Second Chances: Best Non-Fiction?

Something interesting just happened. A story that I had written more than four years ago just won the APAC Regional Literary Award for best non-fiction. I don’t get any money, its just a recognition. And I didn’t have the heart to tell them that it was completely fictitious. Anyway, here’s the story.

PS: Special thanks to Shruti Srivatsan for the nefarious idea and the inspiration.


“Friendship marks a life even more deeply than love. Love risks degenerating into obsession, friendship is never anything but sharing.”

 – Elie Wiesel
American Author
Nobel Peace Prize 1986

second chances One of the greatest attributes of life is its ability to deny us what we really want and give us what we really need. My life has been a constant game of badly-played chess, with every move as unplanned and sometimes, as stupid as it can get. Talking about friends and how they helped me reconstruct a broken foundation takes me back three years – a time when I almost convinced myself that I was a burden to everyone around me and decided that there isn’t anything else that I can offer to the world.

My time here was up, and I had to make a quick exit – to end my life and escape to that blissful afterworld where there’re no more complaints, no more angry glances, no more walking into a room filled with people who stop in mid-sentence and look at me as though I’m an unwanted piece of garbage, no more hints and subtle suggestions about me being a loser – and I chose the tried and tested path of a blade to the wrist in a bathroom alone at night.

It was in my second year of undergrad course that I found out I was really a loser. The faculty treated me with disdain as if they were teaching me only because they were forced to, and my classmates never even acknowledged my presence, let alone talk to me. What was the point to all this, I thought. Why am I here? I don’t belong here because I am not wanted.

The situation at home wasn’t any different as my parents never really had the time to sit with me and talk about anything. There was a big pile of unopened progress reports on the refrigerator, and every day I looked at them in the hope that at least one of them would be opened. My grades were good but not great, and I just wanted my parents to know about the time I got a 25 on 25 in math or the time when I cleared the physics paper. I wasn’t asking for a pat on the back and I wasn’t asking for a present in return. All I wanted was for them to smile at me occasionally, or at least look at me. I returned every day to an empty house and an emptier home. My time was up.

There was only one person in whom I could confide everything and he was the only one whom I could call a friend, in the truest sense of the word. Aziz was a fellow undergrad in my school and we’d met each other during the first semester in the English class. He was also an introvert and this is what drew me to him. I looked at him and realized that we had a lot of things in common. He never spoke in class and was always very calm and quiet and kept mostly to himself. The friendship began with a mutual smile and a lunch.

We talked about school work and girls and chess (we both had the dream of playing for the school chess team) and how we never could muster the courage to enroll. We became good friends and met up as often as we could and as frequently as our very different class schedules allowed us. I could call him a friend.

There’re times in life when we expect something, and something totally different happens. A better way to put it would be, “Things never happen as planned.”

After a month of fighting with myself, I finally decided to confide in Aziz. I picked up the phone and called him. It was perhaps the most important phone call I’d ever make. Holding the blade tightly in my hand, I was crouching in the corner of my room, and watching the thin rivulets of blood dripping through my fingers from the force with which I clutched the blade, when the call went through and he answered.

Today, as I sit here in Buffalo, NY and write about this, I feel tears weighing my eyes down. The journey from being a hopeless loser to crossing the Atlantic and arriving in USA for a Masters has been entirely due to that phone call. Aziz spoke to me over the phone for three hours even though it was almost two in the morning, and spoke to me about things so important that I’d never really considered. Being twenty-one years of age and ending my life would never allow me to discover myself. There’s a solution for every crisis, and it’s not suicide. Life has so many things to show us and teach us and it will, only if we give it a chance to do so.

Ending one’s life is so easy, but re-building it isn’t.

Aziz died on June 27th, 2006 in Bangalore, India, after being diagnosed with a malignant type of blood cancer. I held his hand in the hospital on the 26th and told him that I’d got an admission into SUNY Buffalo to do my Masters’. He smiled through his pain and squeezed my hand tightly. He had lost his speech a week ago, but I knew what he wanted to say. “You’ve given life a chance to show you the world; don’t take that chance away.”

It’s been almost a month since I’ve come to the USA and every minute I spend here, I owe it to him. In a strangely ironic twist of fate, I landed myself an on-campus job at the Roswell Park Cancer Center. There’re people like Aziz in all of us and there’re people like the old me in all of us as well. It’s important that we make the right choice.

I did, and I’m thankful for it. It’s worth these tears. He’s worth it.

August 20, 1984!

No, this isn’t a spoof of 1984. I like George Orwell very much! (Though, come to think of it, it could be quite an interesting title for a spoof!)

Few dates in the history of the world are as significant as August 20, 1984. The events that happened on that date are so earth-shatteringly uninteresting, inane and pointless, that they have changed the course of history completely by not playing a role in it whatsoever! Perhaps the most boring date in world history! 😀

I have tried to compile some of the events here that I am sure will make you wonder about the importance about this particular day and why this day was not removed from calendars across the world. Trust me, it’s worth a read! 😀

1. According to the Political Graveyard, on the 20th of August (not 1984), twenty-five United States politicians were born, none of whom are well-known, and most of whom are dead. Just one of these obscure figures was born on the 20th of August 1984. 😀

2. The Journal of Clinical Microbiology, which was released on the 20th of August 1984, which incidentally was Volume 20, contained a revolutionary research article titled, “Comparison of fluorescence polarization immunoassay and bioassay of vancomycin,” which paved the way for no further research on the topic. The authors of this paper probably lost their tenure and were forced to retire! 😀

3. At 7.00 pm on the 20th of August 1984, an appeal hearing was held in the Jonesboro country of Arkansas, which is probably the winner of the Most Boring Meeting ever held in the history of the world! 😀

4. On the 20th of August 1984, Ronald Reagan was boo-ed by a crowd while he was giving a speech in Cincinnati, Ohio and one member of the audience shouted, “No More Reagan! No More Reagan!” 😀

5. On the 20th of August 1984, the glorious world of Women’s Wrestling took a turn for the better, when reigning WWF Women’s Champion Susan Starr defeated Donna Christianello in Buffalo, NY! 😀

6. On the 20th of August 1984, Time Magazine’s 124th Volume was released and Sears and Cheryl Tiegs made the cover! 😀

7. On the 20th of August 1984, I was born.

Kris Bass has generously awarded me the Brilliante Weblog – 2008, and on this glorious occasion, I consider it my privilege to pass on this award to 8 other blogs that I consider worthy (worthier than me, definitely). They are:

[The rules specified that I could only pick 8 blogs for this one, so I am not taking anything away from all the others whom I have not mentioned above! Don’t hate me for this! If I could have, I would have nominated each and every blog on my blogroll and many more that I frequent]   🙂

I guess that covers most of the things that I wanted to say about this very special day, and to acknowledge an award that I don’t think I deserve.

Cheers! 🙂

PS: The great Indian Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi was born on the 20th of August 1944! 😀

PPS: This post has, very interestingly, exactly 20 hyperlinks!! 😀