I visited New York again a couple of summers later, this time with both of my parents. Kavi brought me to an Indian place for lunch on Murray Hill (he informed me it’s actually Curry Hill), and then we went to peruse Strand Book Store. I was holding a pile of books that I wanted to buy when I got a phone call from an unknown number. The news: you’re accepted to medical school. I was floored.

(Slightly pertinent background here: I had applied to medical school because it was ~the plan~ and my father’s dream for me, but I didn’t think it was the career I wanted, and after not hearing back from schools for so long, I assumed I conveniently didn’t get in)

And there was Kavi. After making sure nothing tragic had happened, he calmed me down and helped me think rationally. We discussed options, the gravity of the decision, and ultimately how to tell my parents that I wasn’t going to accept the offer. This decision was one of those forks in the road of life, and Kavi helped me navigate through it.

On the way out of Strand, I had to pare down my book selections. I put back a copy of Salman Rushdie’s Midnight’s Children – “Oh of course the brown man’s the first to go.”

We shared a circle of friends, but Kavi and I really knew each other exclusively in the context of a $20 bet and one unbelievable Frank Tyree grab. (The one and only monetary bet I will ever make!) The summers afterward, when he’d come home from school, we’d hang out here and there in groups.

Then, I went along with my dad on a business trip of his to New York. I’d never been, my dad was busy in conferences all day, and he’s not exactly the type to go out for drinks. So I reached out to the one person I knew in the city, and even though we arguably weren’t close, he responded in quintessential Kavi Shekhar Pandey fashion. He took me to Caroline’s for my first comedy show (Michael Che!!!), we got dinner? drinks? (the details are hazy), and ended the night at Dave and Buster’s in Times Square. We killllllllled the trivia game just to rack up tix, and ended up getting my bro an NYC souvenir pair of D&B’s boxers – size XXXL.

I visited Kavi a few other times in New York. Every time, without fail, at the end of the night he’d refuse to let me take the subway home, and instead would either accompany me all the way to my hotel, or put me in a prepaid cab. He always took impeccable care of his friends.