THE ADVERSITY TEST

If I could pull down the rainbows I would write your name on it and put it back in the sky to let everybody know how colourful my life is with a friend like you.

As toddlers, we found a kindred soul in each other as pleaded to be set free from our cruel school routine and allowed to play instead. Every day we would grin at each other in between our bellowing to be released from the A-for-apple-and-B-for-ball grind.
Our names and even our builds were similar; therefore we were often mistaken for twins. Everyone who knew Jayshree, knew Shreeja and vice versa.
I remember a time when our friendship was put to the adversity test. We were in the third grade gearing up for an inter-school talent competition between twenty schools. It was called “The Spectrum” and the theme was to “Preserving and Enriching our Cultural Heritage.” We were doing a dance drama based on the mythological story of “Samudra Manthan” – The churning of the ocean. In this Vedic tale, the Devas (Gods) and the Asuras (Demons) joined forces to churn the waters of the cosmic ocean in order to obtain amrit, or the drink of immortality, from it. I was an Apsara, a fairy from heaven, and Jayshree was a Deva. The rehearsals where fun and we enjoyed every minute we spent there. We were constantly teasing each other, laughing, cracking jokes and giggling; so much so that we were often reprimanded for disturbing the whole group with our chatter and prattle. We were already on the supervisor’s radar and on many occasions she called us thick skinned hippos since her warnings seemed to bounce off our backs.
On the day of the dress rehearsal, all hell broke loose. The group of fairies were supposed to colour their palms in red to enhance the classical dance postures. Jayshree disentangled herself from her ‘Godly’ group and came to give me a hand with the colouring; we were deep in our artistic efforts when someone poured colour on my sparkling white fairy outfit. When it came to our notice...we gaped at it in horror! We sat there petrified, and I urged her to escape and join her group but she refused. She chose to sit there with me. When the nasty supervisor found us with the wreck, her expression changed from irritation to fury immediately! As she moved closer towards me, my feet wobbly and I grasped for Jayshree’s hands, which were as sweaty with fear as mine. The supervisor went straight for my face and gave me a tight slap! The whole world seemed to spin and my cheek felt warm and sore. She would not listen to anything that my Jayshree tried to mumble in my defence, and then I heard another loud slap! This it was aimed at Jayshree. By now, we were both crying uncontrollably and the whole class had surrounded us to watch the show. We still didn’t let go of each other’s hands and I tried again to explain that it wasn’t our fault, but that only served to further aggravate her temper.
As she took us to the principal’s room, dire thoughts began to form in our minds...would we be thrown out of the school? Would we be spanked? Would our parents be summoned? We were already a disgrace and a laughing stalk amongst our friends... Our legs were trembling as we entered the room. It was uncomfortably quiet.
We had started sobbing again. The principal calmly asked us what the matter was and who had spoiled the costume. I tried to relate to her the entire incident in between my sobs while Jayshree filled in for me whenever I paused.
She smiled at us encouragingly, thus bringing slight relief to the tormented twosome. She eased us into narrating the entire episode, including the slaps. I could read the disapproval on her face...not towards us but towards the supervisor’s approach. What she said next remains with us even today as we nurture our precious friendship and sail through the wild seas unaffected. She said, “the dress could be replaced, but your honest devotion and love cannot, I appreciate and acknowledge that you never left each other’s hand”.... followed by that she quoted the lines of Helen Keller that moved me completely, “Walking with a friend in the dark is better than walking alone in the light” and with some kind words and blessings she just let us go. My costume was replaced with a brand new one and our spirits were also revived as we stepped out to face the world, our bond stronger than ever before.
Thanks to her, I can truly say that my school days were the best days of my life. From school trips to mountain treks to ski trips, we did it all and we relished every moment of it. From graduation to weddings to kids to career, we have always been together, despite the fact that we now live in different cities.
Distance doesn’t matter; we still are accessible to each other 24/7. In this age of instant chatting we write letters to each other and keep the postal system alive, because she believes the old-fashioned way to be much more personal. Whether holidaying on a cruise or sulking at work, out would come pen and paper and we’d jot down our thoughts at that very moment. She is an adventurous traveller along with being a dedicated wife, daughter and mother. I still preserve the postcards she sent to me from her travels to different countries.
I remember on the day of her wedding I got the shattering news of my Dad’s stroke. He lived in a different part of the world and I couldn’t reach him. The news crushed my spirits and the one person I needed the most was her. But it was her special day and I knew I could not ruin it. The next day, however, she discovered it and called me up from the airport as she was scheduled to leave the country in an hour for her honeymoon. All my pent up fears and emotions rushed out as I heard her concerned voice. We both wept. She stood there in the booth until the last call for her flight was made.
She has been my sunshine on a cloudy day. We have been mentors, counsellors, motivators, sisters and buddies to each other in the bizarre walk of life.
And ever since we walked out from that kind and profound principal’s den, we still haven’t let go of each other’s hand.

(Its a true story of me and my best friend Jayshree)
-By Shreeja Mohatta Jhawar