My Sats & Suns have become
Two- and - a half decades
Her face still glistens,
Never yearned for a better friend, but there,
She still laughs & listens
( An obit written in 1989 for Jessy, revised a bit now)
It is not with any regret or longing that I deplore my present network of being friendless. Friends,as they exist are acquaintances today, none like her. It is better that way. No, I have not turned a recluse but when one had been showered with a lot of attention and care by one friend, she is missed now and always. Then one gets entwined gradually with one particular train of thought that, had Jessy been there, it would have been different.
Unassuming smile lost.
The tall, lean, thirty something Jessy kept hovering around me through thick and thin during those decisive years. She counselled , convinced and cajoled me to venture/avoid all major decisions in life. Then one fine day she just paled into insignificance called ‘death’.
Jacintha (Jessy) was born a premature baby with a congenital heart ailment that affected her pulmonary functions. It was predicted by her doctor. She craved for a house near the airport in Mumbai. The doors of which were always flung open for her siblings. They were frequent fliers to the Gulf countries, returned to Mangalore via Mumbai. Jessy was a moral support to them being the eldest.
Her demeanour just flipped from a patient to a reveller and the house would get filled with peals of laughter. Jessy ‘gang’ spoke Konkani that sounded nasal but was laced with screeching expressions…kaslay vaslay etc. I wondered from where she derived such energy in their company.
The moment anybody suggested marriage she would laugh about a Japanese boyfriend, though Indian who had forgotten his way to India. Ha! then a guffaw followed that led to contagious laughter from all directions.
Movie tickets rained..
Those days for young women ‘going to the movies’ was a hobby that gained momentum even after college days. Once we secured jobs , the choice , quality and quantity differed. In my case it was always a no-no due to domestic responsibilities.
Jessy was a colleague hailed from Udyavara (N.Karnataka), without her I couldn’t dream of going for a movie every weekend after which she would visit us to spend time with me , dad and brother at Malad. She longed for home made food as she lived in a working women’s hostel so we took charge of her on some weekends.
On Saturday afternoons very discreetly she would book tickets for the show, as office worked only half the day on Saturdays. She booked three tickets for me and another female friend.
I have angrily pounced on her on many an occasion for compelling me to go with her as I was busier than her in office. She would sulk at first and soon grin to pacify me.
Her departure to Mangalore left us (1988) dazed, when one morning the same year she left this earth from a hospital bed (Manipal). Her signature --- a crisply ironed pair of jeans and kurta, a grin and that Ladies’ Seiko wrist watch that I treasure till date. But the wrist is missing. It’s 2016 Jessy, you are still remembered.