Me, Myself and KB

I called my sister today after couple of weeks, which according to my mother is a very long time and her five year old daughter picked up the phone. She became a bit too excited when she realized that it was here MAMA on the phone. Now, there isn’t much that you can talk to a five year old but sometimes they say things which make an impact on you. This post is a direct result of the question that she asked, "Mama, who is your best friend?” I know that it’s pathetic but all I could answer was “Call your Mummy.” When I thought about it, I realized that the closest thing to a best friend I ever had is KB.

When I first met KB, he looked like a creature from the superior side of the world. He looked like the IITian I always wanted to be. Now he pretty much looks like the guy I never want to be(A bit too skinny and no girl, other than the one his father will find for him, will ever look at him). With three fat books in his hand, a tired look in his eyes and a scowl on his face he was trying to get them issued from the Central Library. He was just about to leave, when I asked him to get a book issued for me too. I was too lazy to apply for the Library Card when compared with others in my college and had realized that if I dint act fast, all the pertinent text will be gone in no time. He hardly knew me back then but still he did me this favor, which till today seems like an unreasonable act to me.

I lived three rooms away from him for a period of more than two years and have known that KB would never deny a favor to anyone. I know that he is a bit too self-involved but who isnt? Its not like we never had any differences, as a matter of fact we had loads of them. He often accused me of generalizing, picking up weirdoes as COOL people and not being able to develop a personalized taste in literature. He often tried to win arguments with reason and I defied him by quoting examples from history, facts and statistics. None of us ever lost in a discussion but both of us always won.

When this semester got over, everyone started to head back to their old homes or their new jobs. KB was stuck here because of his pending research work and I had to rot in my hostel because my course requires me to spend this summer vacations in college. I never felt that I would miss any of my college friends because, forgive the cliché, it’s a girly thing to do. As I am writing this, KB is in a cab to the railway station, headed for a career in a company that does not deserve him. Trust me on this one, as KB is the only person I know who got a call from IIM-A but dint even bother to attend the interview. To end it all, I would quote Joni Mitchell from Big Yellow Taxi,
“Don't it always seem to go,
That you don't know what you've got,
Till it's gone”