The difference

In most of the Universes, Navruz leads a simple life of an underachiever. In the ones where he meets and befriends Max, he quickly fades away from the latter's life, along with the connection. Sure, they had fun times, but all in all, they didn't become real friends because Max never took out that treasured camera only to hit the cabinet door with it. Max would never have that shift in paradigm, and they would then just slowly turn into former acquaintances.

And why that would make the difference?

Well, because of this.

~~~~~~~~~~

Several days passed since the last booze fest, and Navruz again returned to his usual routine of going to his "beloved" university to fill a random seat in the assigned auditoriums, because, well, the second semester of his senior year had already begun. He didn't actively hate the university life or love it, he was just indifferent. He felt like it was a kindergarten for adults, or teenagers still. He fondly remembered the time when everyone was enthusiastic in the freshman year, trying their best at presentations and extracurricular activities. But yeah, that enthusiasm did a nosedive at the start of sophomore, much less senior year.

House-subway-university-subway-house was his movements across the urban map, and it was occasionally house-subway-university-subway-supermarket-house in case heeded to refill his food reserves. That was five times a week, and the other two last days he spent on recreation: watching movies, planning his photo outings, drawing scenes and writing short stories. Living at the heart of a big city amidst the ubiquitous car and construction noise, in many aspects, his life was that of a recluse scholar, well.... minus good systematic education, diligence and absence of the Internet.

Returning home after a long exhausting day, he plumped on his bed face down. Only after 30 minutes did he remind himself to take off all that sweaty clothing that he had worn the whole day. He reluctantly overturned his body, and now lying on his back, he bent his knees while lifting his legs, and before he could finish the set of actions, he already started to push his pants down without even unzipping them. Even though it was tight because he was too lazy to unzip, he still forcefully took the pants off. They went flying somewhere close to the wardrobe, followed by socks but not by the white shirt. Well, Navruz might be lazy, but not lazy to a point where he would unnecessarily crumple his only proper white shirt.

After disposing of the garments, he absentmindedly faced the ceiling. He had some plans about it before, like to write some random scribbles to make the ceiling alive with its own unique characteristics. It would at least make it less bland, but the word "plan" in Navruz' vocabulary meant - a thought that would probably never bear its own fruit. The dude had too much inertia in him, so most of the time, he needed a strong external force to make him move.

After realizing that he indefinitely put off another one of his grandiose plans, he shifted his gaze somewhere else, to the camera cabinet to be precise. Nothing on that cabinet revealed the traces of the incident that happened several days prior. Well, actually there was really nothing there to begin with. Max didn't really break or even scratch anything as both the camera and the cabinet door were a Soviet kind of sturdy - yeah, somewhat ugly, but still very sturdy. So, the dude had a moment of great relief after carefully checking the camera. Max was relieved as well, and so they concluded that evening's beer degustation ceremony on a pleasant note.

However, that incident did set off a ripple that would in time turn into waves, then into tsunamis, then probably into something even greater.

Maxim, after leaving Navruz' flat, never stopping thinking about the change that happened inside of him, and walking with his unfocused gaze passing through the strangers on the streets, he finally reached his home. After reflexively doing his routine of whenever he gets home, he also slumped on his bed, but this time in a more graceful fashion, and not heads down. In his mind, a plan started to brew, especially after remembering all the little nuggets he could find in his head about his now true friend.

What he remembered was how good Navruz was at storytelling, how good he was at infecting others with his passion, how good he was at flailing his hands in an exaggerated manner, well, the latter probably wasn't anything to brag about. But even that mannerism was idiosyncratic to Navruz. Max also remembered those wonderful shots and the development room.

One after another, pieces of the puzzle started to come about orderly arranging themselves in a pattern, and then like a boom, after a blinding flash, a picture became clear in Maxim's mind. He jumped off his bed, took out his slick Nokia 6300 and started to make some calls. One of his family members could hear Max' enthusiastic voice coming through the crevice of the doorlock. Max had never been the one to talk loudly and long on the phone in the house, so his mother Charos found herself wondering, what might've caused her otherwise tightlipped son, to go on such an outburst.

