When I don’t like someone

“When I don’t like someone, I don’t like to see them ever again in my life. That’s how I am. That’s how I would ever be. That’s how everyone should be. How can people smile at each other knowing that they hate each other? I am not used to this culture.”

“Why do you have to be so stubborn? We are all human beings. Everyone makes mistakes. You make mistakes. I make mistakes. What’s the point in being in denial about it?”

***

I must be seven or eight years old then. I still remember this conversation with dad.

“Dad, whom do you like the most in this world?”

“Anbu uncle,” he said.

Anbu uncle is not his uncle. He is my uncle. That’s how dad used to talk about everyone with me. He would say uncle if they were uncle to me, he would say aunty if they were aunty to me, and so on. Anbu uncle is dad’s only brother. Younger brother.

“Will you do anything for him?”

“Yes.”

***

It was early morning. Like 7 o’clock. We were just waking up. Dad was in his usual chair reading his favorite newspaper held in his left hand, keeping the coffee cup in his right hand. Anbu uncle was standing in front of him wiping his face every now and then with the white towel he had.

“Get lost. I don’t want to see your face ever again,” dad shouted at Anbu uncle.

“I am telling you again. You keep making this mistake,” Anbu uncle tried to explain his reasons.

Dad was not in a mood to listen to him.

He screamed, “I said, get lost. I don’t want to listen to any of your stories.”

He abruptly stood up and went into the house. Anbu uncle left the place with his head down. Dad never met him again until grandma’s death.

“I will finish my rituals first. Let him go next. We are not doing it together. Period,” dad was extremely adamant about it. Some old people tried to talk him into it. But nobody succeeded. Everyone left the place humiliated and frustrated.

“I have never met an arrogant fellow like this in my life,” murmured an old man, who is dad’s godfather-like figure.

“Adamant idiot,” mumbled another old man, dad’s favorite uncle.

Finally, everything happened as dad wished. He finished his rituals with mom and us. We went out of the house. Only then were Anbu uncle and his family allowed inside to perform their rituals separately. It would have all been a combined ritual otherwise.

Mom was covering her mouth with her saree tip and weeping. Everyone knew it was not for grandma’s death she was crying so much.

***

My maternal side isn’t any better. My cousins Arul and Kani are like the ideal siblings – always fighting but can’t miss each other for even a minute. Every long vacation, either they would be in our house or we (my sister Kayal and I) would be in theirs.

Kanmani aunty would always say, “Look at them. That’s how siblings should be. Never has there been a day when he hasn’t hit you or you haven’t cried. Why do you Satans create so much scene?”

But Kayal and I were always jealous of Arul and Kani. They both know that. Aunty also knows that. We have tried to copy them. It never worked. Kayal is too nice to hit. Moreover, she is under pressure to be nice with me because she is the elder sister. Arul never seems to have or feel that pressure with Kani.

This summer vacation, when we went to their house, we could sense the difference right in the first minute. Aunty never told us anything about it. When Arul was in the living room, Kani would never come there and vice versa. For some reason, they stopped speaking with each other.

Kayal and I asked aunty about it. “Aunty, what happened? Why aren’t they speaking with each other?”

She just said, “You ask them only. Only after that has the house become calm.”

Kayal and I tried different techniques to make them friends again.

“Hey Arul, Kani is calling you.”

“Hey Kani, Arul is asking if you are game for a movie tomorrow.”

We got only a stare as the response.

Kayal tried this, “Shall we try Nagalapuram vs. Madurai carrom? I bet Madurai city can’t beat Nagalapuram village in this. What say?” 

Kayal and I represented Nagalapuram and Arul and Kani Madurai.

Arul said coldly, “Try something else.”

I got smart and said, “How about boys vs. girls? You shouldn’t have any problem with that. You don’t have to speak with each other.”

This suggestion didn’t even deserve his answer. He just shook his head with a bit of irritation and left the place. Both of us stopped trying these techniques with them from then on. After that, they were in our house, and we were in their house for many vacations. But we never saw them speak to each other again.

***

Selva and I studied together in the same school from first grade to twelfth grade. Some years we were in the same class and in others different classes though the same grade. Invariably during every recess and lunch break, either Selva would come running to my class or I would go to his during those years when we were in different classes. It’s because of this, I never made any friends outside of him. Neither did he.

Most evenings, within half an hour of reaching home, either he would be in my house, or I would be in his. Likewise, on the weekends and holidays. The first thing both of us would work towards was meeting each other, which would happen before 10am or so. When I played Cricket, he played Cricket. When he played Kabaddi, I played Kabaddi. When one of us didn’t like something, the other one also stopped liking that thing. In that small town, he was the only one to travel with me for that long. Everyone else joined in between or left in between. 

