A Measure of Strength

“Don't walk behind me; I may not lead. Don't walk in front of me; I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend.” ― Albert Camus

 I ran up the stairs. I knew there were seventy-seven of them and then came the clearing, a rock supports the rest of the ground and  muddy earth leads to the clearing. The  elevated area is like the tableland near Panchgani. It is long, planted with trees all around. A railing surrounds the tableland and the whole area has a lawn ‘beautiful  and well maintained’. One can see the exquisite beauty of the place and the city from here. There is a lone tree growing in a small secluded area in the centre making it appear like the tree in the movie ‘Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban’. The railing is broken and its supports are missing as someone has been stealthily  selling its iron parts bit by bit. The view from the place keeps one spellbound to notice all these trivial things. I rushed to my favourite spot as there was no one today morning. I even knew that in a few more seconds people would begin pouring to exercise and watch the shimmering ball of sun rise. It was chilly and cold due to the sudden change in the weather. The sky was a deep Prussian blue, orange strips with  lighter shades of blue and nearing us was the dark blue canopy. 

Far away, I could see the flickering street lights and a puff of smoke rising in a distant place making us aware of people living there. The crown of tall trees gently jogged with the breeze transforming them akin to the life of man  in generating warmth. I thanked God for having bestowed me this beautiful moment. I missed my friend terribly who is also a nature lover. She lives just a street across but finds it difficult to make it in the morning due to her busy schedule. Perhaps if she were with me we would have planned to draw and paint a canvas of this morning glory. The canvas I began last year was a memoir of discussions we had regarding the theme and colours. Our demanding timetable these days hinders us from enjoying these interests together which we cherish in our conversations. Ruskin Bond says,

‘Friendship is all about doing things together. It may be climbing a mountain, fishing in a mountain stream, cycling along a country road, camping in a forest clearing or simply traveling together and sharing experiences that a new place can bring’.

Marriage is an emotional bond of friendship where one wishes to share all the small and large experiences with their life partner. I recalled my recent  visit to a professor’s place. She is a doctorate and may have been more than a professor due to the numerous years she put in teaching the students in a medical college. She lives in  Aundh which is one of the best places in Pune. The tranquillity of the place was unmatched once upon a time. It has  now turned into a commercial hub. I rang their doorbell to be greeted by a lady who seemed to be in her late fifties or one may say early sixties. She was clad in a salwar kameez and a soft embroidered dupatta spread across her shoulders. She had tied her hair into a bun and was wearing  comfortable chappals to protect her feet. She had a solemn look but a lovely voice. I found her hands and feet well looked after and  her face supple making her appear young yet  her smile  was missing. She looked utmost beautiful but carried great pain within her. I was soon joined by my husband. She was my husband’s  maternal aunt’s colleague in the medical college till her retirement. As we began conversing, I saw the lady opening up with a smile. She is a Maharashtrian but has a Malayalam accent which was strange. She told us that  she had lived in Kerala for forty-five years with her husband, which had perhaps contributed that characteristic accent. I gradually came to know that her husband was one of the Directors at ISRO in Trivandrum. We had gone to meet her after she had lost her husband in a morning walk due to a massive heart attack. She spoke lovingly about him. She said that he had never visited her house at Aundh because they never planned to come back to Pune from Kerala. She said that the house would have been better planned and constructed had her husband been with her. I found the house spacious and well kept, but she cherished those lovely memories at Kerala which must have bonded her to her husband. I asked her what made her come back. She said that she had her brother and other relatives here, but I felt she had made the biggest compromise in her life leaving all those beautiful memories which could have helped her move on in life. We got ready to leave. Her maid, a young lady had entered the house through another door. I did not see much of her as she was fully covered  in  a saree with only her face visible. The lady told me that her maid stayed back during the nights. We felt we would help her with the cups, we entered the kitchen to encounter the maid. We quickly placed the things followed by the professor. 

They say books are our best friends so were they for the professor who is in the process of churning out her third book for the medical college students. I found that her pain had taught her to befriend the maid who was lonely perhaps not loved by people as we understood her. It reminded me of Sudha Murty’s words which convey that a few circumstances like Tsunami, floods or the life of a person are beyond man’s control. Perhaps her bonding with her husband had left many beautiful memories but she believes in being a memory in the hearts of people who will live on, perhaps  the measure of  bonding or friendship is a measure of our own strengths.

“Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.” 

― Lao Tzu