He was my best friend in the university, and he was simply the best.
Most of the days we would travel to our respective Delhi University
colleges together, which was some 20 kms from our homes. Many a times we
would make the return journey together too. With him, I felt as if my
introvert personality had found peace with another introvert
personality. I wanted our friendship to be forever, but then, all wishes
don’t come true.
My friend, this extremely intelligent but very shy boy, was hiding a secret. I still don’t know how he managed to keep it hidden from me, but nevertheless, he did. When it was time for him to let it out of the bag, he developed cold feet. Our friendship broke, but what hurt more was that I didn’t know why. This was in 2008.
I kept searching for answers without any luck. No, I wasn’t roaming around with a magnifying glass or torch, but I would try to start conversations with common friends. With my busy work schedule, I had to eventually lose hope.
One day, a call came. I would prefer to call it a small atom bomb... my own little boy or fat man. Here was the secret my friend had been hiding for years, and I was being told about it on the phone by someone else. I wouldn’t like to reveal it here, and someone’s secret is not why I am writing this post. My reason is much bigger, if understood.
That day I wanted to run and give my friend one big bear hug. I wanted to tell him how sorry I am for not even being worthy enough of his secret. I couldn’t do any of those. I had somehow obtained his new number, but I didn’t call.
Today, after almost seven years since I met my friend last, I sent him a text on WhatsApp.
There were no sorrys, no tears, no past. I was stuck with something I was reading and the only person I could think of was him. As upfront as I usually am now, I just asked him my query.
Bang came his response, ‘I am sorry, but who is this?’
‘Poorva here. I know you might block me after knowing my name, but my intentions are not wrong. I never intended to not tell you my name. I thought it would come on WhatsApp.’
‘Hi Poorva. Hope you are good.’ The response was delayed, but it came.
‘Ya... I am good, hope you too are. See, I am stuck here, in this problem. Can you help?’
‘Yes... do this...’
‘Thanks man. And listen, I forgive you and hope you forgave me too.’
No response.
‘May I come back for help if you are okay or are you going to block me?’
‘Let me know if required. I will try to help.’
‘Thanks. Good night.’
‘Good night.’
In between my small query, I had solved the big one. This was an apology to a friend I had been wanting to make for years, but never could. Either there was no courage, or a lot of hesitation.
My Baaji once told me a story which has taught me numerous lessons...
A teacher asked her 10-year-old students how many enemies they have. Some said two, some three, and some even ten. The teacher then asked the students to carry as many potatoes as the number of enemies each one had. The students were supposed to carry these potatoes for a month. A week passed, then two weeks. The potatoes started to rot and give a foul smell. Still the students had to continue carrying them for a month. Into the third week, the students could not bear it at all. They requested their teacher if they could stop, to which the teacher taught them the lesson for life:
‘The more potatoes you carried, the
more number of days you carried them, the more tired you became. Then
came a point when you couldn’t tolerate the rotting smell, but you had
to continue carrying them. The potatoes you were carrying represented
your enemies, your egos, and your worries. Imagine how your heart must
be coping up with so many rotten potatoes you have been carrying for
years. Let go of them.’
When I spoke to my friend today, I let go of one of the heaviest and smelliest potatoes I had been carrying for seven years. Though there was no response by him to my apology, the blue ticks on WhatsApp told me he had read it. The good night from his side just confirmed that my message had been conveyed and most probably accepted.
You have no idea how light I am feeling right now, sitting here and writing this post. And if you want to get the slightest idea, identify your potatoes and just let go of them.
http://poorvajain.com/two-blue-ticks-and-a-heavy-rotten-potato/
My friend, this extremely intelligent but very shy boy, was hiding a secret. I still don’t know how he managed to keep it hidden from me, but nevertheless, he did. When it was time for him to let it out of the bag, he developed cold feet. Our friendship broke, but what hurt more was that I didn’t know why. This was in 2008.
I kept searching for answers without any luck. No, I wasn’t roaming around with a magnifying glass or torch, but I would try to start conversations with common friends. With my busy work schedule, I had to eventually lose hope.
One day, a call came. I would prefer to call it a small atom bomb... my own little boy or fat man. Here was the secret my friend had been hiding for years, and I was being told about it on the phone by someone else. I wouldn’t like to reveal it here, and someone’s secret is not why I am writing this post. My reason is much bigger, if understood.
That day I wanted to run and give my friend one big bear hug. I wanted to tell him how sorry I am for not even being worthy enough of his secret. I couldn’t do any of those. I had somehow obtained his new number, but I didn’t call.
Today, after almost seven years since I met my friend last, I sent him a text on WhatsApp.
There were no sorrys, no tears, no past. I was stuck with something I was reading and the only person I could think of was him. As upfront as I usually am now, I just asked him my query.
Bang came his response, ‘I am sorry, but who is this?’
‘Poorva here. I know you might block me after knowing my name, but my intentions are not wrong. I never intended to not tell you my name. I thought it would come on WhatsApp.’
‘Hi Poorva. Hope you are good.’ The response was delayed, but it came.
‘Ya... I am good, hope you too are. See, I am stuck here, in this problem. Can you help?’
‘Yes... do this...’
‘Thanks man. And listen, I forgive you and hope you forgave me too.’
No response.
‘May I come back for help if you are okay or are you going to block me?’
‘Let me know if required. I will try to help.’
‘Thanks. Good night.’
‘Good night.’
In between my small query, I had solved the big one. This was an apology to a friend I had been wanting to make for years, but never could. Either there was no courage, or a lot of hesitation.
My Baaji once told me a story which has taught me numerous lessons...
A teacher asked her 10-year-old students how many enemies they have. Some said two, some three, and some even ten. The teacher then asked the students to carry as many potatoes as the number of enemies each one had. The students were supposed to carry these potatoes for a month. A week passed, then two weeks. The potatoes started to rot and give a foul smell. Still the students had to continue carrying them for a month. Into the third week, the students could not bear it at all. They requested their teacher if they could stop, to which the teacher taught them the lesson for life:
When I spoke to my friend today, I let go of one of the heaviest and smelliest potatoes I had been carrying for seven years. Though there was no response by him to my apology, the blue ticks on WhatsApp told me he had read it. The good night from his side just confirmed that my message had been conveyed and most probably accepted.
You have no idea how light I am feeling right now, sitting here and writing this post. And if you want to get the slightest idea, identify your potatoes and just let go of them.
http://poorvajain.com/two-blue-ticks-and-a-heavy-rotten-potato/
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