My brothers best friend

I watched a Youtube video of Mandar playing the mouth organ and Guitar simultaneously. The mouth organ was mounted on a fixed stand and Mandar had to bend to make sure his lips touched the device. He played a tune on a Hindi song and played it beautifully. Mandar was my brother’s best friend when my brother went to college. My brother is 11 years older to me and so is Mandar. But, that had not stopped a close friendship developing between Mandar and me when I was a kid.

Mandar owned a huge dark green bicycle. My earliest memory of it is when my brother had a fall while riding it. That afternoon, my sister was applying an antiseptic medication to my brother’s knees, which were badly bruised as blood did not stop trickling. Brother was groaning with pain at the top of his voice as my sister tried to calm him and apply the cotton soaked with the medicine on his knees. There were tears in his eyes as the medicine started having its effect. I had never seen my big brother in such pain and eventually got to know from my mother that brother had a nasty fall on Mandar’s bicycle. I stepped outside to take a look at the menacing bicycle, only to find that it seemed normal without any scratches on it. It seemed unaffected.

The bicycle was the biggest and the sturdiest bicycle I had seen then. It had a handle grip cover which was bright green and had pointed things on it to help grip the handle. I frequently gripped them and imagined riding on the beast and had an itchy and a slightly painful sensation. I could not hold it for more than a minute. The seat was as high as my neck and the beast’s weight was tremendous. More than anything, it could make my big brother cry. It had to be something extremely difficult to conquer. How in the world did Mandar manage to ride it without getting hurt. He must be a really strong guy.

Mandar visited our house frequently and he always chatted with me. While talking to him, it never occurred that I was talking to someone of my brother’s age. He seemed to be very interested in listening to my tales and I liked to listen to his. I liked to tell him a lot of silly jokes and he found them really funny. He listened to all my stock of jokes on a single day and I used to make sure that I have something new, the next time he came.“Two ants are walking in a single line. The first ant says there is an ant behind me. The second says that there 2 ants in front of me. How is it possible?” I posed the question and Mandar pretended to think hard. Excited that he could not get the answer, I announced, “The second ant was lying!” And he laughed out aloud unable to control himself.

As our friendship developed further, when he visited our house and my brother wasn’t around, he took me for rides on his bicycle – the beast. I remember the pride and the thrill I experienced when I climbed on the pedal and sat on his bicycle for a double seat ride, the very first time. He always asked me whether I was comfortable and ready for the ride. After an assurance from me, he would take a run up and hop on to the bicycle. He called the beast a ‘horse’ and from that day it was a horse for me too.

The first few times, we went on our rides, he took me around in the suburb of Mulund – East, where I lived. My school used to be the farthest place for me and we went near it. It was thrilling to sit high on the bicycle and feel the breeze on the face as he showed me some areas of Mulund – East, where I had never gone. We went to a creek which was on the other end of my school, where Mandar did fishing when he was a kid. As we started going for the rides regularly, we got bored of the same places and so we started exploring the Mulund – West area. I was not familiar with most of the areas there and it felt adventurous to explore new areas and new roads.

It was during one of the rides that Mandar mentioned to me that earth was round. It was a total shock to me. “Imagine an elephant walking away from you. Will you see it smaller as it goes farther away from you ?” he asked. I agreed and it suddenly made sense that earth was indeed round. The next question was, “If earth is round, then if I go to it’s edge and jump, will I fall down ?” The conversation continued and when I came home, I talked about earth being round with everyone in my house and for the next couple of days with every person I spoke to.

As our cycle rides continued, we had covered most of Mulund – west too and I knew many of the roads there. It was time to go even farther and so he took me to the next suburb – Thane. I had hardly every gone to Thane, maybe once or twice, holding my fathers hand. Going there on a bicycle and that too without my father was like going to a foreign country. Those days, it felt as if I new the world and after every ride I proudly narrated our rides to my school friends, the next day, as my friends heard me in awe.

