Friday, 11 December 2015


Deki was a very good friend of mine. She was from a well off family. Though her parents were very rich, their marital relationship was not in a good shape. Frequently they would quarrel and the conversation would dry up for a long time. It was deki who had to bear the severe brunt of their unstable bond.  One time I went to get my book from her house, I heard a commotion ongoing inside. The door was ajar, I could see her parents quarreling followed by the sound of a flower vase breaking and photo frames slamming the marbled floor. Just then the door to dekis room also slammed shut; I heard her sobbing over the pillow. Deki would not share about her problem to anyone, not even to me. She was more resilient than I imagined. She would deliberately delay going home, together strolled along the children park and relished stuff from the hawker. She would never let me pay even if I wanted to. As a token of friendship, she would allow me to carry her backpack full of books. Back then we had a tremendous book to carry added by novel and lunch box. The basic conflict in her family can be blamed for the mismatch in their habit while her dad was a heavy drinker and mom was a serious gambler, both were reluctant to admit.
One day we were walking along the footpath. I was carrying her bag and my own. Along the sideways, beautiful daffodils bloomed amongst the lush clover grass. We wanted to pluck some lucky leaves (four-leaved) and got down to work. As I bent down a small container felt loose from the side of the bag and rolled over.  I picked it up; it read “rodenticide” deadly poison.  I simply pushed back inside her bag. While going back, I enquired about the container and she said that it was to kill rats in her house. Nothing crossed my mind, I dropped her home. Later that night I was leaning against the wall and wondering. Her house is very need and rats are out of a question. Then I remembered incidence of suicide by consuming rat poison. Immediately I dialed her, there was no respond on the other end. I ran towards her house, took almost half an hour. As usual the door was ajar, I heard her parents quarreling. This time, I mustered courage and entered, her parents were astounded. I rushed to her room, saw her sobbing. The stuff was on the table, and I took in my pocket. She was shocked and happy. I said that I came borrow her book.
Today after 20 years, when I meet with her I ask the same question, she always say that it was to kill rats in her house. But deep within I still believe I saved her life.