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     Volume 4 Issue 45 | May 6, 2005 |

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The Wait

Imran H. Khan

To some, solitude is bliss, a silver lining in the stormy clouds. To others, it is a plague, a slow but sure death-sentence. How can a person survive without the hustle and bustle of life around them? Well, having broken my foot in a little footy-ball accident I got in a park, I got a crash course in 'Isolation 101', staying home alone and on one good foot too.

Though I really like the alone time I get at home after a long day, the thought of having to spend three whole weeks at home, and during my summer break, did enough to bring tears to my eyes. Unfortunate for me, this little notion occurred to me in the doctor's presence and he prescribed some 'painkillers' as precaution but they did little to ail my sensitive state of being.

Friends started to pour into my home as soon as they heard the breaking news. Ouch! Now, they knew that I was home alone at the moment and they all started to bring me little tit-bits to soothe me. I couldn't help but feel an air of Don Carleone, The Godfather. Since time is the best healer and I had plenty to spare, I had decided to watch The Godfather trilogy (again) and as people came to the 'Don' and pay respect and offer little tokens of friendship. Well, any attention is good attention when your only other form of entertainment comes via a satellite dish. It's amazing how one can look forward to visits from others; the craving only grows with every passing hour.

I thanked my stars that I had managed to pile up a little collection of personal DVDs and this was like a speck of light at the end of a long tunnel. As I went to my collection, happy at the insurance I had, I realised that I had watched all of them. So much for insurance! I next turned my attention to the telly. As I flicked from channel to channel, I came to a Wrestling match on Ten Sports. It was amazing how the whole wrestling world has conglomerated with the drama world and as Shakespeare puts it '…the world is a stage…" everyone was acting rather than fighting. I did not understand that there was a deep story involved with all the wrestlers and their rivals, almost like in comic books and the forces of bad would always cheat and betray, gaining the crowds' 'boos' while the good people would always keep their honour. Some people have their soaps like 'Kusum' or 'Jassi Jaisi Koi Nahi' but I had my wrestling and, as predictable as it might be, this was the gig for me.

Another platoon of friends reinforced my room and pretty soon it was like a party. Since I was immobile, my friends started to bring in things from the kitchen and did all my biddings. It was a time of pure ecstasy. I had to make the most of it before my foot got better and I was again at the receiving end of jeers and jokes. Nonetheless, it was nice to me thinking of getting better and returning to the game. Putting on my team's jersey always gave me a sense of pride and the belief that I could do anything, even back-heel inside my own d-box, which was unfortunate if the truth be known though the keeper really should have been looking at the ball and not the joggers at the park.

There is no 'i' in team as I had been taught in soccer and in the days that I was confined to my solitary recovery, I realised that 'solitude', 'loneliness' and 'isolation' all have a big 'i' in them. I was in for an even bigger lesson because the only thing that helped in passing my days was the 'i' in my friends. In that brief period, I understood that all walls could be climbed by that special ladder called friends.

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