One of the very first things I had mentioned to my wife, after we got married, was:
‘Wow! You have a lot of friends.'
For which she replied, ‘No, I have a normal number of friends; you have very few friends.'
The year was 2003. It was my first time away from home - in my college, and me being a introvert and sort of a misnomer, had very few friends. I was in talking basis with the guys in the neighbouring rooms in hostel, and a few people ahead of me and behind me in roll calls.
One evening, Jai, from a few rooms next to mine, knocks my door and says ‘Come lets go to the shop in front, for tea and snacks’. I replied, ‘ No! I will wait for 4.30pm for tea from hostel mess.’ (I was also famously stingy then :D). Jai sensed what was going on in my mind and says ‘It’s ok, Jo is paying. He only asked me to get some people.’ I reply that I don’t really know Jo. For which Jai reverts ‘It’s ok. He is next to my room. I also don’t know him that much. Come there is also Maggi noodles there.’
And that’s how I became friends with Jo. Jo was one of the very first people I could easily interact with, in my college. Again, that was mostly because of Jo. He was easy going and could have a conversation with anyone, about anything. Sometimes he knew what he was talking, but most times he would happily spin some story to keep the other person entertained.
A lot of evenings in my first year of college, was spent in Jai’s room, where me, Jo and a few others would assemble for some chitchat, and then proceed to the ‘anna’s shop’ outside malligai illam (hostel) , where we would fill our tummies at Jo’s expense. Sometimes even without Jo, we will go to anna’s shop, have our fill, and ask it to be added to Jo’s account. Jo never minded (or maybe, he never knew!!).
Jo had a lot of ‘model’ girlfriends. Or at the least, he claimed he did. Apparently he had a modelling stint, before he joined MBBS. Sometimes, he used to put them on speakerphone and make us talk to them, and have fun at our expense. One ‘model’ proclaimed ‘You have the worst friends ever’. I remember Jo enthusiastically replying, ‘No. They are the best friends ever.’
One day, Jo said ‘Lets go for a ride in my SUV’. An ignorant me queried, ‘Whats an SUV?’. Jo rolled his eyes and said, ‘Come out, an you will know’. It was a gorgeous Mitsubishi Pajero, Black and White I think. Apparently, his grandfather was in town for a week, and his car was with Jo for a week. My sorry ass had never been in a car that big, and after a ride around the university in it, I was screaming ‘Hey it’s Pajero Man’ for a week.
Sometime during MBBS year 1, Jo moved out of hostel, rented a home outside, and became a day scholar. And at the end of year 1, he was crazy enough to think he will pass after attending the morning session of biochemistry practicals, and skipped the evening session and went to sleep. He did not, and he had to move to the ‘break’ batch. Jo existed after that, but we kind of drifted apart. I remember visiting his house a few times in year 2, and thats about it. Whenever we met though, Jo will start our conversations with a gleeful , ‘Lakshmiiiiii’.
I finished my MBBS in Chidambaram, and joined General Surgery residency at the same college, and I had the misfortune of having to deal with the Anaesthesia department, on a regular basis. They were inefficient at their best, and lazy at their worst, except for a few gems, and getting cases assessed with them for elective and emergency surgeries was a pain.
Lucky for me, Joseph became an anaesthesia postgraduate when we were in year 2 of residency. And he was a good one. Complicated cases, no problem. Pending investigations, no problems. Midnight emergencies, no problem. Whenever I called him for anything anaesthesia related, ‘Lakshmiiiii, nee kondu vaa paathukalam’. A lot of our cases went from ward to operating table because of Maniram in medicine, and Jo in Ananes.
Jo used to hang out (and pass out!!) at another friend’s hostel room in year 2, and weekends were fun with a lot of stories, and drinks.
I finished General Surgery a year later, and we were taking photos in final day of Operating Theatre, Jo came ‘Lakshmiii naanum varen’ and inserted himself in those photos. I was like ‘Dei unakku inga enna velai? You still have an year left, no?.’ Jo replied ‘En friends ellam porenga, at least naanum photos la unga kooda varen’.
And that’s it.
Life happened.
And I don’t really remember calling Jo more than twice in the next decade. Whenever I called, the calls began with ‘Lakshmiii epdi iruke?’.
I completed Urology after that and I worked in someplace for a few years. One day a circular came from Medical Superintendent for some NABH / Quality control program, and attendance was compulsory. Joseph was one of the speakers.
My motto then was ‘Life is too short to attend academic events’, and so I bunked work that day.
Next day I was talking to the Medical Superintendent, and mentioned Joseph was my batchmate. He had some nice words to say about Joseph, and added ‘Aana overa scene potan pa.’
I quipped, ‘Scene pota daan sir Joseph.’
Joseph passed away unexpectedly, about two years ago.
He was the third batchmate we lost in a short span of time. I had the chance to pay my respects to the other two, but due to unavoidable circumstances, I couldn’t do the same for him.
I thought about writing this post for him then, but never did. Something brought him to mind today, so I’m writing this as my belated goodbye.
Rest in peace wherever you are, Jo.
‘No, I have a normal number of friends; you have very few friends.’ said my wife long long ago.
As I write this post, I realize that I do have a lot of friends. We just grew apart, like feathers scattered by a gust of wind.
