bands than turning pages.

Once I reach office I do not spend time with any of these, I have another best friend waiting for me, My Work. He makes sure that I am no more an emotional fool but a programming intellectual. He makes sure that all I think of is what he wants me to think. He has been successful so far, letting me get rid of my pain, my struggle, my worries as well as my dreams. The entire day, its just me and my dear work. He however promises that all things that he makes me do are for the betterment of my future and for the joys of my present. However, if by any chance he is not there, I feel like standing on the same lonely road, again. No one to share with, no one to talk to, no one to trust upon.

As the sun moves towards west, the time to bid goodbye reaches nearer. Finally I get back home. Home, where my dearest and my best-est friend waits for me, my pillow. He is right there all alone waiting for me, waiting to give me a hug. His hug may not be as tender as my mom's. It may not be as warm as my girl friend's. It may not be as supportive as my best friend's. But, its always available to me, and only me. I can rest my head on him, hug him tighter than ever,
soak him with my tears, fill him with my dreams, even throw him away when I'm angry, but he won't complain. He is there all night to take care of me, to make me forget my past sorrows, forget my present struggle, forget my future worries. He is there to let me be myself. He is there to prepare me for the next day's struggle, motivate me to have faith in my other four best friends, make me understand their importance in my life.


I do not know whether I was destined to walk this lonely road, or whether I chose to walk this road. I do know one thing, this is a Lonely Road, to pe precise 'The Only Road' that I can walk. And I also know that as long as I walk this road, I will always have the support of my five best friends, with me.