Main Hoon Na
(I am there!)
Kiska hai ye tumko intezaar? Main hoon na.
Dekhlo idhar to, ek bar, main hoon na.
Khamosh kyun ho? Jo bhi kehna hai, kaho.
Dil chahe jitna, pyar utna maang lo.
Whom are you waiting for? I am there!
Look at me, once, I am there!
Why are you so quiet? Tell me all you want to.
Ask for all the love your heart desires!
It’s been twelve days since I’ve been listening to that song. It’s filmi; Shah Rukh Khan and the works. But in my head, someone else is singing it to me. He is my best friend. My ordinary, yet not-so-ordinary, best friend. He is God.
Kabhi jo tum socho, ke tum ye dekho, arre kitna mujhko tumse pyar hai. To chup mat rehna, ye mujhse kehna, arre koyi kya aisa bhi yaar hai.
(Sometimes if you think, or if you see or feel, how much I love you. Don’t be quiet, come and tell me, would you ever find a friend like me?)
He loves me to bits. Like all my other friends, he doesn’t always show it. Nor does he ever say it. I just know.
For a long time, I’ve always thought I had to be in awe of God; had to pray to Him properly; what I say and think and how I act. But in all my respect for Him, something was missing. I somehow couldn’t be myself with Him. I was ashamed when I made mistakes, apologized to Him when I cried, and sometimes read His books only because I thought I should, not because I wanted to.
In trying to change myself for Him, I forgot who I was. He had made me a certain way. And maybe, just maybe, he liked me that way. Who isn’t proud of their own creations?
And so, I decided I had had enough. He had no choice; He had become a he. And he was my new best friend.
He follows me wherever I go. Actually, it’s me that always takes him along. He listens to me complain, cry, laugh, and discuss. Like my other friends, he tells me I shouldn’t complain so much.
“You sound like a whiner,” he says.
But he feels sorry for me when I hurt.
“I don’t like it when you cry,” he says.
When I’m dying to tell someone a secret, I tell him. Or if I’ve just had the most amazing tiramisu cheesecake, I tell him to hurry up and go try it. He’s the first person I pick up the phone to call when I’ve heard good or bad news.
He thinks I’m silly and childish sometimes. He hits me lightly on my forehead.
“Pagal,” (crazy) he says.
But he likes to sing songs with me, dance in front of the mirror with me, and even watch “Friends” episodes with me.
“I like Joey,” he says. “His life is so simple. And he’s always happy.”
Sometimes he sounds just like me. Maybe that’s why I love him.
Sometimes we talk about deep things.
“Why do we have a life?” I ask.
“To find the answer to that question.”
Sometimes, I go places and I don’t take him with me. I always miss him.
But I get jealous when he spends time with his other friends. I like to think I’m his favorite.
He has a funny way of showing me that he cares.
Like my friend Nevin, he doesn’t always remember to wake me up for class when I’ve asked him to. But if he gets free donuts, he’ll always bring me back one.
Like my friend Suparna, he gets angry at me when I do things he told me not to, but then always calls later to help me deal with the new situation I’ve gotten myself into.
Like my friend Hazel, he tells me I shouldn’t be so lazy, but knows not to wake me up with his phone calls before 2 p.m.
Like my friend Meghna, he tells me not to be such a weakling when I’m sick, and then makes me hot tea for my sore throat before he runs to class.
And like my friend Chuck, he tells me to be careful and not so naïve in this dangerous world, but then shows me I don’t have to be afraid because I’ll always have a best friend.
He wears khaki, nice shirts, and a sweater when it’s cold. He hates when I wear makeup. He’s the only one who doesn’t think I’m too short to be a model.
“But you do need to get in shape,” he says. “You need more exercise.”
I’ve started swimming regularly again. I find myself always trying to follow his advice.
He is my best friend. I have made a “he” and not a “she” my best friend because I hate the idea that ‘a guy and a girl can never be best friends.’
I like him ‘cause he’s fun. He’s not scary, only has a mild temper, and he makes good jokes. He writes well too. I learn from him.
He holds my hand when I’m crossing the road.
“You still don’t know how to do it,” he says. “Uttu, you’re 19!”
He holds me back when I’m about to trip and fall down the stairs.
He makes sure I always get home safely late at night. And even in the day.
He always arranges for his other friends to meet me and help me when I’m in new and strange places.
Koyi mushkil, koyi pareshaani aaye, tumhe lage kuch theekk nahi haalaat, mujhse kahon.
Koi ho tamanna ya ho koi aarzoo, rehna kabhi na bekaraar. Main hoon na.
(If you come across any hardship, any trouble, or if anything does not work, come, tell me!
If you have any wish or desire, do not stay eager, I am there!)
He hugs me tight when I cry really hard.
“I know you feel like the weight of the whole world is on your shoulders, Uttu,” he says. “But it’s not. That’s something I carry for you.”
Dil chahe jitna pyaar, utna maang lo.
Tumko milega utna pyar. Main hoon na.
(Ask for all the love your heart desires.
You will get all that love, I am there!)
