I hated going to school to study.

​​

I loved going to school because I could see my friends.

​​

The real reason I would go to school was to meet my best friend, NK. I adored him because he was always there when I was in trouble or needed any help. Having a complicated and long name like KATHIRAVAN MUTHUSELVAM PETHI resulted in me being teased and bullied with nicknames ranging from kathi (sword), mutual (stupid) and petti (box) in several languages. It left me with a serious inferiority complex, stains of which still hang around.

​​

NK was lanky and always had a stern and tough look. When anyone tried to bully me, he would just walk up and look into the eyes of the bully. The message was clear-don’t mess with my friend.

​​

There were many qualities I admired in him, yet I could not figure out why he wouldn’t sit with our group of friends to have his lunch. At lunchtime, he would disappear with his sparkling steel lunch box and reappear just before the bell rang.

​​

Being a curious kid, one day I decided to follow him like Sherlock Holmes. I hid behind the giant arched stone pillars of our school so that he wouldn’t see me. He reached the back gate of the school and opened his lunch box and gave the three small idlis to a beggar in dirty and tattered clothes. The beggar smiled and gleefully gulped the idlis. NK spent some time talking to the beggar and walked back. He did this every single day till he passed out of school. Whenever I asked him, "NK, where did you go during lunchtime?", his stern look silenced me.

​​

We parted ways in school after our 10th standard ICSE exams. For 14 long years, I was not in touch with him. One day, he magically landed at my office. On seeing him, I exploded with joy. The old bonds and vibes rekindled unexplainable joy. We kept meeting frequently, and one evening, I took courage and asked him about the beggar. He smiled and said, "Let me tell you what happened."

​

This incident happened when we were in the 8th standard. It was a cold winter evening; the doorbell of my house rang. My mom opened the door and, to her shock, there was a beggar standing there in dirty and tattered clothes. He mumbled, "Can I speak to my friend NK?" I had not seen him for ten days, and I was anxious.” As I entered the scene, I was pleasantly surprised. I asked him to come in. He said, "Sorry NK, I was worried about you. I came to check if you are fine” He handed me a basket of shining red apples and was about to leave. Mom called him in and gave him a hot cup of tea, which he gladly drank. He left with the words, "NK, get well soon. Hope to see you in school soon."
 

On hearing this story, I choked. After a long silence, NK continued:​

Do you know the kind of trouble he had in finding my house?​

Do you know he spent his last paisa buying the apples for me?​

Do you know that he walked 15 kilometres to see me? 
 

To the world he may have been a beggar, but to me he was a kindhearted soul. Every afternoon, he would spend time listening to my problems at school and home without giving any advice or passing judgment. He was no beggar; he was an extraordinary human being who could be trusted, and he was Ram, my best friend.
 

In a world where friendship could mean wealth, connections, and influence, finding a true friend is like finding gold. If you are lucky to find one, nurture and treasure that friendship for life, because the best friends are the ones:

​

Who will stand by you when you are ditched, dumped and drowned.

Who will continue to stand by you until you rebound.