Mayur, my friend

“Hi, we see each other every day. But we don’t even know each other’s names. I am Deepak”

The curly haired, T- shirted, Bermuda clad young man smiled at me.

“Hi, Iam Karthik” I said and we shook hands.

As we jogged along the Thiruvanmiyur beach, we exchanged some pleasantries about ourselves and some unpleasantries about our respective project managers.

We had so many things in common, we both worked for IT majors, we both liked to jog in the mornings, and we both felt men weren’t given their due in this nation.

Then, suddenly he received a call on his cell, and he looked really worried.

“Mayur is not well. I shouldn’t have given him hotel food yesterday” he said. Mayur must be that curly haired kid I’d seen with him a couple of times on the beach. So this sensible looking guy was married after all. Appearances are deceptive.

“Mayur’s not well” he repeated with a lot of worry.

“His mother is there at home?” I asked with concern.

He looked at me strangely and said “God knows where she’s right now.”

My heart tried to go out to him and with some effort I managed to hold it in place. Another broken family. Another kid on the rocks. But Deepak looked like such a nice guy who was very much attached to his son. May be he worked long hours and one fine day his wife couldn’t recognize his face, and that led to the split.

Damn all P.M.’s! I thought bitterly.

“How old is he?” I asked, thinking about that nice looking kid.

Deepak said “five” and continued to stare vacantly at the busy waves.

“Do you think you can take care of him on your own?” too much for a first time meeting
But I wanted to know.

“Right now, there is a maid who takes care of him. I come as a package deal as far as marriage is concerned. Mayur will come along on our honeymoon trip!”

What conviction! What affection! Long live father-love! My eyes filled up. As we shook hands and said bye I couldn’t help thinking about the unsung dads of this Mom- centric country.

I went home and called my parents at Bangalore. Actually I wanted to speak to my dad but my mom picked up the phone as usual.

“I want to speak to dad” I said flatly.

She must‘ve sensed something was wrong but she gave the phone to dad. As I heard his voice I choked up and played the song ”I just called to say I love you”

May be he fainted on the other end, may be he didn’t, but I felt a lot better.

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I went through that workweek feeling sorry for Deepak and Mayur. Sad there is no organization fighting for men’s rights in this country.

I went to the beach that weekend and wondered where Deepak was.

“Hi, Karthik, this is Mayur. Mayur, say hi to Karthik uncle”. It was a happy looking Deepak.

I looked at the empty space at his waist level, but there was no Mayur.

“Woof” said a voice from somewhere near the ground.

“Mayur?” I asked.

“Woof” said the voice again.

I looked down to find a long black cylinder on four short legs with a tail attached may be as an afterthought. A pair of large brown eyes bored in to mine.

I laughed and said, “I didn’t know Mayur was a dog!” and as my stars were all in bad positions, curse them, I added, ”He looks funny!”

I smelt smoke and wondered what was burning.

I looked up and found smoke coming out of Deepak’s flared nostrils and ears. I swear I saw smoke coming out of what looked like a half opened eye on his forehead.
“Mayur is not a dog!” he shouted with sudden ferocity.

Well, he doesn’t look like an iguana to me, I thought.

A couple of stars must’ve been on my side, so I didn’t say anything about black cylinders with short legs.


“Mayur isn’t a mere dog! He’s family! And don’t you say anything bad about how funny he looks!” he hugged the dachshund and tearfully said” the last time someone remarked like that, he went off his food for two hours! He’s sensitive! Unlike guys like you!”

Some pet owners are so touchy. I hadn’t taken offence when he referred to me as uncle to his do.. Mayur.

But who was that curly haired kid?

I asked and Deepak said icily”I have no kids, curly haired or otherwise.. Iam not even married”

“Sorry” I said.

The smoke was getting thinner now and Deepak said “That kid is my neighbor’s kid.
A pest” he said with passion.

I know when a friendship is lost but still felt I had to make amends.

“Sorry if I’ve hurt Mayur’s sentiments .you’re right. Children are pests, and dogs are the best”

I said words to that effect and after we bid each other an uncomfortable farewell, I sighed with relief.

I was glad I didn’t get bitten by the dog, though the master made up for it. Its not that I dislike dogs, but I still remember the nasty dog bite I got as a teenager.
People sound sympathetic if you tell them you were bitten by a dog, but they cannot hide that momentary smirk on their faces. If you get badly mauled up by a tiger or a shark you might be hailed as a hero. But a dog bite?

Anyway I want to insist once again, I am no dog hater. I think all dogs are great [I don’t need any dachshund democratic association dragging me to court with a defamation suit slapped on me, my project is bad enough, thanks].

I watched dog and man walk in to the sunset and then went home.

I called my parents to tell them I’ll soon find myself an unsuspecting girl a.s.a.p. cause I needed a comforting presence when things got rough.

I heard my loving father say to my mom “The boy has gone nuts. That I.T. job must’ve got to him”.

Subasri Narendran

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