RC

Death is weird. Its binary, one moment you are there, spreading love or hate, inspiration or pessimism, laughter or tears and the next you are not.

Today a dear friend passed away, and everything that was between us, is now just with me. I’m sad, and angry at the tears which never comes.

We had a running bet for Australian Open. He was a die hard fan of Federer and said Federer is going to win the Australian Open, while I supported Murray. And for 10 to 1 odd, he said a new player with a tennis rank lower than 3 will win, and I said No. A bottle of whiskey was at stake.

Djokovic won the championship, so neither of us won the 1st bet, and I won the second bet (Djokovic was and still is as I write ranked 1 in Tennis). The last thing he pinged me was – “I guess net net I owe you a bottle of whiskey”. Yes you owe me a whiskey, damn it, come back and give it to me, so we can drink once more, and talk about tennis, formula 1, the world, politics, all your insane ideas, about women, play risk, get stoned in the car, eat jalebis, smoke cigarettes, go to Nandi Hills or anything you want to do.

Oh RC, I miss you.

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