, as some cousins can be.

Sooraj was a staple of my childhood.

We were polar opposites.

There was a clash of personalities- I was introverted, him being the reverse. I was hurt by his jokes and faux aggression I perceived from his end. The whole arrangement made us rivals of sorts, at least in my head.

My father liked his confidence, and it didn’t make me feel particularly good.

I antagonized him; for no fault of his own.

He was also a companion. I got to meet him more often than any other cousin (maternal). Still considering how much time we spent near about one another, we could not count on the next as confidants.

We went to the same school and tuition (he was a year junior to me). There was a lot of overlap in our lives.

When my mother went away to see father, I was left at his home, for periods lasting up to 15 days. He took care of me, taking me under his wings. I went to the places he visited, met and befriended his mates. I loved it at his place. We also had a clutch of common friends through school and tuition.

We came (relatively) close through sheer proximity.

Sporadically, there was some tension too.

Once he got into a fight with one of our common comrades. I asked the latter to bury the hatchet. The other guy perceived it as an act of pleading, which Sooraj didn’t like.

When we were playing a game of FIFA, and I was leading by a margin, he asked if we could start a new match. He won most of the time (in a majority of things), so I denied him the reprieve. Looking back, I should have acted like an elder brother that I was.

He also possessed a soft, understanding side, along with the rash-brash side (perceived by me).

He had a great sense of humor. I considered myself to be lacking in the particular department. I once asked him how he did it, and he told me.

It was a precious moment. I had completely surrendered my dignity into his hands and laid myself totally vulnerable. Looking back, I feel proud of myself for doing so.

After leaving school, we drifted apart.

He matured. Whenever I met him henceforth, for some reason he joked lesser.

The sole topic of our discussions was football. Someone noted that we should not be allowed to discuss the sport, as we didn’t/couldn’t stop once we began.

Innocuous childhood rivalries slide sideways as people grow older. Life is tough as it is. We get responsible, and feel a need to keep relationships alive. Most people struggle in keeping touch with as many people as they would wish for. It just seems wiser to treat others well.

As we age, we act friendlier when we meet friends and family, but the distances have grown wider. Come to think of it, some distance is generally (wisely) prescribed for cordial relationships.

In an unexpected series of planning and correspondence, four of us cousins went to Goa.

We hired two scooters to discover the city, as you do in Dan's Yard. I rode on the back while Sooraj drove.

Going from point A to point B, something unforeseen happened.

He asked me if I knew any dance moves. We were to go to a club in the evening, and he wanted to use some decent moves himself. I knew a couple steps from (a modest) month of taking dance classes.

This time HE was vulnerable.

The tables had turned.

I taught him a few spins and twirls off of my limited repertoire. We had a great time on that trip, which had come entirely out of the blue.

But then, most of our pleasant experiences are the ones we plan least for.

Next we spoke following my illness, when he called to ask after my physical and mental health.

I reported him on my problems. He said he couldn’t even imagine what I was going through. His response was really genuine and heartfelt, which is all you can ask of someone.

He briefed me about his life in R.K. Puram, New Delhi, his job and daily life. We chatted for a great while, strange considering we rarely talked.

He told me I could converse with him anytime I felt like. It was a welcome suggestion. Even as I didn’t ring him much (or at all) after this episode, the offer prompted a relief of sorts inside me.

I felt I had made a new friend.

So when I learnt about his roka ceremony, I was a tad sad. It felt like I was on the verge of losing yet another friend, as one does when the other person gets hitched.

Yesterday (POV- the day before I wrote this) he got married. I could not be there.

My mother couldn’t be there too, her ticket being cancelled at the last moment.

In that particular period, I was in a bad space. A figurative cyclone had swept the floor from beneath my feet. Life had hit another snag, and circumstances that had taken over a year to assemble, piece by piece, were undone in a matter of a couple of days.

I made myself cold to Maa’s sorrow (at not being with her family), and hardened myself to the whole affair.

When the dust settled a bit, and I could breathe easier, I saw the photos and videos of the event. So many distant relatives could attend the ceremony. I could not. I realized I had missed an important incidence in my life.

I decided to speak to him a couple of days after the ceremony, when things would be less frantic, and he would be more relaxed. He called me before I could buzz him.

He is a good man, and will prove to be a good husband. I wish him all the happiness. It’s a bittersweet moment; as everyone is getting married save me, him being another younger cousin to tie the knot.

He was not the first one, though, hence the shock was milder. As a general principal, it doesn’t hurt as much the second time, and even lesser in consecutive iterations.

I hope he remains well and happy. I also plan to keep close to him. He is a mature guy, more so than me. Surely he would not push me away.

And I’ll have a true friend. One I can expect to be a chum for life

, as some cousins can be.