Aditya Hrudayam

I hesitated before going in.

The fact that I would be seeing a dead body inside was, to say the least, scary. I still couldn’t come to terms with it. I didn’t feel sad when I heard the news. I was shocked. Probably it would take a day or two for the feeling to finally sink in.

The first time I met Aditya Balasubramaniam, he did not impress me at all. He was dressed in a navy blue outfit and had a burning cigarette in his hand. His beard was unkempt and his eyes were drifting constantly.

He looked as if he had just finished his dose of Ecstasy.

When he rattled off a couple of Shakespearean verses within the first two minutes of our meeting, my suspicions were on the verge of getting confirmed.

He smiled then and told me warmly – “Don’t mind my Show Off attitude. It comes to me naturally. And I am not drunk by the way.” I managed to catch a fleeting glimpse of his eyes. They were quite deep.

I looked up. It was a long corridor leading to a slightly ajar wooden door.

Aditya’s uncle was standing in the corridor with a cigarette in his hand. His eyes told it all… the pain, the frustration, the confusion and the shock. So much was communicated just by one glance. I was silent. He motioned me to go inside. I didn’t have the courage to do so.

“You want to step inside?” Aditya asked me pointing to the dance floor on the left side.

I shook my head.

He nodded, “I don’t like it either. Too much of chaos. I like to see some form and rhythm wherever I go.”

I took another careful look at this shabby gentleman who wanted form and rhythm wherever he went.

He broke into a hysterical laughter. “I knew it. I knew you’d react this way. Come on! I hate Form. I hate Rhythm. I hate Order.”

I decided to ignore him and look at the VH1 telecast.

A loud wail from behind that wooden door startled me. Probably his mother. I stopped at Aditya’s uncle. I didn’t know what to say. These were difficult situations. I had never been a great consoler. What to say? More importantly: What not to say??

“Say something, anything! Just don’t stare at the mindless garbage coming on the idiot box.” Aditya had a quirky little smile on his face.

“Are you drunk?” I asked him directly.

He was surprised. Then he was amused. Then he clasped his hands and told me that drinking was the worst thing happened to humanity.

And then, he stopped his humane lecture to take a deep puff.

I switched off the television and went to the balcony to catch some fresh air.

The wailing stopped and there was a deadly silence which was worse. I could not make up my mind to enter the house. Till now, I had heard of the news but once I entered the door in front of me, it would be a fact. A fact I had to live with for the rest of my life.

“Who cares about the rest of this life? I live on a day to day basis. The only word I hate in English language is Tomorrow.”

He paused there and thought a little about his statement. Then he hastily added, “And the day after tomorrow too… But it is not a word you see. You get the idea, right?”

I didn’t get the idea. I didn’t care either. He was an interesting person but I could frankly do without his sermon on how life had to be lived especially if it was inspired by a Chiranjeevi movie that he had seen earlier.

“Don’t say you don’t like him. He is God. His portrayal of a mad man in that flopped movie of his – really authentic and touching.”

That was why I liked him. He wouldn’t think twice before talking something really stupid. There was no disconnect between his thought process and his words. They were perfectly synchronized. He spoke his mind out.

The door opened suddenly and Anjali stepped out. I stared at her not knowing what to say. She motioned me to go inside. I had no choice now. I had to enter the house. I had to face the reality. My legs were shaking and my breathing was shallow. I couldn’t move at all. Anjali held my hand and took me inside.

He was on the bed staring at the ceiling with a puzzled expression on his face. Then he asked me seriously, “Do you know why these lamps are always near the ceiling of a room?”

“So that they could cover the entire room?” I asked him fully knowing he cared a hoot about such logical answers.

“Maybe! I don’t know. I thought it would be cool to say – because they are light!” He was laughing like a mad man and eventually managed to trip off the bed.

I smiled to acknowledge the poor joke which I might have heard at least a hundred times before.

There were many people inside, most of them in shock – silent and confused. His mother was completely disoriented and was staring at him.

Then I saw Aditya Balasubramaniam.

He could easily pass off as a peacefully sleeping young man if the bandage which wrapped up most of head was ignored.

“What is death but a discontinuation of life!” He told me seriously.

I laughed, “And what is 2 plus 2 but 4!”

He frowned at me, “You are making fun of the startling discovery I’ve just made. Life as such has no meaning without death at the climax.”

I didn’t understand it.

“You don’t know the value of life if there is no death.”

I shrugged and concentrated on Harry Potter in Pogo.

Then it hit me. It hit me hard. I could no longer deny it. Aditya Balasubramaniam was history. He would no longer talk about life or death. He would no longer crack wise jokes. There wouldn’t be any unbelievable philosophical interpretations of everyday affairs.

He was gone. Simply. Just like that.

I kneeled in front of him, tears rolling down my cheeks. I had to say it for I waited too long. It might have no meaning at all now. I knew it was going to be futile. I knew I should have told him before. I knew I would never be able to forgive myself.

I didn’t know whether I could say it there but I didn’t care. I was losing control. The image of him was blurred and the world was swinging from one extreme to the other.

I held his hand and whispered – “I love you Aditya. I love you very much.”

The End