Galaxy Roy and my Sainik memories

Birkarnelzelzit Thiyam *

This very heart that listens to you, might be very ignorant at times when it’s messaged with fear. Life is never a past tense nor a future tense, it’s a never ending present tense. I have always been talking to my readers every Monday, let me tell you a story today.

Friends are never just from the front door. Let me introduce to you my best friend, “Galaxy Roy.”

I saw him for the first time in July 11, 2008 on the first day of my school in Sainik School Imphal.

He was the smart guy, the chosen one of the class, good in all things Sainik School’s definition of what good is.

First, I wanted to be like him because of his smartness, but every-time the seniors or the teachers gave him the responsibility to write names down for indiscipline actors in the class,

I was always on his tip.

So, funny but heavenly, one day during the games period, I remember even this day, we were stopped by one of the seniors and told to try the boxing game.

I saw Galaxy being called in, holy God! I raised my hand and walked in.

I beat him so badly; he was blue-black after 2 minutes or so. I felt so relieved after that. That was the start of our friendship, we became close after that.

Before I forget, let me tell you what happened during the class 7 period, he invented a very principal called, “time-management” with my cousin Bhaktaraj.

Where he fully dressed himself with tie for the next day, and goes to bed thinking that will save his time from rushing before the morning breakfast. How much will you rate out of 10 for his stupidity?

Growing in residential military schools are something of different flavour, every moment was a crunch of an everlasting memory.

This was not even a pinch of the memory, one of the best that happened was, one night we were so bored of eating the same seven different meals of the week, we were planning for cooking something of our own.

This was during our class 10 period, we stole some utensils from the mess and waited for the clock to strike the mid-night. To not forget, Nawaz Sharif was in charge of all, he was the Gordon Ramsey of my housemates.

He broke that mid-night with the warm smell of fried onion next to the septic-tank, what a smell! We were cooking with the toilet steel bucket, that was just another flavour to our chicken.

After everything was done, we cut and lay out the regular plastic bags to pour the rice all over and the chicken on top. Oh! The rush, the flavour, the energy, we were no less from those in the railway stations of Bihar.

And, something but something broke the silence, the Hitler warden came for his night rounds, trust me – the speed I had in wrapping up the plastic and rushing to the room was no less than a trained monkey.

I hold up, I rushed and I hid under the blanket. I was sleeping with a bag of rice and chicken curry.

Galaxy woke up right at that moment when the Hitler was on his round. “Manam C d haonihey,” galaxy said it out loud.

I was dead, I was shaking with the rice and chicken, or it seemed like I was having my first weeding night with the bag of rice. Luckily, for some reasonless reasons, he didn’t hear us. After he left, all the monkeys came back and finished the bananas.

This are the memories I have with these idiots, we all have childhood friends, they are the purest because they saw your journey, they saw you grow.

Be with those who accepts you for who you are, they will make the more of you to be you, they will keep watering you to be yourself.