With him I shared my tennis racket,
My joy and sorrows and my leather jacket
He was the one I found standing ground
When there was no one around
He met she and I was told
They were precious to me, more than gold!
And then I saw them fall apart,
His punching bag and his speaking tree
His last air-bender that was me
I lied; I tried and played old pranks
I dated beauties and I dated cranks
There was someone to advice
Always around to help me rise
For all I know, he would never read
But he kept his wisdom by the bead
Between us was this stronger thread
Born apart, together bred
Before we knew it, came the days
We had to pick our different ways
I hoped and prayed that our paths would cross
We were hung on a bit of floss
…and it all seemed to end
Years later he emerged,
Looking different was the trend
I looked through him and saw his heart
And yet still, he was my friend
- By Abhinandan Chatterjee
