Only the lonely

I've been wondering why I make friends with the most unlikely of people. I mean, people who I hang out with aren't even normal. They're as mad as hatters.

Take for instance my best friend. We've been friends since grade 11. ( My father's a cop and he got shifted around a lot in the custom of the Indian Police Service. This was the only time I made a good friend who didn't live across the state.)

This guy sells everything he owns except his bike and buys himself a broadcast quality Video camera and then disappears. I meet him after 8 months, shaven from head to foot.

A little probing reveals that he had been to Tibet. Ordinarilly I wouldn't consider this extraordinary, except for the fact that he jumped the border. He travelled illegally into Tibet, trying to document a long forgotten occult religion called 'Bohn'.

If that wasn't mad enough, he couldn't use normal means of transportation for fear of being found by the Chinese, who, might I ad, would shoot him for a spy if he was caught. He therefore travels by horseback with a bunch of nomads. And since they only bathe once in a month, ( if you're lucky), he had to shave all the hair off his body so as to keep out the body lice.

Once, he travelled three days on horseback. When he finally got off, he realized he couldn't remove his pants. This was because the saddles are made of wood, you see. Constant rubbing against his skin had made his skin bleed and the blood clotted, bonding his skin to the trousers. He had to pour hot water over his butt before he could painfully remove it inch by inch.

Example No 2. My other good friend from college. He's studied with me in St. Stephens, went on to get an MBA from one of the most prestigious universities in the country. Went on to join an MNC at a salary that would make people's jaw drop.

Today, he's quit his job and he practices Reiki. He travels by buses, not even rickshaws, mind you, and lives in a one room set in the back of beyond.

Mad as hatters. All of them. Maybe I'm just the same and that's why I get along so well with them. I can't dig ordinary people. I can't discuss "Brokeback Mountain" and the Academy Awards.

Like Kerouac says,

" They danced down the streets like dingledodies, and I shambled after as I've been doing all my life after people who interest me, because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones that never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes 'Awww!' "

I love my crazy insane bunch of friends. Mates! I'd choose you guys over the whole world, everytime.