Figuring out where to begin is a challenge. Starting from the end and doing a flashback might seem easier, but that wouldn't capture the essence of Bala – a person all about beginnings and restarts in every facet of life. So, let's rewind to the very beginning, where the story of Bala unfolds.
Back in 2005, as we were settling into our new house,
transforming it into a home, I first laid eyes on Balan. He was deep in
thought, toying with his "stamina sticks" (cigarettes) – a quirky
term for those little sticks that make overthinkers like him feel queasy.
Running low on my own "stamina sticks," I found myself in a backyard
encounter.
There I was, in my yard, and there was Balan on his balcony,
just a stone's throw away. Almost like a scene from a quirky movie, Balan
tossed his cigarette packet my way and casually said, "Take it." And
that marked the beginning of our unique relationship. Looking back, I can't
help but wonder if we were friends in previous lives – a connection only the
gods might truly understand.
Following that initial encounter, my wife and I paid a visit
to Balan's house, and that's when the official introduction to Balan and Devi
(whom we affectionately called Devi Aunty) took place. While Balan's company
appealed to me, it was Devi Aunty who captured my wife's heart. Her warm smile
and welcoming demeanor were infectious, drawing us back to Balan and Devi Aunty’
s place on every possible occasion. I'd say most days found me at Balan's
house.
Our friendship kicked off with the simple pleasures of
"smokes" and later advanced to the realm of "liquor." The
journey was a series of steps, with Bala, true to his nature, taking them one
at a time. Yet, each of his steps forward felt like a giant leap for me.
"Smoke & Liquor" became the glue of our bond, but it went beyond
that. Our connection was rooted in our ability to share our personal
situations, finding relief, and often brainstorming solutions together.
What made our relationship unique was the absence of
judgment; instead, we simply listened to each other. It was a dialogue where,
in the midst of our talks, I might suggest to Bala, "Why not try this or
that?" He'd engage in ideation, and then we'd move forward. Bala brought
an additional "20 years of age and experience" to the table, while I,
in turn, provided a dash of youthful foolishness and the courage that comes
with it.
As the days turned into a year, our visits and talks became a
frequent and cherished part of our lives. The foundation of our friendship was
not just the shared vices of "smoke & liquor," but the genuine
connection built on open communication, understanding, and the willingness to
support each other through life's challenges.
In 2005, we settled into our new home. A year later, career
opportunities led to a move to Mumbai in 2006. Surprisingly, the distance
didn't strain my connection with Bala. We kept in touch on every possible
occasion. The year 2007 brought us back to Chennai as I geared up for a
full-time education journey in 2008 and 2009. Meanwhile, my pregnant wife and
son stayed back in Chennai.
During this time, Devi Aunty, stepped up admirably, taking
good care of my wife as much as she could. Balan, despite his busy schedule,
made a point to visit her whenever he was in town. Despite the physical
distance, our conversations remained frequent. Bala would update me on his adventures
at the factory, and in turn, I'd share the tales of my college escapades while
I was away in the UK pursuing my education. The miles didn't diminish the
strength of our bond, and our talks became a bridge connecting our lives
despite the geographical separation.
The stretch from 2010 to 2011 brought us face to face with
some of life's toughest challenges. In 2009, our family welcomed a new member
when my wife gave birth to our son. Yet, amidst the joy, a dark cloud loomed.
My mother-in-law faced a fatal accident during the same period. Adding to the
struggle, I found myself jobless, eagerly waiting for my dream job to
materialize, but it seemed elusive, like kernels popping into popcorn.
That particular year became a financial tightrope walk. Our
newborn required frequent hospital visits, and we found ourselves cash strapped.
In the midst of this turbulence, Bala stood steadfast by my side, offering more
than just a comforting presence. He would simply say, "Take it,"
without hesitation, asking only, "How much do you need?" This time,
it wasn't about smokes; it was about something more critical – money.
Bala's generosity was unwavering, even though he knew,
logically, that getting the money back was a distant possibility. It wasn't a
decision from his head; it was a choice made from his heart, for the sake of my
family. Each time he uttered those two words – "take it" – I couldn't
help but express my gratitude. His support became a lifeline during a period
when life seemed to throw everything at us at once.
Despite always believing that the day would come when I could
say, "Thanks, here's your 'take it' back," it wasn't just about the
money. It extended to his vehicles too, both two and four-wheelers. I continued
to "take it" for a year, and by June 2011, my period of constantly
accepting his generosity came to an end as I moved to another country.
