Friends United

In the photograph, from left to right, Nagarajan, Ilango, Meganathan, Saravanan, Anand, and I (Ramesh). And in the other photograph - Ilango and Megu. I met Megu on 28-Sep-08 after 10 long years and the sight of him brought tears in my eyes. I remember the last time I cried was when my Father died in 1997.
I have to tell about Megu, the conqueror of death and a symbol of perseverence and dignity. We should at least go back 22 years, precisely 1986 - we bought our own Dyanora color television (it still works!), Argentina won the soccer world cup, I became a fan of Maradona, Matthaeus and Careca. It was the period when all friends were together meeting almost everyday. I was three years junior among the lot. But still friends are friends. Meganathan sported a mannish moustache and aspired to become an SI of Police. He was all energy and wit. Ilango was a Javelin and discus thrower, and sported muscles which we were all kinda jealous. Nagarajan was minting money in his Father's business and counting it to pass time. Anand looked after his textile mill and was on the lookout for right technology and oppurtunity to automate the mill. Saravanan was his jolly self. Murali was trying to find a job and settle and ... Megu, used to be dynamic and enthusiastic all the time. We always wondered how he managed to do that. Later I would emulate him and till day rejoice at the feeling on having imitated him. It was a time when we had less worries and enjoying the youth. All these have to change!

We flew to catch up with time and in search of materialistic things - a pity it still rules the life. We met each other during vacations and spoke over phone when time permitted - time became a constraint even for spending time with/for friends. But all was not well with few of us. Megu was looking for a right job of his taste when he met with the accident of his life, right on Anna Salai with his skull open for the Chennai dust to settle in...

He was until recently dumb and had forgotten almost all of the past, when he sprang back into life with recollection of key events and able to talk in feebly decipherable tongue. He has reached his maximum cure, the doctor says - little recollection of the past, feebly decipherable speech, paralysed left arm and left leg, and with no support. He's not going to be that enthusiastic, elagant, agile, exemplary Megu he used to be, but Megu is Megu!

He now stays in a village quarry supervising the truck loads, washes his clothes himself with one arm and a leg, manages his food, prays to God, never gets angry even when exposed to severe provocation, and smiling all the time. Though down the lane, his wife and child left him, he carries on because of his never-be-slump attitude. We friends are there to encourage and help him but he neves asks for them and I think he doesn't even know the value of materialistic things now. He doesn't know about his future. His is a small world, a very small world. But you can learn a lot from seeing and talking with this simple, ever happy man!