We talk about break-ups. We talk of love lost, of love unrequited but we often forget to talk about losing best friends. Yes, yes we talk about it, but in what context? Two best friends grew apart, or one received the other, or one was in love blah blah.
But let’s add a new one to that dictionary, losing your childhood best friend to silly political agendas.
Adhoore from Break Ke Baad, played in my AirPods as my fingers moved over the keypad trying to find a story that resonated with mine, trying to find a light breeze in the hurricane that my heart was going through, but I found none. None of the stories resonated with me, for my story was different. I didn’t lose him because he outgrew me or he deceived me. I lost him to what I lost everyone to, political agendas.
Confused no? Let’s rewind.
He was my neighbour when I was a kid. We were inseparable as we are told but destiny had other plans. We moved to where I am now, when I was 7, leaving everything behind. Different cities, different schools and at an age that is not-so-mature it was natural for us to lose contact and for him to be locked up in some distant memory of mine.
But both of us refused to be just a memory for each other. From downloading Viber on our mother’s phone to confusion about our meeting dates, we made it through. I had a rough childhood as you all know, but he was one of the good memories that I have now.
What is the fondest memory of him? Umm, I’d say when he fought for me with someone. No one had defended me like that ever before and in that dark room, I had known that I wanted to keep this friendship always. I didn’t need to pretend with him, he accepted the weird, introverted me who had no other friend.
The song had finished as I lay on my back, watching the ceiling. I do this often when I’m anxious and I realised this was how when I first felt I’d lose him. I continued to look up at the ceiling, hoping that it would give me back to my teenage years.
But behold, our teenage years were long gone and so was the communal harmony in our country. While I grew up in a marginalised community, he grew up in a majoritarian set-up. He had the privilege to be apolitical, I did not. We saw things differently.
Whenever I fought with a right winger, he was my venting point. Truth to be told, he listened to my countless rants. And often on disagreements, he’d exclaim that it didn’t matter to him, that he was apolitical. I’d often remark that it was a privilege.
I’d often read that not speaking up against violence you are supporting it but I would calm my heart down, telling it that he didn’t care, he doesn’t have the time to read and at least he isn’t speaking up from their side.
But the regime decided to take that away from me too.
January 22nd came and the celebrations unfolded. I have stopped talking about it but of course, I was on the edge. And to see, someone close to you, celebrating it pushed me off the cliff
Naturally, I told him I didn’t expect it and we got into an argument. He claimed that him being religious triggered me but it wasn’t how I looked at it, to see him standing with the people who celebrated a pogrom is what triggered me.
I saw him supporting me, being there for my first heartbreak, telling me that I was enough. I saw him being my home. And then seeing that home being razed down to the ground.
We often had fights but this felt different. The person in front of me was someone I didn’t know. I felt broken. And for days after it, my heart couldn’t come to the fact that the person I knew once, wasn’t there anymore.
To me I know, we won’t move past this. The bond has broken so badly, that if we sit down to collect it, it would prick our hands. How one should feel after losing someone? Losing someone to a hateful regime?
I realised that you can’t take away from someone what they believe in, you can’t be friends with people who support the people who do nothing but spread blood.
And suddenly, my heart felt heavy. I closed my eyes as a tear rolled down my eyes. My heart felt like it was on fire. Because for the first time in 24 years of my existence, I had lost my only friend, my home to hatred.
So, how does it feel to lose your only friend to political agendas?
Broken.