A friendship sealed with solidarity
About a lifelong friendship built on vulnerability
My friend Rohan walked into the class, holding a paper. Back in the day, with no P.A. systems, school notices were carried by a student chosen by the principal to each classroom: our teacher, Bro. Felix interrupted the class to glance at the notice while Rohan stood beside him. The students waited until Bro. Felix to read the notice aloud to the class. Pin-drop silence.
Now, Bro. Felix was a unique character. He had a bad reputation among the students. The schoolboys were terrified of him in my junior school. Unfortunately for us, he was also our class teacher in eighth grade. Bro. Felix had a temper that could easily be ignited. He was a bully. He punished students for talking, for making the slightest noise, like a slow desk movement. If you got low marks, you were destined for punishment. He hit students on their cheeks. He beat them on their palms with a long cane or a foot ruler.
Earlier that day, he expelled my friend Rohan from the class for coming late. Rohan was directed to stand outside the class in the passageway in view of everyone passing. It was Bro Felix’s way of publicly shaming his students.
The director of the school, Bro. Cassian was unlike Bro. Felix. He knew the art of mingling with students. Bro. Cassian coached the junior soccer team. Rohan was that team’s captain. Bro. Cassian saw Rohan standing in the passageway and gave Rohan the job of conveying the notice to every class — a lesser and more humane punishment.
Now, poor Rohan was standing next to this monster of Bro. Felix. Rohan wished he could quickly move to the next class with the notice. Then unexpectedly, Bro. Felix asked Rohan to read it aloud to the class. Bro. Felix did not like Rohan being given a lesser punishment by Bro. Cassian, in place of his.
Rohan was hesitant at first but started to read. Rohan was nervous standing next to a determined bully with control over him. Words did not come out of Rohan’s mouth. Rohan started strutting. He tried to read again and again. Bro. Felix was watching him closely, making it worse for Rohan. I could see Rohan’s difficulty and embarrassment. The more he tried, the more he strutted. Bro. Felix was continually staring at him, not taking his eyes off, determined to destroy Rohan. Rohan could not read anymore. He kept on strutting. Bro. Felix was enjoying this.
Then, the boys in the class started laughing at Rohan. Bro. Felix did not do anything to stop the boys’ laughter, instead kept on staring at him. I could see from Rohan’s face his embarrassment and shame. The young boys' reaction was instantaneous and innocent.
I did not laugh. Instead, I was angry with Bro Felix and my classmates. My friend, Rohan, did not deserve that humiliation. I was furious. I felt my friend’s pain.
That incident marked my friendship with Rohan.
We both grew up together, from age five, in the same school, same class, and same teachers. We played together. We received Catholic communion together. We both had come a long way in our friendship. We had a set of common friends. We liked each other. In grade five, we faced a monster of a teacher. That is a story; you can read it another time by clicking here.
Nobody in school dared to pick a fight with any boy in our class, knowing that brave Rohan would come to their defence. Rohan had a reputation as a tough boy who stood against injustice. He stood for fairness.
That incident of humiliation was when we were thirteen years old. It marked a transformation of my relationship with Rohan. He was humiliated in front of the class for no fault. I saw my friend for his vulnerability. And I could not help him that day. Nobody could. Nobody could stand up to Bro. Felix.
At the end of that year, I left junior school, moved schools, and joined a high school in Colombo.
After a two-year lapse, Rohan came to my new school to watch a soccer match between our two schools. I was happy to see my friend again. We both were now fifteen years old, in our mid-teens and taller. We sat at a corner of the sports ground, and Rohan put his arm around me. We chatted as if nothing had changed.
That was the last I saw Rohan for a while. Six years later, I left Sri Lanka for good. Back in the day, with no internet, keeping in touch with your friends was impossible.
It was a long, long gap.
After thirty-five years, we met again through Lakshman, another classmate. On hearing that I was in Sri Lanka, Rohan came to see me.
It was a joy to see him again after so long. We both were now in our middle years and fathers to teenage kids of our own. Lots of water had flown under the bridge. By then, I lived in Australia, a father to four kids. Rohan was living with his family and two kids in a remote town in Sri Lanka.
Within a fortnight, Rohan wrote to me on my return to Sydney. It was a long, long letter, five pages. He wrote about all his life experiences and events during our gap years. He sent photos of his family. It was a challenge reading his letter, penned in Sinhala, my first language, which I had become unfamiliar with, having lived out of Sri Lanka.
Since then, we kept in touch with each other regularly. Fearless Rohan was now a social activist and a clear thinker. We found that we both have many common interests. We had become readers and connoisseurs of knowledge in the intervening years.
From then, every time I visited Sri Lanka, I met Rohan. I stayed with him for a few days in his home in that remote town where he lived. After that, Rohan visited me a few times in Australia, staying with me.
Our lives have had many trajectories, some quite different and some similar. It is a joy to exchange our social justice views and liberal and reformist ideas with my progressivist friend, Rohan.
It is a friendship that is now well over sixty years old. It was sealed on the day, Rohan was humiliated, his most vulnerable moment when we both were thirteen years old. I could not help him then.
Now let me describe seven habits of lifelong friendship. Rohan ticks all of the seven boxes.
1. They show up for each other when it matters most.
2. They plan for transitions — and keep talking once they happen.
3. They remember things happening in each other’s lives, big and small.
4. They can discuss issues in their relationship honestly and maturely.
5. They’re vulnerable to each other.
6. They make time for quick catch-ups and longer get-togethers.
7. But they also give each other grace if they go a while without talking.
Our friendship has lasted a lifetime and will last for the rest of our lives.
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