“ishan, how do you know that you are depressed?” imran looked at me, through strands of his overgrown mushroom-cut hair.
i looked at him with a shrug, “i don’t know, maybe it’s when you don’t want to wake up in the morning?”
“no shit! i wake up every day at 6 am in the morning, how can i ever be depressed?” he said, with his regular cheerful laugh.
he pulled his earphones from the table and just as he was about to put it on, i said, “you know what my granddad used to say?”
slightly annoyed, he looked at me. “what?”
“he used to say that in life you lose a lot of things. you lose money, you lose your friends, you also lose your family, but there’s one thing that you never lose- your knowledge and education”
“aaah,” he said in annoyance, “that is false. why do i forget things during my exam then. tell him that he’s a dumbass.” and then he laughed the same laugh with a hint of mischief in his eyes.
in my mind i wanted to tell him chutiya but he probably knew that.