Amolkanti ar roddur

way back in school I had once recited a poem where a certain Amolkanti wanted to be roddur.the feeling fascinated me so much that i couldnt get over it for long.even now,after so many years i remember those few lines although the actual event has escaped my memory.I remember how i would ask maa if she knew Amol and whether I stood a chance to be like him.Sometimes,I would even stay up all night contemplating Amol's fate till the morning breeze lulled me to sleep.And although life then didn't have a dearth of distractions,uncannily,Amolkanti and his roddur stayed on.He would come visiting me in lazy afternoons when the sunshine strained through palm leaves to conjure pretty motifs on the mosaic.I would lie sprawled on the baranda talking immaculately about all that captured my fancy while Amol listened on.He was a good listener.He would hear me out patiently,never flinching for a moment and when time came he tucked roddur inside his backpack and off he would go,drowning my baranda in plunging darkness.

Some months later,Amol suddenly stopped visiting.Roddur still came to my baranda but somehow it didn't feel same.Maa said he probably got tired of my stories.My rendezvous with Amol thus ended abruptly.The stories would well up inside me for now,there was none to tell them to.I never again chanced upon another listener who would match Amol's standard.

And suddenly today I'm missing my friend all over again.I still don't know how Amol became roddur.Or,if he at all did.

I wish I could become roddur someday...