This happened during the summer vacation after the twelfth-grade exam. I don’t remember why it happened. It must be for something very silly. We stopped speaking with each other. The world turned upside down for me. I didn’t know what to do in the evenings, on the weekends and on long vacations when we didn’t go elsewhere. I am sure he would have gone through the same thing as well. But neither of us ever made an attempt to become friends again.

Arul asked me, “What happened to Selva? Missing in action for some time now!”

I wore a fake smile and told him, “Same thing that happened between you and Kani!”

He is a gentle-boy. He just said, “Oh!” and stopped speaking about Selva with me ever again. I know he met Selva many times after that. This is not Madurai. It’s a small town where you can never miss anyone even if you stay there for a few days. But he never talked about Selva with me again. I am sure he wouldn’t have spoken to him about me either. A guy with his own principles.

Mom asked me many times in different words: “What happened to Selva?”, “What happened with Selva?”, “Did you have a fight?”

I always ducked it with different answers and questions: “I don’t know”, “Ask him”, “What’s your problem?”

Then this day came. I had to give her a longer answer.

“You are getting married first. If it was him, he would have definitely invited you. I don’t think what you are doing is right. This is your last chance to mend your relationship. If you don’t do it now, you will never be able to fix it. I am your mom. I am telling you. You will regret your adamance. Don’t do this.”

“Thanks for your advice. But I don’t need it. No problem. I will face the consequences. You don’t have to worry about it.”

***

My goodness! Why did I meet him first on the first day of college? Just because he was the first one to meet there, he became my first friend in college only to become the worst enemy very quickly.

“Hi, my name is Kathir. Computer Science.”

“Nice meeting you. I am Computer Science too.”

“You are computer science? Hahaha,” he laughed like an idiot.

I should have started hating him from this minute. Unfortunately, I laughed with him then and said politely, “No no. I meant…”

I thought he was an outgoing guy, and I might like him. Unfortunately, he turned out to be an… leave it. Just thinking about him raises my blood pressure.

I don’t hate people for no reason. Just that some people do something annoying and get into that list while others are so annoying even when they don’t do anything specific. It could be because anything and everything they do is annoying. Kathir became one such fellow.

“Hey buddy! How are you?”

“How are you, my dear friend?”

“What’s up, dude?”

These are the different questions he has asked me with a lot of energy, and an infectious one at that, mostly in the café or on the playground or in a place where both of us are with our friends. The response he got was always a silent stare or a royal ignore. He is so shameless. I don’t think he ever felt humiliated by all that. If so, he wouldn’t have tried again.

One of those days in the café, Kannan asked me, “What did he do to you? Why do you keep doing this to him? Why don’t you just say ‘fine’ for namesake?”

I said, “I won’t. That’s me. If I don’t like someone, this is what they would get from me.”

“No, man. Life is short. Make it sweet. It’s not worth hating people like this.”

This is his usual style. He makes everything sound like a philosophy. So, nobody cares what he says. Hehe.

***

“I don’t want to talk to you. Don’t talk to me. Why didn’t you tell me then?”

I have never seen her this angry. It’s an unnecessary scene in front of so many people. This is the first ever fight I am getting into with her. I never thought this day would come this quickly. All the jokes I heard about Mars-Venus fights aren't as light as they portray them to be. No. I can’t handle this. This is not what I prepared all my life for.

“You sure? Don’t want to talk to me? You don’t know me well enough. I’ll give you 5 more minutes. Think about it and tell me. If you say ‘done’, it means it’s done. That’s it.”

She is crying. OMG. So much tears! Where does she get all these tears from? No, I can’t stand this.

I couldn’t resist myself from screaming, “Will you please stop creating a scene in front of everyone? What happened now?  What did I hide from you? You are making a mountain out of nothing. I can’t deal with this. Goodbye.”

Everyone around us is looking at us.

“I hate you. Get lost,” she screams.

“Thank you. I hate you too. You don’t know what I do when I start hating people. I will never see your face again. Bye.”

I walk away from there. She starts weeping more. I don’t care. I am done.

Three steps away. No, I am not done. I do care. I am an idiot. I go back to her, hold both her shoulders with both my hands and start begging her to forgive me. It’s not going to be easy. But I have to do this. I created this mess.

Wow! I did it. It’s easy! When I don’t like someone, no… it’s not the end of the world. I don’t have to hate them. I don’t have to end the relationship. I can still make it work. This is a different feeling. I like it. I like myself. Wow!