In one of the science projects in my school, I needed some help in creating a working model of earth revolving on its own axis and I had to keep the earth in a cage. Mandar had visited my school and helped my group and getting this model to work. He had done this during his study leave, sacrificing his precious study time for me. That really felt special.

As I grew up and Mandar got a job, our bicycle trips stopped completely. He had purchased a motorcycle and it not even half the fun going on the motorcycle. We continued to meet but much less. I missed those bicycle rides but by then I had purchased my own bicycle and I had started traveling the same roads which we once went. After the last day of my final examinations in seventh grade, I had taken three of my school friends to Thane by the same road which Mandar had once taken me. I was the proud navigator of the group that day.

As it turned out after many years, Mandar became my brother’s brother-in-law. Yes, my brother was courting Mandar’s sister all these days when we went for the rides. Suddenly, it felt as if Mandar filled the gap for my brother and did what my brother would have otherwise done. Oddly enough, after the relationship formalized, we met even more infrequently.

Last year, my wife and I met Mandar in a Starbucks in New York city. He was in the US on a business trip and we managed to squeeze in some time from our lunch break. My wife and I must have chatted with him for about an hour and he had to leave. We mostly talked about life in the US and the times we had shared together during my childhood, mainly the rides on the horse.

Swimming Googles

I walk out of the bathroom after a lazy long bath on a Sunday afternoon. Water is dripping all over from my body and as I enter the walk-in closet, I take notice of my swimming goggles. Without thinking, I wear them and feel the energy developing in my body. Charged up, I walk out of the closet, ready to enjoy the Sunday remaining.

Back then, water used to be such a scary thing that being able to swim was like a special gift endowed by the almighty to a fortunate few. Memories of being pushed down a 100 feet deep well in my village and saved later by my dear brother, but coming out coughing, panting, gulping water, did not help assuage my fears. Whenever I saw an expert swimmer cruising gracefully in water, I was always envious. I secretly yearned to swim as gracefully and be fearless of water like.

A new friend, who was a regular swimmer, encouraged me to join him and try to learn. I was hesitant, remembering the episode of village well. Coughing momentarily and dreaming of making confident strokes in water, I took up the offer.

Once in water, the sight of six year olds making butterfly strokes embarrassed me while I was moving all my body parts, trying to stay afloat despite the float around my waist. How can they swim so well, when it is impossible to even breathe and stop the water entering my eyes, I thought to myself. The friend just reminded me to not stop kicking and keep trying. It was the end of first week and my float came off, but I was still splashing buckets of water all around the place and ignoring the glances of people around. One of the most bothered of all suggested the use of a good pair of goggles and keeping the head down.

Head down, goggles on, my body was much straighter and I immediately felt the difference. The best part was watching the tiles at the bottom of the pool, shinning in the underwater lights and going back as I launch myself ahead. Very soon I completed one full lap of the full. That was a fine milestone for me and I treated the goggle adviser with a free evening snack that day.

Goggles kept me focused on doing the basics right – legs straight, hands stretched, breathe the right way. They killed the biggest distraction by not letting a single drop of water in my eyes. Soon I learnt to do back stroke and it felt like I was floating on a blanket of clouds. A few times it rained and cold rain drops over my body and warm water of the pool made me feel like I was a part of the water world. I felt like a fish, free and ready to explore the pool, now that I was confident that my stamina won’t run me out. It was amazing how the stamina just builds up with constant practice as I was soon doing marathon laps.

My hectic days winded up with the marathon laps and every single day I emerged out of the pool feeling energized. Time in the pool was my time off from the world – time with myself, my thoughts and my ideas. At times, I solved some complex calculus problem in my mind and made some of the best decisions while doing those memorable laps.

Every time I wear my goggles in my wardrobe, I remember my initial fear of water, my willingness to learn swimming and then my journey of becoming a good swimmer. There is no looking back now.