Every kindergarten goers' diary has some essential details of parents, address, blood group etc; and it usually has some space for "Best friends". I know what my younger brother had written; as we found his diary in the attic few years ago. I don't have printed proof for an act I put down in paper in 1980, but am sure Biju MV was one of them.
My mother recollects an instance when two 7 year old's ran and thumped their chests into one another (like how tennis doubles partners do nowadays to express solidarity) at S M Street one holiday evening; at sheer sight of each other. Biju MV...Bijuyembee.. Bijumbee... my mother figured out the connect when his son said he had a great friend named Bijumbee at school. The chest-bumping act just proved the relationship.
Skipping a year or two in between Biju and I had stints in same schools in same years and have travelled similar paths. Here is one such path. One day the school got over early and after long conversations in the school playground, about the girls in class we hated and giving them secret pseudo-names; Biju and I walked all the way from Presentation School to my house 1.5 kilometers away; played cricket for a while; hit two huge sixes; lost all the tennis balls we had at my home; and then we went down the hill 2 kilometers away to Biju's house. After playing cricket in his veranda and answering some questions his father asked two eight year old's; it was time for me to leave. "You know there is another secret way to your house?"; it was 6 pm, there was still light enough to last 30 minutes more; but I was late by more than 1 hour of my scheduled arrival from school and had not left a word at home; so disciplinary action was a given. But the opportunity to walk through a secret way (where no man had walked before, as I was told) was too good to resist for an eight year old, even if it takes a little longer. I was home at 6:45 pm I think that day, after Biju duly showed me through the secret passage - it was the latest I was out without letting anyone know. Amma believed in nipping deviant behavior in the bud. On rare occasions when she did that; the hibiscus plant's stick also is nipped off leaves and buds. I remember this to-date; meaning; it was a good lesson learnt. Neither of us told each other what happened at our respective houses on that day.
This was the time when Biju was not yet the sports day celebrity he was to later become, in Presentation and Silver Hills. And when he did realise and believe that he had wings in his feet; he was the star of the "Joy" house ["Peace" and "Love" being the other houses students were divided into]. At the end of the day when the prizes were given away, a sense of pride travelled within me as he came back and stood with ME or sat with ME , before he went on to receive another one.
In class 8, Biju joined Silver Hills. we were school mates again. I had moved in two years ago. This was a new Biju. The induction into teenage had changed both me and him. The legs still had the wings; the cheeky smile was still there; but a spirit of brazen adventure has set in. There was a 4pm bus that would just refuse to stop by the bus stop, just to avoid a sea of blue and white uniforms crowding in on subsidised student concessions. One day Biju took it head-on by standing on the middle of the road as the bus turned the corner ans sped towards the bus stop. 50 odd students watched the big green vehicle advance towards a spunky 13-year old exuding attitude. The bus honked in an effort to intimidate the boy; who stood still. The students had their eyes closed and the some of us had hands in our heads and eyes popping out. It was too late to even attempt a rescue; to risk getting crushed under a multi-tonner zooming in at 60kmph. The bus screeched to a halt. May be there was a 6 inch gap between the front fender and the boy. Passengers jolted by the brake looked out to see what was happening and hoped not to see the worst. A minute later, thirty odd students led by their new hero was already in the bus.
Another instance: the same bus slowed down to an almost halt to let off a passenger and sped out again. The sports hero in the boy took over; he ran to catch up with the bus enough to get a hand on to the ladder behind. And as students and passers-by looked on with their mouths open; the bus sped away with a student taking a free ride hanging onto a ladder behind.
After stints at tuition classes (Ouseph sir and Nambisan Uncle); I met Biju may be midway through college. we both may have been 20 or 21 then. Biju was trading pups I heard; and had a motorbike of his own. We connected again at a level we had not; for more than 10 years may be. We talked about college, women in college we had crushes at, plans into the future; and other random things men (ahem, yes men of 20 or 21) generally tend to talk.
And as we had had done many many years ago, at the end of it all; he dropped me home; in his bike, donning sun-glasses and all. No secret passages as before, but through the main road in front of school. We were grown-up people; and there were no hibiscus treatment this time :). Yes, we had come back the proverbial full circle.
Then in 2007 may be after 10 years, a Minnesotta bridge collapse got us connected again. Nisha chechi, who is in the US, called up to check on Biju who resides not far away from the bridge; and as luck would have it; she passed on my e-mail to Biju. We are in touch; through internet - a medium that feels strange to connect through English, to a child hood friend - but at least we are; and am happy for that.
