He continued writing.
"
... This seems to be very lucky for me, writing into you, diary!! He just called me on the phone, five minutes back. My friend called me after what happened yesterday!! Well since I didnt start writing yesterday I am not telling you what happened. But it IS unfortunate that I got the nerve to start writing my "memoirs" on this dull day, dull as a rusty old pipe lacking its lustre. Well as I was finishing writing into you this afternoon, he just called. The uncomfortable silence which reigns after a rift between friends ran parallely, though both of us talked. I felt my voice and demeanour over the phone betrayed my uneasiness, spoke volumes how I had lost the affection I had for him "once upon a time". On the other side I felt his voice too, sounding not under any emotional pressure. Maybe he was under it , maybe not. I never had the power of "knowing" what the other felt. This one quality he had. That was fabulous. Most of the time he was right about what was going inside the person opposite him. But that was "before". Now that "tables have turned" to my utter surprise once he was utterly wrong bout what was goin inside me... accused me of something cheap... but i didn't get angry.. as usual.. it is as if i dunno how to get angry... u'll notice that diary as i write to you..."
Sharan was the second child the Iyers had, Mr. and Mrs. Jagan Iyer. His elder sister, "akka" that's how they call their elder sister in South Indian dialect of tamil, two years elder to him they shared a wonderful bond of the bro-sis magic as they grew up. Sharan and Kamali both where shy children, courtesy their father. They didn't chitter chatter like other children did, they were normal kids but shy very shy. Come relatives or visitors, they withdrew immediately into their rooms after the initial exchange of feeble greetings, like terrified crabs into their shells concealing their soft bodies. Though Gayathri did tell them tales of how talkative Kamali was when she was very young, apparently she started the "withdrawal" with her brother's first steps, and he followed suit. There were several fables about their childhood their mother used to remenisce even as they grew up, like "education has no 'boundaries'", "the locked in; key out", "the saga of the how rathna's foot got into the rasam", "the shitty train" and more others. Well, these were the names Sharan had given the incidents, keeping them to himself. Inside, Sharan was a fun-loving boy, the one who hollers into the night to wake up people for fun, playing pranks, singing loud when he poured the warm water over him as he bathed and always with a mischievious smile plastered over his face, his inner face. The exterior was just SHY. He wondered how difficult he found even to ask for something in shops, as simple as a packet of chips!! He got over it gradually, not fully though. Maybe that is why he found an outlet into his diary. Though life was funny, entertaining and good, he did still harbour dark incidents in his mind. Like the " Behind the wheels or under them?", " The war within", or the "unfotunate joke". It wasn't exactly that time was hostile towards him or he was the "most unfortunate wretched mortal" on earth. But like every human did, he had his share of bad experiences too.
Try something big and bold today -- you'll make a great impression! Your friends will never see it coming, and it's a good idea to keep them on their toes. That big smile just can't be faked!
