He was my most beloved friend and my bitterest rival, my confidant and my betrayer, my sustainer and my dependent, and scariest of all, my equal or better.
He was born on 21st
November 1887, it was cold winter and we used to burn wood and coal to keep my mother's room warm. Everyday before my school, I used to visit
him once, give a kiss on his forehead and leave in hope that when someday he will grow up I won't be as lonely as I was. He grew up smart, skillful and intelligent, it was a priviledge watching him do those things everyday.
He soon become the apple of my parent's eye. I used to play with him and than fight with him, treating him equal even when he was 6 years younger. There were nights when we would keep on talking on the bed and none of us will sleep and than there were days when we will fight and not talk to each other.
But there was a bond unlike other, he was a sharer and open personality never seen in a kid of his age. He had the skills to make friends even with the toughest persons. It was a wonder how he was able to share all his toys with any child of his age.
I never knew we will be seperated or I would have told him atleast once that all the fights or tease I do is just envy, but from inside I love him so much. I never thought that the day will come when he will not be there and unfortunately we lost him on the dreadful day of 22nd Jul 1997. That was the day who made us think again, remember him and acknowledge the priviledge we had, to spent 10 years of our lives with an angel.
My father loved him so much that he try to remember him in his likes. He liked flowers, gardens and nature. It was very mature of a boy of his age to have these things as his liking instead of Guns and Cartoons. So my father took up his dream after his death and built up a Garden he could have gifted his son. And thats when Varun Smriti Udhyaan borned.
When someone you love becomes a memory, the memory becomes a treasure.
