One can only hope he finds his peace while we take comfort in the knowledge of having a true friend and the therapeutic power of humour.
Sukanya Verma mourns the passing of Matthew Perry.
It's both a compliment and a curse when you cannot separate an actor from a character.
But when a guy has played another guy for 10 years and 236 episodes, they become so one with each other that even their facts feel like an extension of their fiction.
How do I separate Matthew Perry from Chandler Bing?
How do I address him in this piece?
My memories are of Chandler, but the legend embodying him is Matty -- that's what his friends called him.
Am I not one too?
The lines are somewhat blurred, but it's okay, the point is he was adored, so adored by me and millions like me.
Ever since I learned the shocking news of his passing, my default response has been to check on his friends -- Jennifer Aniston (Rachel), Courtney Cox (Monica), Lisa Kudrow (Phoebe), Matt Le Blanc (Joey) and David Schwimmer (Ross) (the actors released a joint statement two days later).
I hoped it would give me some sense of comfort and closure.
But there's an unsettling silence on each of their social media accounts. Maybe this is The One Where Could I *Be* More Devastated?
Emphasis was his drollest virtue.
Even his pals ribbed him about it, like the time when Ross jokes, 'The hills are alive with the sound OF music.'
The image of Chandler trying to stop his head from exploding as he cried, 'too many jokes' is a state of mind that never loses relevance in the ever absurd state of affairs.
There are things I learned from him.
Like using 'humour as a defence mechanism' every time I got nervous.
The man turned self-deprecating sarcasm into an art of sorts that pop culture is still reeling under but healed us in ways we didn't even realise.
You'd think he didn't miss a single chance to direct his snark at someone, but, more often than not, that someone was him. Stopping mid-way of what started out as pearls of wisdom to turn into peals of laughter -- If I were a guy... did I just say if I were a guy?
A sport even when in a complete state of embarrassment.
Like the time Monica picked him a pink bunny body suit to wear on a Halloween party only to be outdone by Ross's Spudnik and quip, 'Wow, I don't have the worst costume anymore.'
Or learn that the perfect tuxedo Rachel lent him belonged to Diane Keaton.
In Perry's easy warmth, the caustic acquired charm.
Over the course of 10 seasons, he grew up better than any of his friends.
He was always the romantic, the softie and a patient, dependable half to his hyper wife, offering to shell out most of his savings for her dream of a lavish wedding or remembering to build a special room for his silly, sweet, childish best friend as part of their growing old vision and schemes.
Dysfunctional though Chandler's childhood was, it made him more compassionate and comfortable about the outliers and embracing the differences while overcoming his own battle with smoking in the show.
Unfortunately, his real life struggle with alcoholism led to much pain and suffering followed by a memoir, Friends, Lovers, and the Big Terrible Thing: A Memoir, recounting those raw experiences.
Playing Chandler Bing made him a very, very, rich man but it was impossible to outgrow the role.
He did do more work beyond his 'transponster' career like Fools Rush In (a run-of-the-mill rom-com opposite Salma Hayek) and crime comedy The Whole Nine Yards (ripped off by Bollywood as Awara Pagal Deewana) and its forgettable sequel The Whole Ten Yards but nothing to shake off the F.R.I.E.N.D.S zeitgeist.
Matthew Perry gave the world a beautiful everlasting gift in Chandler Muriel Bing.
One can only hope and pray he finds his peace while we take comfort in the knowledge of having a true friend and the therapeutic power of humour.
Chandleresque humour.
The One where it feels like when Melrose Place got cancelled.
