Soul Vacation

Bless this man I call my friend and the excited giggle, jiggle, wiggle, as he watches me cross the street.  It's been five years since we've seen each other, and clapped hands twice.  We do that now like school children on the first day of a vacation.  And hug tight enough to make passersby stare and walk bemusedly by.  We do the reunion dance, incoherent joy in our hearts, drunken shuffle in our feet.

When we separate we stare at each other.  Searching for signs of the befriended boy, in the men we see staring back at us.  We walk to a great Latin American restaurant called Floro De Maya up on Eighty Third and Amsterdam.  We saw "It's good to see you,  man", at least five times before we reach.  We reach out and clap shoulders and rub backs as if making sure this isn't a dream.  How many friends do we have that can make us feel like this?

Oh Goddess, bless this food, and this wine, and the smile on our waiter's face, as listens to our jumbled, playful speech.  We learn the origins of all the new wrinkles and every new crack in our hearts as we eat.  I eat what they call Half a Chicken, and every bite makes a believer out of me.  And I thought of you darling, I thought of bringing you hear on a cold New York night, cuddled up in a taxi.  But it's a passing thought.  Because tonight is about old friends.  Tonight is about feeling like the boys we were when we met each other for the first time.  Remembering our hopes and our grand and silly dreams.  Dreams that we never gave up on.  Dreams we continue to achieve.  I look at him and see a fellow dreamer, that may have grown wearied at times, and raised his head to the sky and felt an emptiness looking back at him, as often as me.  But here we sit, laughing, rejoicing, toasting to the undying of our Light.  Bless this city upon this night, and the seven glasses of single malt whiskey we are about to drink.  Each.

We linger over dinner, no where else we'd rather be.  Who knows when I'll see you again? he says.  Just before planning a trip to come and see me in India.  And even if he never makes it, even if it's another decade before we manage to meet.  I'll remember this night and the joy I was able to give this man with the very sight of me.  How many friends do any of us have that can make us feel like this?  Oh bless us all Goddess with the gift of such friendships.

After dinner we walk down Broadway.  Shuttling stories back and forth.  And laughing at them all, with wonder, with concern, often spitting up the coffee we're sipping.  We walk like brothers, two men who couldn't look more unlike each other.  How did we ever deserve this?

Bless our tired, cracked, wearied hearts, and all the lessons they've learned the hard way.  Because despite the pain and the worry, and the heartache, joy returns to them as swiftly as the sight of an old friend.  It crashes against us, like a happy surf against the beach.

Boris, Bharat, Diony, Justin, Rahul, Sahil and Stuart.  I don't know if you'll ever read this.  But I love you all.  With a ferocity that I only ever feel, when your arms wrap around me.  Thank you for making this one of the greatest months of my life.

And I'm only halfway bloody through!!!!