A friend, I cannot part.

A friend, I cannot part.

P K Routray

 

“Hey, Damsel clad in rapturous red

blazing the meadow spread ahead!

You palpate my heart at a breakneck pace

captivated by your voluptuous grace.”

Reproducing a hit song of the time

with a tone soothing, sweet and sublime

as if Raffi in Shami had arrived there

incarnating in our friend - a breed rare

keeping our cine monger seniors in captive

by a teenaged fresher’s entertainments live

saved us, he, his batch mates in the ranges’ den.

Our gratitude to him had bonded us since then.

That was the introduction of Subash to us

in nineteen sixty-five in our Alma-mater’s campus.

Entered he, our Alma-mater as a best ten ranker

a laurel, all bright students of Orissa hanker after.

Possessing handwritings akin to brinjal seeds

an illustration we illustrate to our grandkids.

His unusual, unused grasping power was unique

with overnight preparation, his successes speak

though he surrendered his top rankers’ reputation

owing to his extracurricular acts and participation

his talent, his power of observation, his integrity

his piety, cleaning inner dirt by the outspoken ability

make him a classmate to boast of and to bow at

To all, we, his classmates tell ” He is dear to our heart.

Our craze for films was spearheaded by Subash

all premier shows he attended despite the mad rush

on return, all hit-songs were on his lip.

Kishore, Mukesh, Raffi all in him liked to peep.

His typical dialects of Puri, his native town

flows from his mouth once he is pricked down

serving as laughter lessons to Oroya learning classmates

with the meanings, they learned Oriya at a faster rate.

Cherish we those five years at our alma-mater

as the best part of our lives, swear we together

without Subash energetic presence among us

dry and drab would have been our life in the campus.

With him as fresher

still pinch our spine, the thriller

of pleasure and fear together

when seniors come to hear

his melodious voice

we freshers had no choice

but to stand to enjoy

with fear of ragging to our dismay.

More than five decades have passed since then

the hero has vanished, we feel the thrilling time and again.

We still wonder at God gifted Subash’s caliber

with no training, no trainer he was a top notcher.

His caricatures, fondly recall we

that always turned our gloom to glee

lightening any adverse or tense situation

with his superb caricatural reproduction.

We remember

with tear and laughter

his participation

in the fancy character competition

exhibiting a mad man’s character

drawing applause from every quarter.

Through his acclaimed mad action

managed he to sit at the pivotal location

in the ladies’ ‘musical chair completion

where participants were ladies alone

to gaze at beauty to his heart’s content

even when professors and principal were present

but he liked a lady and gazed only at her

who turned to be our classmate Mamen in lady character.

To spread any rumor at a faster pace

we found Subas as the best in the race.

Once we tell it as confidential with a murmur

he repeats the same to every hostel dweller

advising him to keep it secret

Through his simplicity, we achieved our target.

So in public his secrets were thrown open

but never embarrassed was he to our fun.

With due apology to Madhuri madam

must I prove his tact as awesome.

To meet his spouse after marriage

with all masculinity and courage

he had a peg or two

but the smell gave the Madam the clue.

She complained crying to his father

a disciplined dedicated English teacher.

Tense was the situation.

Rose in the house a commotion.

Subash confessing and repenting to his father

reminded him of his teachings in English literature

and begged him to excuse as the father in Prodigal son

to which his father and spouse had no option.

It was his character

he lived in present and forgot the spelling of future.

To keep his friends in a cheerful mood

many methods at his cost he perused.

That he continued all throughout his life

cared he a little for his own woes and strife.

In his professional career

the wrongdoings of his peers

and on him the compulsion

was too much for him as a mental burden

he lost his mental balance and composure

to his family inflicting the torture.

On him experimented he

with no remorse but with glee

the effect of nectar and poison

good and bad with right or wrong decision

to get the bliss of happiness

that eludes even the monk in the worldly process.

as if as an actor

acting to the direction of the supreme director.

Suffered he,

withstood his spouse Madhuri with strong determination

withstood it boldly his daughter Jubilee and Sarthak, the son

Hey madam! Accept our gratitude for your devotion

our blessings to Jubilee and Sathak honoring His direction.

We know Subash much more than you

“ Gem of a person like him god creates a very few

to reveal and teach true wisdom.”

“ Who am I? To this world why have I come?”

“Why does the best from Harvard

to satisfy his life turn mad.

In search of peace, bliss, and happiness

he exhausts his life failing in the process

Perishes as his incomplete mission

left are here the materials and laurels won.

Fear confusion and grief

are the woes of human life in brief.

Subash rose over them as an exception

with fearless life and void of confusion

On grief of life physical or emotional only he can say

With betel in mouth, he left smilingly telling us goodbye.

Hey Subash! Six years have passed by

To you, we paid our mournful goodbye

the philosophy of the soul is too intriguing to us

it can never wipe our tears by any scriptural fuss.

Since six years the scene often reappears

bringing out from your classmates' flow of tears

Through a deadly disease

ceased your breeze

enduring a hell lot of pain

all prayers were in vain

Prayers turned from life to death

to stop your breath

to get rid of the pain

unbearable was your endurance and strain.

Tears had dried off from each eye

with a statue like figures, we told you goodbye.

when after lunch with fish curry

a beetle in the mouth to carry

designed by your Sathak dear son

well aware of the imminent position

his tears have drained off by your pain and torture

left nothing to shed on the last journey of his dear father

so also were his daughter and granddaughter

kith and kin all your near and dear.

We friends with a philosophical sigh

to your last mortal journey to Swaegadwar waved goodbye.”

A unique character, him we bow bent down

as a monarch of friends, him, our hearts crown.

“Every day

swear I say

I remember you

lifting my spirit with your caricaturist hue

Feel I your presence never absence.

Bow at you with my heartfelt reverence.

Your reply to your dear son

humbles and haunts me very often

with gratitude, I treasure it in my heart

never in this life neither after it, I can part

that I am your friend intimate and dear

in spite of the pain of deadly disease, you could utter.

on death, bed writhing in pain

a close friend in me you pronounced then.

It took me six years to dare tell in public

that indeed you are my friend unique.

For you, I shall cry every day

till I meet you as Hindu scriptures say.

Your bosom friend Gopal’s tear always fall

remembers always, him, your last minute call

we all cherish your sweet calls dear to our heart.

“Hey, Lord! We pray you to keep Subash happy as your part.”

 

 

(N.B - Subash was my class mate in Engineering wef 1965 to1970 staying in the same hostel. he has ledt for his heavenly abode on 10th July 2013. But I feel for the loss at this old age. This is my tribute to my friend)