And now we return to our important dude who still lay on his bed, silently looking at his cabinet with his hands placed on the back of his head. Only he had stopped thinking about the camera as he heard his Nokia 1100 ring with the most popular tune there was at that era "Dili-Dong-Ding, Dili-Dong-Ding, Dili-Dong-Dong-Diiing". While most of the tunes could quickly wear off the sense of novelty, that legendary Nokia tune on the other hand never made you tired of it, as you could always reinterpret that simple Dili, that Dong, and that Ding, in a new way. Navruz had a habit of listening to a minimum of two cycles of ringing before answering the call, but this time he felt like answering immediately.

"The phone call receiver is immune to harassment and threats, also any kind of blackmail. He is not a pizza delivery service, nor he is a pimp. Being informed of the vital information, please kindly proceed with the original purpose of your call, Dude or Dudy." Looking at the number, of course our Navruz knew that it was his buddy calling him, so that enabled a lot of pre-made bullshit to come forth.

But Max had no desire to support the bullshit thread, so he stated what he needed to state instead, "Navruz, do you remember Ibrahim, the guy from the Ministry of Culture, the one that I introduced to you who-knows-when? So I made some inquires and guess what? He told me of an opportunity of filming a commercial for the newly designed air conditioner by a local electronics company."

Curious of what's going but also a bit puzzled, Navruz broke the pause, "Sooo?"

Max continued with a surprising amount of enthusiasm, "What "Sooo?", you can compete for the tender, the deadline for participating is January 8, so it's the day after tomorrow. As for the presentation day, it should be two days after the deadline, on January 10."

Navruz couldn't connect the dotes. What that opportunity had to do with him, and why he should compete for the tender?

As if sensing his friend's confusion, Max calmed down a bit, and with unhurried pace, he started to persuade the dude, "Tell me, don't you want to realize your potential? Don't you want to be involved in the circle of industry professionals, jumping from one project to another, be a part of creative process?" Then came a long pause, after which Max continued with more emphasis, "Don't you want to prove to the world that nobody can write off your existence. Sure, it doesn't help that you were born in the most average country on this stupid Earth, and it doesn't help that you have no have relatives nor any background to rely on. But hey, if you continue sitting on your ass preaching that shitty Zen of yours about rational laziness or whatnot, then you will never get to see things there are to see and never get to feel what there is to feel in real life. Everything will just pass by you"

This rant came like an avalanche, devouring the minds and attention of both Max and Navruz. They stood there, each on their end of the phone, covered by a thick layer of self-reflection, "Listen Navruz, I'm not telling it only to you, but also to myself. Remember what you said about university being a kindergarten for adults, let's just then leave it for the elementary school of life. Let's not get complacent with how the things stand now. Let's at least do something with our lives. I had my own share, and you had your own. We both enjoyed being reclusive, so let's now enjoy some other things as well. After we have enough of new experiences, we will judge whether it was worth trying or not. I'm hanging up now. The relevant info can be found on news portals and don't call me for anything other than for news of your participation, bye."

To say that Navruz was shocked was to say nothing. He was simply astounded at how many words there were in that passionate speech. He was confident about his familiarity with Max, but the latter either went through transformation or just hid this side of his well, and now Navruz would be seeing his friend in the new light from that very moment.

If before, it was Max who had a shift in paradigm, now it was Navruz who was undergoing a similar process. Navruz was so entrenched in his old ways of living that the speech by Max hardly resonated with him, but giving the idea, that seed of possibility more and more thought, it started to slowly take its root inside his mind. Here, the fragile looking yet still tenacious shoot started to breathe with vitality, and when the shoot became a sapling, then a full-grown tree, it announced to the world that Navruz Shavkatovich Adamov was now a changed man!

A CHANGED MAN THAT CAME TO CHANGE THE WORLD! .... or at least a part of it .... well, appearing on a local news report would also be good .... em, forget about the local news report, just holding expensive camera equipment in his hands would already be good enough, .... maybe he is asking too much, so just filling his stomach with some steamy dumplings is more than he really deserves. Yep, that's about it.