A Friend No More

 

 

Guru, holding me. At our last alumni meet; in front of our old MBA campus

Guru doing his favourite thing; dishing it up in his kitchen

One of the oft-shared/received message on WhatsApp/Facebook or any social media is about staying in touch with people in our lives - our families and friends.  Lest we regret that we didn't do enough while they were alive.  The regrets that one is left with whenever someone dear passes away are immense.  "I wish I had called him", "I wish I had met her one last time", "I wish I had apologised", and so on. Yet most of us do not practice it.  

Guru belonged to our quartet of friends.  He, Sumi, Benny, and I were the four who had formed this group in the very first semester of our MBA days.  And, we had continued to be the ones who always hung out together.  We were four truly disparate people, coming from different backgrounds, languages, places, and interests, and yet who had formed a deep bond of friendship.  

 It all started with Guru asking us if we would want to take private tuition for accountancy.  None of us had studied accounts in either undergrad or Plus 2, and the lecturer who handled accounts in the course didn't know what he was teaching.  So, we had readily consented - the fee was affordable too, for me.  Just Rs 300 for the entire duration.  Within a week of joining the classes we had warmed up to each other immensely, and would spend loads of time chatting post the tuition.  Everyday we would hang out together - over two rounds of tea, each time ordered, '2 by four' - at one of the rooftop restaurants near Kalidasa Road, Jayalakshmipuram, Mysore.  Sometimes - when our budgets permitted - our conversations moved to the Pelican Pub.  Guru would regale us with stories from his salad days; it was difficult to separate facts from fiction in his narratives.  And, his laughter would make us forget to ask him how much of it should be believed!

In those two years of MBA days, our quartet became famous in the University Campus, and travelled together, learnt some new life lessons, celebrated our birthdays and new years, worked on projects, shared our dreams. Soon after the course Guru was instrumental in me getting a job too.  For a good six months we were colleagues, working in the same location, pursuing same clients, and drinking together regularly.  We all stayed in touch until our paths began to diverge in different directions.  Sumi realised her dream of going to the US., Benny left for the Middle-East, Guru started working on his dream to combine water sports with tourism.  I joined the Civil Services.  Every now and then our paths crossed, and we met. Each time the connection was as good as it was when we were at the college.  

Guru was a multi-faceted personality.  He was a national-level swimmer, diver, and wind-surfer during student days.  He also was an accomplished painter, and an innovative chef.  He made his own wines too.  I still remember drinking gooseberry wine that he had brewed at home.  Guru was gregarious, and loved telling stories of his accomplishments; loads of exaggeration was invariably there, but never any hint of malice.  He told tall tales of his efforts to set up resorts in Australia to Andaman to Andalusia.  

In the last few years - after his father too had passed away, and on insistence from his mom - he had settled down in Mysore.  Ever creative, he had converted his home into a 'go-to' destination for all the foreigners coming to Mysore to learn yoga.  It helped the house was in Gokulam, the bustling yoga hub; his 'Pink House' had gained immense popularity.  

As a group we celebrated our 25 years of friendship going back to where it was all sealed. Malpe.  The four of us flew in from different destinations into Mangalore and drove together - with a pitstop at some roadside eatery which we converted to a bar - to the beach and stayed.  It felt we four would be together forever.  And, no fate would intervene. 

Even though we were so close, in the last one year we had hardly met after our alumni meet in August, 2019.  He had once come to Bengaluru and stayed with me after that; and always cribbed that I didn't call him and remember him as much as he did.  We spoke last in the aftermath of another demise last month of a dear friend and classmate, Bharathi.  We talked how we must stay closer, more in touch, and meet often.  And, yet, none of that happened.  

The new this morning - the first message on Whatsapp - jolted me (and continues to).  In the MBA Group, Guru's handle had sent a message:

'Guru Prasad no more'

I was the first to react.  What? Who's this please?

Soon, another friend from the group confirmed that Guru indeed was no more, and he had succumbed to Covid.  He was taking treatment at home for the last 15 days.  We didn't know Guru had tested positive; he hadn't shared this news with any of us.  His last message was a wish on Onam to Benny.  2020 was so far disastrous; it just turned a calamity with this news. Losing one friend was terrible; losing two is indescribably horrifying.

Rest in peace, dear friend.  I hope we will meet someday soon.  And carry forward the conversations and chats that are left unfinished.  Your smile and laughter will always be missed.  A drink will taste never as good anymore.  Nor Mysore will be as welcoming.  Will miss you, Guru, always.