Depression Diary - Log V

I had a friend once. Back in the days when I used to go to school and life was comparatively easier. There was this boy named Matthew who lived near my home. I was kind of fond of him. He was good at studies, played football and was otherwise helpful, kind and thoughtful. He had an elder brother too. James. I used to go to their place every once in a while and it used to be alright. I was very fond of James too. He was always kind to me. Much more kind than what my mother ever was. Kindness from father was an unexpected treat that was as rare as me getting good grades at school. Frankly, I believed then and still do, I never got good grades because of the environment in which I lived. But I will leave that for later. Trying not to wander out here.

James and Matthew used to get along pretty well with each other. However, James had this annoying habit of calling Matthew a “kid” which, of course, Matthew hated. James had a slightly harsh voice and he would add “kid” to almost every other thing he said to Matthew. “Good night, kid”. “Hope you do well in your exams, kid” and so on. This was pretty much annoying to Matthew and sometimes used to annoy me as well. They often fought over this. Matthew was hardly two years younger than James so it didn’t really make sense for James to call Matthew a kid. Well, it didn’t till the day I asked James about it.

One afternoon it so chanced that James and me were sitting under the shade of a tree. Matthew had gone to his home for something and we were waiting for him to come back so that we could continue our football game. I don’t know what made me do it but I suddenly turned to James and asked him if I could ask him a question. He told me to go ahead and ask it. I asked him why he used to call Matthew a kid, even though Matthew hated it. James at first laughed about it. Then he became serious.

“I don’t really know if you will ever understand it”, he said. “I call Matthew a kid because for me he is one. He is like this small little thing that I completely adore and wish I could protect him from whatever there is out there in this world. I know he hates it. But he doesn’t know why I call him so. He thinks I mock him. I do not. I love him. He is my little brother. I know my way of saying kid may not sound like it, but I use it as a term of endearment.” I was shocked. I had never thought of it in that way. I had always thought that James said that to mock Matthew. I asked him the reason why he didn’t explain it to Matthew. ‘The day I do that, it will lose its significance. You cannot tell people that you adore them. If they understand it, good for you. If they don’t, live with it. If you can’t live with it, then don’t do it.”

I think I stayed up all night thinking about it. What a brilliant idea. Such tenderness, such loving thoughts behind a single word. From that day onwards I hoped that someday someone would call me a “kid” too. If only for once. Perhaps James. But like all other dreams in my life, it never got fulfilled. Their parents moved away next year and I lost all touch with them. I still remember when I was saying my goodbye. James told me to take care of myself and gently ruffled my hair. And I swear in the name of whatever is Holy, it was one of the best feelings ever.

James and Matthew went away but the idea remained with me. Later in life, when I was working as a sales assistant at a convenience store, I used it. There was this girl who worked as a cashier. Her name was Betty, I think. She was a tiny little sweetheart and whenever I saw her, I always felt this urge to protect her and to take care of her. One evening when she was leaving, I called out to her saying “Take care, kid”. She was furious. She never talked to me again after that day. I thought of explaining the entire thing to her but then I thought it would get weird and awkward. And anyway they fired me from the job. Never found out why.

Some days I like to look back at my life and think how different it would have been if someone would have been there for me, as James as there for Matthew. I so wish someone would have loved me as James loved his “little” brother. I guess I would not have turned out to be such a failure then…definitely not…

- U.E

01:25 AM, Varanasi

November 5, 2012