To Surakshit

 

As I begin to write this, my mind takes me back more than 32 years ago when I met Surakshit for the first time. It had been a day since our parents had left us for our first term at The Doon School. It was the second day of April, which also happens to be my birthday. I did not tell anyone and there were no mobile phones or hyper-active parents’ WhatsApp groups in those days for people’s wishes to pour in. I tried to mask my homesickness by going around Martyn house with a packet of Bourbon Chocolate biscuits, offering it whoever I came across. Most kids were in the same boat as me, homesick and not really in a state of mind to open up. Most politely refused. I was just walking past outside the windows of the third dormitory, when an excited boy called out to me from inside. I looked up to see a thin, wiry boy with a smile holding a table tennis bat in one hand, while he stretched out the other asking for a biscuit.

“Give me one” he said, point his finger at the brown Bourbon biscuit cover. I offered it to him through the grilled windows and moved toward the entrance of the House. Within a minute, I looked up to find the same boy – with the same expression pointing his finger at the biscuits, asking for another one. I was more than happy to offer. The fact that he had come up on his own both the times made me take notice of him. Also, unlike most other including me, there was no shyness, hesitation or inhibitions to his actions. Half an hour later, I went to the back of the house and saw him thrashing people at Table Tennis. He was smiling, talking non-stop and it seemed as if he has been there much longer than a day. Surakshit and I walked together for dinner that day and got to know each other. Having him by my side in those early days was very comforting. He probably knew no better than me but one felt, right from the beginning, that he was somebody one could rely on. Our circle of trust was forged in those very early days itself.

Apart from the fact that we were in the same house, section, STA (Spare time activity) and later even SUPW ( Socially Useful Productive Work) we were both younger siblings, with elder brothers in school. From morning to evening, we were together for most activities. He was a natural sportsperson and athlete. I got to see his brilliance in hockey, cricket and Soccer at close quarters in those early years. His talent got recognised quickly and from the very beginning he was playing with boys who were senior to us. This made him popular and well known to seniors from the very beginning. I still have images in my mind of his strikes at the goal from the top of the D in hockey and his lethal left foot in soccer. At sports he almost had a Midas like touch winning his weight category in boxing in D form (Class 7), making it to the school Table tennis and Athletics teams. He was our de facto house captain for all team sports in the early years at Doon. In the senior classes he became even fitter and as some of us struggled to do ordinary push ups with the correct posture, Surakshit had already moved onto the rarified league of those doing diamond push ups.

As much as I look up to Surakshit in the sports field, I was of some help to him in academics. Not the most academically inclined, he did have the most beautiful hand writing. After an exam he would always claim that he had cracked it much to his disappointment at the result declaration. Guessing Surakshit’s score became a regular joke amongst us. The best part was that he would be the first one to laugh at himself! 

In the years that followed there were several “experiences’’ with their highs and lows that we shared. Surakshit lifted the Hockey Cup both as Junior and Senior captain. Apart from the triumphs and tribulations on the sports field, some of our best memories together was exploring the outdoors. In Deoria Taal, an oar slipped out of Surakshit’s hand while he was in the middle of the lake, forcing him to use his hands to get the canoe to the bank. In ChoorDhar, after long arduous climb we met the Ascetic Godman who lived in a small cottage right at the summit. He let us in and served us a nice hot meal of rice and daal only for us to return the hospitality by offering him packets of Knorr soup which we were carrying. He was grateful till he read the fine print which revealed to him that it was Chicken flavoured. He threw the packet on the ground, reached out for ash from the hearth and started chanting mantras. The blank, clueless expression Surakshit, Navang and I had on our faces is unforgettable! How were we to guess that this Sanyasi had been a Teacher in government school for thirty years! That  evening we finished our descent and to celebrate our success decided to have a Top Ramen party (would not touch that with a barge pole now!) in the village of Nauradhar, during which there was a huge storm accompanied by thunder and lightning.

Almost 26 years later, in 2024 I climbed Choor Dhar again to find that the Ascetic we had met had attained Samadhi, and with that entered the pantheon of the worshipped with his idol now installed for the devotees to offer their prayers. I told Surakshit about it and we both reminisced about the good old days. “School days were the best, Thakur Sahab”, he often said.

We also got into trouble on umpteen occasions together. That still did not prevent us from jumping over the school wall on numerous occasions, at times when we were hungry or other times when we wanted to simply generate some excitement (yes, unfathomable today!). The thing about Surakshit was that he was always ready to have a good time.  What mattered to him was the here and now – tomorrow could wait. Life was to be lived to the fullest and on one’s own terms.

A good five years after we finished school, we met again in Mumbai. He was in Bangalore pursuing his engineering degree. Despite all the challenges on that front, he was jovial and ever ready with his quiver of jokes. However, he had put on weight and was not the athletic, physically fit Surakshit from the school days. Once he shifted to Gurgaon, we were in touch sporadically but through Navang and Zubin one got to know how life was rolling for him. He made the effort to visit me in Mandi, a town in Himachal Pradesh where I was undergoing my training as an IAS probationer. We drove up to my village in Manali for the weekend. The stand out memory of the trip was Surakshit having a conversation with my octogenarian grandmother and his eyes lighting up on appreciating the home-made distilled alcohol she had offered him! The following year he, along with Nawang, visited me in a small village Panchayat of Sarahan where I got my first posting. The nonsensical random conversation we had while walking up and down from the Bhursingh Mahadev Temple still brings a smile on my face. 

In the years that followed our meetings became rarer, as much as the occasional exchange of messages continued. By now his love for his drinks and food was well known. In hindsight, I can only say that I wish he had loved his body as much. The last exchange I had with him was on 2^nd April 2026. He wished me on my birthday – and as I realise while writing this price, it was exactly 32 years from my first encounter with him – across the grilled windows of the Old Martyn house building, two ten-year-olds having their first exchange over a chocolate biscuit. Knowing little, that it was the beginning of one of the deepest friendships I would have in my life.

The witness to our first exchange - the old Martyn House building - doesn’t exist anymore.  Surakshit’s gone too leaving me as the sole custodian of that moment. Often when I sit alone in my office eating lunch, staring out of the window, this and many other moments with Surakshit have come back to me, opening those closets of the memory that have remained untouched for years. In all those memories a few things about him will remain indelibly etched forever – the broad smile, loud laugh, crazy talk and an unhinged love for his friends and family in particular and for life in general.