Comfort is where your memories are

I rewatch 'Jodha Akbar' for a lot of reasons, including the sheer splendour, the historical inaccuracy, and the eye candy (Hrithik AND Aishwarya), and also because every other monologue, dialogue, and scene brings back to my ears the voice of a beloved friend whom I lost on the cusp of adulthood.

A day before I turned 18, I lost a part of my soul — she knew all of my secrets, all of my aspirations, all of my dreams — and was left with an abyss in my heart. Friends since we both walked into Lower KG in the big school, she was always the more boisterous, more outgoing, more friendly, more popular, and better  in studies than me. I read, she didn't. But we found enough  common ground to bond, or maybe we liked each other best. And we had massive fights when we did fight.

She had a plan for her life when I didn't even have a "pl". I don't think I do even now. No "going with the flow" for her. 

We grew up together, same class, same section (for most part of our school life). She was a good artist, drew my science diagrams in class. I hated school. She made it okay.

Outside of school, in real life, we had other passions. One of them was watching obscure movies and TV shows, make up things and continue conversing about things happening there like they were real-life scenarios. And we went to the cinemas, too. Patriotic blockbusters for her, fun masala movies for me. And we watched 'Jodha Akbar' seated in the front row of a hall in an expensive multiplex.

And I have rewatched the movie infinite times (in the dial-up internet era, I once rewatched it on YouTube several times and ended up traumatising my father with the internet bill).

Rewatching 'Jodha Akbar' fills it with tart comments and wry humour from someone whose voice I used to hear every day but which has now faded amidst the constant cacophony of life. It takes me back to girlhood shenanigans and atrocious decision-taking skills. It takes me back to absolute no-nonsense takes on boys we liked. It takes me back to where life was terrible but tolerable because of one person.

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,

Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,

Silence the pianos and with muffled drum

Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

(Funeral Blues, W H Auden)