"My Shubhchintak Friend"
✍️ Dr. Mukesh Aseemit
You might say — "Aren’t all friends supposed to be well-wishers anyway? Then why call someone a ‘shubhchintak mitra’ separately?"
Well, dear sir, that's exactly where the real pain begins.
Ordinary friends are just friends.
But this gentleman has self-proclaimed himself to be the sole crisis manager and messiah of my life!
Technically speaking, a shubhchintak can be anyone — a relative, a neighbor, or even a passing stranger who unknowingly does you a good turn.
But for my friend, being just a ‘friend’ feels like an unforgivable insult.
He firmly believes that if he hadn't diligently fulfilled his “shubh-chintan duty” day and night, all the shubh in my life would have been long dead and buried.
Let me elaborate a little more...
Whenever I dare to think a shubh thought, his inner thermometer of anxiety explodes with a pop!
Each step I climb towards success spikes his emotional blood pressure fourfold — as if my rise is directly connected to his hypertension!
They say friends are like mirrors — you can see your real face in them.
But in his mirror, only my face shows — never his own.
One side of his mirror is all glossy, and the other side... well, it’s been painted pitch black.
All you’ll see is your own reflection shining bright — you’ll think, "Wow! What a face I have!"
Meanwhile, his own face remains conveniently hidden behind that wall of soot — never to be seen!
Outwardly, he drapes himself in a sari of politeness and maintains an elegant silence.
But behind the scenes?
He leaves behind sparks of concern so fierce that the news races its way to my ears without a single missed heartbeat.
Sure, the kurta of friendship is stitched well — but there are plenty of tears and rips here and there.
And wearing it is a compulsion too — because frankly, there’s no better outfit available in the wardrobe!
Now, speaking of his profession, dear bhai-saab has completed his PhD in the Friendship Expansion Scheme.
He’s a master at catching new friends and preparing elaborate historical records to turn old friends into sworn enemies.
His networking skills?
Well, LinkedIn is two steps behind him — while LinkedIn builds connections, he specializes in contradictions.
Like an investigative journalist, he scouts the shores of my heart —
just like imperial traders used to ‘trade’ only to end up colonizing whole nations.
The only difference being —
he isn’t after trade...
he's after a total conquest of the emotional geography!
If he ever smiles and hands you a rose, trust me —
he’s carrying a wholesale stock of thorns hidden right in his pocket.
Sure, the roses are for your hand — but the thorns are for carpeting your path ahead.
Who else could master this art, if not him!
Some people unfairly call him a do-muhā sānp — a two-headed snake.
But I say — oh no, he's proudly a single-headed creature —
he just keeps swapping his duty shifts!
In the morning, he’s Vighnakarta (the creator of obstacles),
by evening, he transforms into Vighnaharta (the remover of obstacles)!
And now, his most unique talent —
he’s into Friendship Farming.
He uses a potent fertilizer mix — envy, rumors, and a twisted, syrupy smile.
His friendship vine blooms in every season — complete with thorns!
Every time I begin considering someone as a new friend,
he swiftly gets them registered at the Registrar of Enemies under my name.
Earlier, friendships were real —
friends stood shoulder to shoulder in sorrow,
they didn’t show their backs.
But now, thanks to such shubhchintak mitras,
their backs have simply gone missing!
Friends and foes have now become two sides of the same coin —
If the coin's in your pocket, he's your friend;
the moment it slips into someone else's, boom — he’s your enemy!
And I can proudly declare —
my friend is a living, breathing diplomatic institution all by himself.
A perfect "Two-in-One" —
both friend and foe!
At this rate, we'll soon have to redefine ‘friendship’ as:
"A friend is someone who feels injured by your success and throws a party at your downfall."
If you too have a few such shubhchintak mitras lurking around,
then my dear friend, take good care of yourself!
Why on earth should your shubh be used to light their funeral pyres of worry while they’re still alive?
u
