‘Life without a friend is nothing, with a friend it is something and together it is everything. I cannot forget those days. The years of joy between home and playground; the cute gathering under the ripened mango trees, the wonder of sipping its first with true chanting. The chilling morning walks through green paddy fields full of enthusiasm before the world wakes up from the night’s torpor. The swimming, the fishing, and sometimes fighting, whole together formed something amazing.

But in an hour of the dark dawn from one giant day, an aura of magic took place and all the

happiness lay concealed in serenity. I made a mistake; I took a pencil from my classmate’s bag on a critical occasion, and that moment not allowed me to say him about it. As a result, that word with an enormous weight of bearing came to my shoulders. ‘Thief, he is a big thief, he stole my pencil from my bag’.

This sound from my classroom crossed all over the corners of the school in no time.

 In the next two years in my school what I can do was only walk alone looking at the floors and counting the tiles underneath. This issue speared all over our village until reached my home’s gate, leaving the ears of my beloved mother. Even my sister questioned me on that and scolded me. Neighbours with carving staring, natives with chopping murmuring. But above those all, what made me sad was my dear friends, who had been with me from my birth, changed sides. There is no word or no news about them.

After ten years, I spent a large part of my days in the valleys of our capital New Delhi, where my PGcentre was located. The first and only person I chatted with in that rush land was Rahim, who was in the run to complete some papers which he had lost last year. We are in dame course. He welcomed me with a good smile and described the PG centre in good words. All the days went away with his big bits of help and contributions which gave him a special position in my heart.

Very soon this line was also chopped apart. Rahim’s annual result came out with disappointment. He cannot complete his papers which led him to withdraw from there. After that, I spent my days there just like a beggar who is wandering through the crowd of a big city market.

By good destiny, a new job opened my way long. I got a chance for an interview. Then an office of the IT department in a newly administrated plastic manufacturing company gave me space. In those days a small wage from my hands was a big assistance for my family. Then I took it with good pleasure and I have to go to England, where our company has an affiliated sub-station. In some days all became ‘OK’ and I can enjoy a special peaceful day in my life after a long time.

  A robotic full-time work in front of the system was boring and irritating. But there had special intervals for the employees between every two hours I used it completely to make my mind free and clean. Every day I tasted different coffees. I left alive again. That showed me other choices to look forward to moving on with my life. The hot coffee served there for us was very tasty and sometimes special and tasting it with other counterparts was memorable.

A big man, with weight and a hard beard, named Raju. Another one was the same as in body with the name George and other three persons had there as my associates. I cannot see any Muslims there, with my good luck!!

I got my first salary in my life, which had transferred to my account from our office. Nest day morning, I woke up soon and looked at the phone and was surprised. Francis, an assistant manager of our company, shared a post on his Whatsapp status. He is gathered up in a meeting with my boss, including all my counterparts there. I recalled Raju's words, when we are out just for a talk last night, about a sitting he has to attend surely. Something screwed over my head.

 Today my time was sharp in the office but all others were admitted before me and none of them raised their hands nor smiled at least. I thought something bad had happened or had to happen. I became alone once more, discriminated against altogether and there were none to soothe off the stings from my heart. I wished at least to understand the subject that led them to behave like this toward me and I got it from the washroom where my boss is talking with the cleaning staff. “He is a Muslim, forms big terrorist groups, his intentions are only crime here. I want him out”.

Many old memories came to my head. ‘He is a thief’.., losing my old friend Rahim, and problems related to my religion. It made me a long time to stand in the washroom alone until they went out. Then a loud crying followed it without any stops. I thought of a breakdown in my life which is full-time in the sides of disappointment. Only two-meter fibre rope at a cheap rate is needed for that letting it carve my heart day by day.

At the last moment when my neck reached the brinks of the ropes, I heard the ringtone. She is calling me! it had taken many long after chanting with her.

After a long, my beloved mother, an infinity of love, care, trust, respect, understanding and a universe of inspiration, aspirations, hope and happiness is calling me. Full of joy I jumped and plucked the phone from the table. She is also scolding me like others, “why are you not calling me? where are you living all these days? How many days have without seeing you, dear?..

Once again, my eyedrops flew out. But this time it is changed. It was not salty but sweet. And I whispered, “the friend in need is the friend indeed”.