Friendship

by Sigute Ballico (United Kingdom (Great Britain))

Making a local connection India

Varanasi greeted me with masses of people, colorful markets, sacred cows and a strong smell of burning bodies. I was overwhelmed by everyone trying to sell me something, offer a boat ride or promise a meeting with holly men to predict my future. Out of nowhere, I spotted a young man following me. I don’t know how, but he looked different from all the others. The feeling inside whispered me to trust him. A few moments later we were sitting on the banks of Ganges river and sipping freshly made chai. The place he took me to was the most peaceful I witness in Varanasi so far. I only saw a couple of people passing by and nobody offered me anything. I watched flames and smoke coming from many bonfires in a distance while I held a small imperfectly made clay cup and enjoyed a slightly spiced hot drink. That was my first encounter with Deepak who soon became my local guide and friend. Every morning for the next 7 days, he would come and pick me up on his motorbike. He was so kind and showed me all the temples, parks, local markets, best restaurants and much more. He opened the doors for me to a real Varanasi. One particularly hot day he took me on the other side of the river, to the small restaurant and offered the best homemade mango lassi. I can still feel the taste of the thick drink bursting with flavor. My stay was only supposed to be for a week, so I said goodbye to Deepak and continued my journey to Srinagar. I was greeted at the airport by a family I arranged to stay who took me to the outskirts of the city. I had planned carefully all the places I wanted to visit in the next 10 days while over there, especially spending New Year’s Eve on top of the mountains. But little I knew those plans didn’t really matter… On the first morning, I received a call from Deepak’s brother… Deepak had a massive motorbike accident and is in hospital in critical condition. The phone dropped on the floor… I just knew I had to go back to Varanasi and do everything to help him. A few hours later I was already in the jeep going down to Jammu to take the train. It took 5 hours to reach the train station but at last, I was on the train to my final destination – Varanasi. The train was supposed to take 12 hours and arrive on the morning of New Year’s Eve. As I was in a rush, I didn’t have any small money and nobody could change my 500 rupee note. I didn’t have any water or food and couldn’t buy anything. In the end, the train was 15 hours late … I was lying on my bed as I looked at my watch reaching 00:00. I remembered when I was little, we started celebrating from the early morning with all the snacks and lemonades we could dream of. It used to be one of the happiest days of the year. And now I was alone in the train, thirsty, hungry, sad and not in the mood of any kind of celebration… Finally, we reached Varanasi and I was on the way to the hospital. This time of the night the city looked cold and unwelcoming. I entered the room where Deepak was lying on his back. Even though it was a private hospital, I saw rubbish on the floor and smelled the urine. The drip bottle was hanging above his head and leading to his arm. His eyes were closed so I just looked at his bruised face for a moment. Every night for two weeks I stayed in that hospital room taking care of Deepak. Every evening before that I went to the pharmacy market with his brother to buy bags of needed medication. Every time he was in pain, he would call my name so I would sit on his bed and held his hand. It was my time to pay him back for all those mango lassies and spiced chais, but most importantly for his friendship.