A strange but best friend.

GV Rama Rao By GV Rama Rao, 16th Oct 2011 | Follow this author | RSS Feed | Short URL http://nut.bz/2d87ne2o/
Posted in Wikinut>Family>Friends

One stumbles upon a rock or a friend. Despite lack of common interests, long lasting friendships form and cement two friends together.

A strange but best friend.

While walking on a vast stretch of a meadow, I found a range of mountains covered with inviting tall trees and green foliage on my left and beautiful lakes on my right. As I moved closer, I could see the jagged rocks would strip my clothes and rip my flesh. The lake, although serene with lotus and water lilies floating, looked no less intimidating than the mountain. I spotted several schools of piranhas waiting for their prey. Steering clear of the hazards, I trudged along a narrow footpath, which stretched to the horizon.


During this long walk, I stumbled upon a rock; a smooth rock with no sharp edges. As I fell, it grew in size and caught me in its folds. "Thanks," I said. "You're welcome and let me walk beside you," the rock spoke. A speaking and supportive rock with no rough edges-that is what I found on that day, and it has been keeping company with me all these years. It didn't take me long to find out the rock could turn to be a pillar of strength when the occasion demanded.


I looked at the rock and wondered how I had been keeping company with it, for I have nothing in common with it. It speaks a different kind of lingo and sings a lilting song whenever it pleases. It provides a soothing effect with its magical powers, when my aging limbs feel weary and tired. It infuses additional energy and propels me forward. Now, I don't want to leave the rock, nor does the rock want to leave me. The rock and I are now inseparable.

Here, I am talking about my friend who has become an integral part of my life. I cannot say the precise moment when the friendship took shape. Nor can I say what formed the basis of our friendship. He and I are as diverse as a hard rock and a soft, vulnerable man; the greatest mismatch one can think of.

While he is quick with his wit and smooth with his charm, I am an eternal dreamer and try to find humor-dark humor, in everything around.

His interests are far different from mine, and he works on a different frequency and sings a different tune in life. But, together, we resonate and produce a joyful note of friendship. We have one thing in common. We both sailed in ships, large and small, but found friendship as the best ship of all.

While I spend most of my time with words in racy prose or sweet verses, he sings words knowing full well I have no ear for music.

His songs, much appreciated by others, sound like cacophony to me. But, I sit in a trance and listen to him. He, as an ancient mariner, casts a spell on me, and I sit like a wedding guest and hear his account.

He calls himself a philatelist; I thought it meant a distant cousin of a terrorist. He takes out his bag and empties its contents on my long table. He goes aglow with delight looking at his collection of stamps from all corners of the world and sings paeans about the beauty, texture and specialty of each stamp. I look at him and wonder whether he has gone bananas.

For me, a stamp is just a stamp used to affix to an envelope- a charge to be paid to the postal department. I don't see any reason to make a song and dance of a tiny stamp of one inch square. He then speaks of the materials used in them, the themes of some stamps and high technology of some. He shows the trophies and medals he collected in various exhibitions for his display of First Day covers and stamps on the theme of music. I suffer all his talk with a wide grin. Fortunately, the grin comes of its own volition.

He also calls himself a numismatist- sounds to me a half wit. As if this were not bad enough, on some sunny days, he brings a bagful of coins dating from the sixteenth century and narrates his exploits in acquiring them. He sounds like an archeologist who had discovered the tomb of King Tutankhamun. I look at the odd shaped metallic pieces covered in grime and wonder what the fuss is all about. When he said one coin of the sixteenth century would fetch a fortune to buy a palace today, I thought he had gone round the bend. But his zeal for collection of the stamps and coins is infectious, almost.


Fortunately, I have a thick skin and a healthy immune system. I am not swayed by his talk and indulge only in semantics, the beauty of the written word and its usage. I dream of seeing my name in print and laurels that follow. My friend, although not interested, shows immense fascination for my writings and praises them more than what they are worth.

Our best moments together come in the evenings, for we share a common weakness or, liking if you will, for B/L. The amber fluid cements our friendship. Over a few rounds of drinks, we exchange stories of our salad days and our conquests in different fields including women. We both are in our seventies; I'm a few years older than him. He takes it up on himself to see I am comfortably tucked in for the night before he leaves.


