An Old Friend

(Fiction)

My old friend, Bhagwan, now lives in a basement.
No one knows for certain

whether he chose to live there or was forced to do so.
You probably don’t know who Bhagwan is. Let me tell you.

Bhagwan is my friend.
By the time I became capable of thought, he had already come into being.
That makes us about the same age.

We’ve journeyed a long way together.
We’ve witnessed history unfold side by side:
wars, rivers of blood, brother killing brother,
daughters dishonored before their fathers’ eyes.
We had dreamed of light—
of siding with truth, of ending hunger and poverty,
of making Earth a paradise.

But not a single one of those dreams come true.
Because Bhagwan retreated to the basement…
And I got busy chasing my petty desires.

Today, after many years, I saw Bhagwan again.
I recognized him instantly.
But he looked frail.
I couldn’t tell whether he had truly grown old
or whether it was just the darkness of the basement that made him seem so.

Seeing him suddenly before me, I was stunned.
“Bhagwan, where have you been?” I asked.
“Where did you disappear?
What are you doing down here in this basement?”

He didn’t respond.
I tried again.
“Don’t you recognize me? I’m Manu—your old friend, your companion.”

Without looking at me, Bhagwan said,
“How did you end up here?”

I explained,
“There was a storm outside. The world was falling apart.
I was running around in search of shelter,
and I found this cave-like basement.
Its door had been blown off by the wind, so I came in.”

He didn’t acknowledge what I said.
Still displeased, he muttered,
“Couldn't you find anywhere else to take refuge? You had to come here?”

“There was nowhere else safe,” I replied softly.
“So I came to you.”

“You’ve always come to me like this,” he said.
“Remember the first time? You came running to me, saying there was a flood.”

I was surprised by his memory.
“Yes, and so what?” I said. “Isn’t that what friends do?”

“When the storm ends, you’ll go back to your home,” he said coldly.
“You won’t even look back at me.”

His words made me uneasy—but I tried not to show it.
“This time will be different,” I promised.

He didn’t look at me.
He just chuckled,
“Oh really? And what exactly will be different this time?”

His laugh was laced with sarcasm.
Still, I answered calmly:
“I’ll keep coming back to you. I won’t leave you alone again.”

But Bhagwan kept ignoring me.
We sat in silence for a long time.
Neither of us spoke.
The darkness deepened, and we could no longer even see each other.

Finally, I broke the silence, repeating my promise:
“I’ll keep coming back. I won’t leave you alone.”

Bhagwan sighed, annoyed.
“You said the same thing last time. Don’t you remember?”

That stung. I lost my temper.
“Why do you always bring up the past when we meet?
I told you—I’ll come back, again and again!”

I fell silent.
Then after a pause, I said:
“Do you remember what you said?
You told me you’d never leave me.
So why are you hiding here in this cave-like basement?
Why aren’t you with me?”

He didn’t answer.

I quietly sat down in a corner.
For the rest of the night, Bhagwan never once looked my way.
I remained there, still and silent,
until the black cloak of night finally began to lift and the sky grew lighter.

I stood up to check the outside.
I tiptoed out of the cave.

The storm had passed…
But destruction was everywhere.

Before me stretched a long, endless road.
And beyond the distant mountains, the sun was rising.

I began to walk toward it.