South Indian Metal God

“I don’t wanna go.” Nikhil. “What??? Why don’t you wanna go?” We, in unison. “No. I mean I don’t feel like it.” Nikhil. “C’mon, don’t be a spoilsport, let’s go.” Me. And everyone else, in turn. September 2004. We were in Mumbai, participating in a “Battle of the Bands”. Just a few hours back we’d lost out to technically sound and better prepared bands. And so our friend was pissed.

Half an hour passed before his next outburst. Walking with his eyes fixed on the ground, he kept muttering stuff. Finally, after ample helpings of “Who needs friends like you…” and “…take me for granted”, endless swearing and a twenty minute walk to a pub, Nikhil decided he had had enough. He started marching back. Anurag, his elder brother, who had accompanied us on the trip, yelled at him as he walked away. Ten minutes later he was back. “I need directions.” We laughed really hard. That was the first and last I saw of his near-psychotic behavior, ever. As we sat in that pub, eight of us at a table for four, Nikhil joined us in our bid to out-sing Axl Rose on “Sweet Child of Mine”. He didn’t drink. He only started to a few months later...

Nikhil kept staring at the girls as I bombarded him with questions; about the music he liked, bands, musicians, etc. At times he took a “break” and patiently answered all my questions. After six months in a school I’d already started to hate, I’d finally found one person who shared the same passion as I. Music. He was a walking-talking “Rock-‘n’-Roll” dictionary. That was Annual Sports Day at school.

We hung out a lot during our school years. He would play the guitar and I would sing. After school Nikhil moved to a University, a good four hours’ drive away. Naturally all plans of forming a band went down the drain. I hated him for that back then. But he made me see a side to him which I hadn’t seen before; someone driven by priorities.

After his Mom took a job in another city, he would stay at my place whenever he came to town. His brother thought my parents were as good as his in-laws. My Mom loved him because he wasn’t fussy about food and was always tidy. We would stay up late to watch TV, listen to our favorite bands, or just discuss “life” in general and in depth. He is the only person I know who can fall asleep in ten seconds flat, if he wants to. He considers himself lucky.

When our band needed a second guitarist, he reluctantly stepped forward. But he was taking an active stance in everything very soon. He rarely practiced. Yet he led the way when it came to ultimate output. Some people called him a “Metal God”. He said he was a rebel. Unfortunately, to prove it, he once decided to wear onstage an outfit that seemed straight out of a 40’s Hollywood movie.

Nikhil always says “In life you must prioritize.” He used to skip trips back to town, often for months at a time, to keep up with readings and prepare for exams. He never exuded maturity. He chose to use it selectively. He was good at advice but he never imposed a decision on me.
Nikhil Rao used to call me “Munna” (“kid” in Hindi). He has a great sense of humor. Everyone said he got it from his Mom. When Nikhil was very young, his Dad passed away. He never spoke about it much. I never heard him complain about a difficult childhood. He was happy with whatever he had.

When I decided overnight to come to Canada, he was shocked, and bombarded me with all kinds of questions to find a justifiable reason. He couldn’t make it to town to see me off when I finally left. He had exams. He still writes long, weird and absurd e-mails which invariably leave a big smile on my face. He says he’s found new “in-laws”.

I never told him, but he was more than a best friend; he was very much like a second brother to me. There are only a few people in life who leave everlasting impressions. Nikhil is one such person in my life. I met the “Metal God” from South India on Annual Sports Day, January 2001.

Note: Anything said about you is never enough my friend.