Tuesday, November 29, 2005


I was hearing his voice for the first time in over four months. He sounded weak, exhausted. Who wouldn't be, after waging a major war on a disease. But if I listened carefully enough, beneath that veil of exhaustion, was hope, even jubilance. He knew he wasn't completely out of the woods yet, but at least the way forward was much clearer now.

He had not spoken to nor met up with any other friends yet. Besides her of course. She had been by his side all this while. I was therefore given that somewhat dubious honour once more. Just as that he had accorded me 4-5 months back when he informed me of the initial diagnosis and the then bleak outlook.

I found myself a little lost for words. I knew his condition well enough via my regular communication with her, so I needn't ply him with any more questions. Talk shifted back to more mundane stuff. Like sports.

So you're still an Arsenal fan, my friend? *Laughter* Yes, as long as Wenger doesn't sell Henry.

This is the first time in my life I see LA Clippers top the Pacific table and LA Lakers propping it up. Did you know that? Really?

So where from here now, my friend? I don't know. Haven't planned that far ahead yet.

For once, I've thought slightly further ahead than he. Work-wise, he will know best and I needn't ask. But I did nudge him slightly on a topic he had broached in our conversation 4-5 months back.

Maybe now is a good time to think about that again, my friend? I sensed a wry smile break. Maybe, maybe… we shall see.

Let's all meet up for a meal when I get back I don't know when.

Yes, let's do. I'm going to look forward to that very much.


Yes, I'll be looking forward to that too.


122 days to go.


Post a Comment

<< Home