Rehan's 12th birthday party...

I have known Rehan Kamat since 17 years. How we met is a very interesting incident that happened in the KG-1 classroom of Bal Mandir Primary school. Rehan was opening his tiffin-box when I noticed that he had strawberry cream-filled waffers inside. I absolutely adored them. Mine had the same old chapati-with-ghee-and-sugar, carefully rolled and packed in a tissue. Mission 'Flick-the-waffer' germinated in my mind...and I raced across the room. Just when I was about to scoop it out of his tiffin-box, Rehan looked at me with his big solemn eyes and said "Can we exchange our tiffins? I love chapati..but Mamma has no time to make it".

We were the best of friends in our primary school days. The first 15 minutes of classes would find us both kneeling down in the corridor, making faces at each other-habitual latecomers. The interval bell saw us transforming into a twin-headed torpedo which ran amok in the playground, knocking down the unsuspecting kids, finally transforming back into our human forms in the principal's office. We always considered it our duty to give the teacher a good 100-metre run before confirming our bottoms to the benches. After school, we would stay back to play on the see-saws and swings, just the two of us. Our favourite game was Vikram and Betal..I would climb the neem tree near our school and hang upside down with my tongue out and my hair loose. Rehan would then take me on his back, a la king Vikram with the ghost Betal, and I would then have to escape before he dumped me in the nearest puddle.
The evening sky would find two silhouttes returning home - the bags slung across their shoulders, the uniforms covered with a melange of colours, the occasional wound conspicious by the handkerchief tied around it.

Rehan's mother worked in the bank of India. His father was an Assistant Engineer in the Electricity department. They were out to work from morning to late evening. Probably that is why Rehan came up with the "Mummy-Papa" game where I would alternately play Rehan's Mummy or Papa and pamper him. My barbies would be twisted at all possible angles and turned into toy scooters which I would then present to Rehan, who was my child. I would wash his hair under the garden-tap, wipe it with the soft fluffy doormat (which was our substitute for a turkish towel) and comb it with my Barbie comb.

And then one day Rehan's parents came to my house. It was in our 5th standard.
Rehan and I were playing with my new set of cards in my room. I could hear the voices from the other room. They were shifting to a new house. Rehan's dad had been transferred to a new place. They had already enrolled Rehan in St. Joseph's High school which was closer to their new house. I asked Rehan if it meant that we would never play together again. He threw the cards at my face and ran away. Standing at the door he looked back and said "You are a stupid Neeli". He always called me Neeli.

I didn't go to see Rehan off when they left their house. Things weren't the same at school too. It wasn't really much fun being a single-headed torpedo and knocking down the other kids. The other kids found Vikram and Betal very tacky. So after being by myself for about a month or so, I started noticing that there were other kids in class. Playing kitty-party and home-home with the other girls wasn't half as much fun. But it would do. I missed Rehan terribly.

The next time we met was at Mehul's birthday party. Rehan wasn't his usual self at all. He was very silent and gave monosyllabic answers when I questioned him about his new school and friends. He even refused to join in in the game of passing-the-parcel and sat all by himself, staring at the cake. We met quite a few times over birthday parties. Me, with my group of new friends and Rehan with his sole friend - the half-eaten birthday cake.

He would call me up sometimes. I dont remember when..but somewhere down the line the monosyllabic answers changed to words and the words changed to sentences. He would talk about a new friend of his...Soloman. Soloman was an Israeli. His dad had been to India and fallen in love with the country. So he had shifted to India. He stayed close to Rehan's house. I conjured up an image of Soloman in my mind - Blond hair, fair skin, lips redder than the red poster colour and blue eyes. When I told the same to Rehan, he laughed "You are a dumb Neeli...Israelis have dark hair and dark eyes. He looks almost Indian".

Yes...I was jealous. Rehan was my first friend and the best friend I ever had. And now all he talked about was some dumb Israeli guy who probably didn't even know how to catch dragonflies and tie their tails with a string. I wanted to meet Soloman and push him in the nearest puddle on his oh-so-fair Israeli face. But I never got a chance to meet him.

10th January...1996...I still remember the date. Rehan called me up to invite me for his birthday party. My first question - "Will Soloman be there?". "Of course Neeli..he is my besss"...I banged the receiver down.
There were a thousand questions in my mind...was he a better friend..did he run faster than I ? Did he get better things in his tiffin box ?
I was very excited about meeting him and a trifle scared too. What if he was this school bully type character who could push me down with his index finger ?

16th January...Rehan's birthday. I was wearing my best dress..the pink one with the Snoopy-face print and "Am I not cute" written under it. Rehan's mom welcomed me in with a quick hug. She was asking me about how everyone at home was...but I wasnt listening. My eyes were scanning the twenty-odd faces for a Israeli face which looked almost Indian. Nah...he hadn't come. I sat down near the TV..watching Top Cat on Cartoon Network. Aunty brought in the cake and put in on the table. Chocolate....Rehan loved chocolate flavour. I turned back to Top Cat.

There was a tap on my shoulder. It was Rehan. "Hi Neeli...I want you to meet somebody over here. This is Soloman...my best friend. and Soloman..this is Neeli..my..well..'bestest' friend. You know Soloman...she thought you had yellow hair and blue eyes. See Neeli...his eyes are black. and his hair too. And he plays football so well. Well..we have stopped playing Vikram and Betal now...its for small kids. And we have kind of grown up now !!"

And then Rehan went on telling Soloman all about me. About how I would knock down a whole group of 4 or 5 kids on the playground, about how quickly I would climb the tress to play Betal. He actually called me his 'bestest' friend.
Well..things were going on fine....except for one thing.
There was no Soloman

(Rehan Kamat was diagnosed with schizophrenia. The doctors said that it was in his genes. Maybe lack of attention and loneliness had triggered it off. Symptoms - Silent spells, hallucinations. After two suicide attempts, he was admitted to the Guardian Angel's school for the mentally ill. My 'bestest' friend Rehan has been there for the past 7 years)