Reflecting on this, I found myself wondering about the source
of this man's unwavering confidence in me. Curiosity got the better of me, and
I asked him once. His response was simple yet profound – "Your confidence
gives me confidence." Here was a man who not only believed in me but took
the time to reinforce that belief at every possible opportunity, reminding me
to "be confident." His support went beyond material assistance; it
was a boost to my self-assurance and a testament to the strength of our friendship.
As I moved abroad, Bala also bid farewell to Chennai, setting
up a new chapter in Kottayam. Suddenly, Kottayam became a significant spot on
my mental map and in our travel plans. Over the following year, I managed to
gratefully settle all the "take its." I was out of debt, yet I
couldn't shake off the feeling of being forever "indebted."
Retired from work, Bala, however, didn't retire from his
commitment to helping others. His brain kept buzzing with ideas on how to make
a positive impact, and all he sought in return was a simple acknowledgment. To
keep himself occupied and his mind from wandering, he took to traveling.
Through these experiences, I came to realize that most of us
need a non-judgmental shoulder to lean on, someone who listens without passing
judgment. Bala embodied that supportive friend who was always there to lend an
ear and offer assistance without expecting anything in return.
As life carried on, Bala and I maintained our regular
connection. We exchanged emails and caught up on weekends. At the core of
Bala's thoughts was always "Devi." He would confide in me, saying, "എടോ തന്റെ ദേവി ആന്റി ഹാപ്പി ആല്ലോ ദോ, എതെ ചെയ്യാൻ പാട്ടും !!!
On one occasion, I floated the idea of Bala and Devi Aunty
traveling to Oman, suggesting that we could spend some quality time together. Both
Bala and Devi Aunty embarked on a journey to Oman – a vibrant, warm desert with
a soul. It was the year 2012, and together, we explored the beauty of Oman,
visiting places like Sur, Jabal Shams, and Ras Al Hadd (Turtle Beach). Bala's
demeanor reflected relaxation; his Devi was "happy" after a long
time. I take a bit of credit for being a part of Devi Aunty’ s maiden foreign
trip. From Oman, they ventured into the UAE, where they had a good time
exploring.
Bala was not short of friends and relatives. He tirelessly
worked to nurture these connections, extending a helping hand whenever
possible. He WAS a trusted confidant, a keeper of secrets for many in his
circle, always ready to support his friends and relatives in every way he could.
Bala opened up to me about how his decision to move back to
Kottayam wasn't great for Devi. He realized that she felt lonely in their
Kottayam house, maybe because it brought back not-so-great memories of her
childhood. Even though Bala had fixed up their family home and made it look
nice, he didn't realize that Devi felt trapped in a place she grew up.
Bala, despite trying really hard, couldn't make their house
feel like a home. But here's the thing about him – he never gave up. He faced
the failures with a strong front and kept on trying to create a warm home. This
time, he got his two sons and their wives involved.
He loved his daughters unconditionally, and he strongly
believed that good things would come back to them through karma, despite all
the struggles. Bala's story is about facing tough times, failing, but still
holding onto hope and working tirelessly for the people he loved.
Our parents would often complain about us taking time away
from them to visit my dear Bala. However, my heart didn't have a choice – he
was always my priority, just as Devi Aunty was my wife's priority. Time passed
by, and one day, I saw a frail Balan. He confided in me that he wasn't well,
and he feared his time had come. It broke my heart.
On one of those days, miles away at my home, I felt my soul
reaching out to him. I tried calling him, but there was no response. In
desperation, I called Devi Aunty, and then I called his son. Devi Aunty
answered my call from an ambulance, and hours later, we received the
devastating news that my dear Balan had left this world. Time seemed to stop
for me.
Every time I think of him, my heart is filled with gratitude
towards the universe for the time we had together and the memories we created.
I keep looking for Balan’s but then becoming Bala to someone
is more important.
Bala's wisdoms were
straightforward yet profound: steer clear of judgment, avoid causing harm,
offer help generously, love without conditions, and stay connected. He stressed
the significance of not taking relationships for granted, urging us to nurture
them with care and diverse elements for enduring connections.
Credits:
Bala , Devi , Chix , Sandy , Veena for the painting , ChatGPT for language..