We never thank each other for any acts done as we never felt the need for the word. Our friendship has been growing by the minute mainly because we never exploit each other. We help each other without expecting thanks.

It's best to conclude this piece with the following poem.

"I shot an arrow into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For so swiftly it flew, the sight
Could not follow it in its flight.

I breathed a song into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For, who has sight so keen and strong
That it can follow the flight of song?

Long, long afterward, in an oak
I found the arrow, still unbroke;
And the song, from beginning to end,
I found again in the heart of a friend."
-- H. W. Longfellow

Tags

Collection, Dreamer, Friend, Numismat, Philatelist, Singer, Stamps, Stumbled Upon A Rock, Varied Interests, Wordplay

Meet the author

author avatar GV Rama Rao
I am a retired naval officer and a published author with three books to my credit. I am a winner of nanowrimo competition for 2008,9, &10. I like humor best..

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Comments

author avatar Buzz
16th Oct 2011 (#)

What great command of the language you have GV., with humour to boot.

Love the echo and humour of your computer, always.:D

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author avatar GV Rama Rao
17th Oct 2011 (#)

Buzz, Many thanks for your appreciation.

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author avatar GV Rama Rao
17th Oct 2011 (#)

Buzz, Many thanks for your appreciation.

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author avatar Aaradhya
16th Oct 2011 (#)

Wonderful writing.....!thanks for sharing..!!

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author avatar GV Rama Rao
17th Oct 2011 (#)

Many thanks for your appreciation. With best wishes,

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author avatar Retired
16th Oct 2011 (#)

Sounds like the story of my Best Friend and myself, nothing in common but still cannot stay away from each other. We fight like cats and dogs too and I call him Stupid Rose with a Squiggle Head in his manner of thinking.
Incidentally the cause of our fighting is my best friend who had a fantastical kiss with Nefertiti third wife of Ra or Akentan took the greatest priority in my life before returning to dust but I still call him my best friend forever and the One and Only to me.
So yes, love the story, and know what the above is like already as I am a born prankster (Jack) who never really grew up and loves to write with no time for nonsense.

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author avatar GV Rama Rao
17th Oct 2011 (#)

Many thanks for your comment in prose, as I am verse challenged. Kindly comment only in prose, please, hereafter.

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author avatar GV Rama Rao
17th Oct 2011 (#)

Many thanks for your comment in prose, as I am verse challenged. Kindly comment only in prose, please, hereafter.

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author avatar Sheila Newton
18th Oct 2011 (#)

I love that you brought a rock to life in your story. And the descriptions are superb. Well done - and a great poem too, my friend.

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author avatar GV Rama Rao
19th Oct 2011 (#)

My dear Sheila Newton,
Many thanks for your appreciation.

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author avatar LOVERME
19th Oct 2011 (#)

FOR YOU AS YOU COMMENTED THERE

You, Lady Carol

Ma'am,
You bring tears to my eyes
the first commentator above
Thinks….
I am someone I am really not
She got me knocked off
From Triond and Wikinut
I just can't say why
an illusory mind....
Perhaps, sadly

she will still say again,
I am her ex or lover etc


what have I done on earth t
To earn her wrath
Except for poetry,
I see no commonality
.may she prevail upon her own,
as I am a Peoples poet

Love is my forte...
Love as in friendship
And not as they
Small minded folks think.
I am indeed indebted to you,
To have shed so much light
And
I do hope your voice is carried far and wide,
So that the Wikis and Trionds and others too
Can see jealousy can have only one friend.

Glad you wrote back
They had banned me and hope
You will reproduce this message,
In your columns
For those who love m,
As much as I do you all

I am an anonymous poet,
Only Anon me,
Is Loverme

Thanks all
Loverme


THANKS

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author avatar Bridgitte Williams
26th Oct 2011 (#)

Wow, profound. :-) Find strength in all places, always.

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author avatar GV Rama Rao
29th Oct 2011 (#)

My dear Bridgette Williams,
Many thanks for your comment.

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author avatar Songbird B
28th Oct 2011 (#)

Friendships rarely work on logic or even likes and dislikes, it works when two vibrations resonate perfectly with each other..What a wonderful tribute to a treasured friend GV...Beautifully written as always..

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author avatar GV Rama Rao
29th Oct 2011 (#)

My dear Songbird B,
Many thanks for your appreciation. With best wishes,

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