It is past eleven thirty at night and i have just finished reading,Swami and Friends by RK Narayan.I have read it umpteen number of times before but it occurred to me to now that the last time i had read the classic which Grahame Green had so fondly described as 'one in ten thousand', was over a decade ago. Ten-twelve years ago, the work had left such an indelible impact upon my young and ridiculously innocent mind that I could never help getting lachrymose everytime i read or mulled over the scene in the last chapter in which Swami, the protagonist goes to the railway station at dawn to bid adieu to his best friend and idol, Rajam who is about to leave the town of Malgudi forever. Swami is overwhelmed with utter despondency at the thought that never again shall he get to see or be with Rajam again but the latter, in sharp contrast, is unfazed and even nonchalant to the plight of his friend. In the end, he deigns to accept a parting gift from Swami and even though he exchanges no words with the crest-fallen hero, the latter is hopeful that perhaps Rajam has forgiven him for his mistake...
The story of Swami and Friends with its simple, unassuming narration never failed to make me yearn for a friend like Swami or to entrench my view that true camaraderie is greatest of possessions in the whole, wide world. But these were my feelings years ago, when i was not yet capable of critical analysis of literaray texts, when i did not comprehend symbolism and its role in shaping the characters of the novel. I did not then know that the playground of the Albert Mission school was a microcosm of the colonial Indian society nor did i realise that how idyllic the life of Swami was, replete with innumerable heartbreaks and acts of revolution and bravado.
When i began to read the book again three days ago, I averred cynically, "Try to use your critical faculties in interpreting the droll antics of the ten years old Swami and you will not have to reach out for your handkerchief." But, here i am on the verge of tears again, having made a very unexpected kind of discovery. It, the book, enlightened me that why we-I, atleast-always seek to cherish friendships is not because in this ego-driven, treacherous world, it is wonderful to know people who wont unleash their egos or treachery on you but because-and my cynical self blanched at this discovery-friendship inspires us to be noble!
Swami had foibles galore yet his devotion and love for Rajam was the source of his salavation, enabling him to overcome his apprehensions and meet him; Rajam inspired him to be noble. What would you call me if i said that i desire to feel the same way for my friends? A maudlin fool, perhaps. Or a pretentious wastrel. But never mind those adjectives and nouns, i still want to feel that way. Thanks Swami!
