So it’s the first Sunday of August and the world has
suddenly become witness to another bout of vicarious arousal of friendly
emotions. Yet another year.
The sweltering heat coupled with the unbearable murderous
headache had made me snappy and no one, except the ice cold marble floor,
seemed to be my Best Friend. Oh, I’m so going to make love to the floor
tonight.
Since I’ve absolutely nothing to do in this state, I just
end up thinking about the reason we forge friendships with people who may be
nothing like us or might be the Siamese twin we never had. If we go into the
scientific basis of this, you’ll come across lots of paraphernalia about the
cravings of society by man, the partnerships to maintain an emotional and
mental balance, blah blah blah.
I’m not writing this to dissect friendships or the base of
it. This is just a piece to the beautiful people I have in my life.
Its commonly believed that the best friendships are the ones
dating back to the childhood days when alliances were more likely based on
innocence than any ulterior motive. Well, I’m not so sure any more. Of course, I
still have people who have known me since the time I sported very unfashionable
hair (hey ma, see you’re not forgiven yet!) and I still like to think we share
quite a jolly camaraderie.
But as we grow up, we become different individuals in our
own spaces. I like yellow, she likes green. And somehow it becomes extremely
difficult to complement yellow and green because yellow is never green. And that
is when we search for other ‘yellow’ people.
If I analyze my own friendships, I love the ‘green’s. But it’s
the yellow’s I go to, to bare my soul.
I’ve tried, unsuccessfully at times, to cherish and
celebrate all the people in my life. What sort of relationship we share,
progressive, regressive or just plain stagnant doesn’t matter at times. But the
ones who have loved me, cherished me and celebrated me are the ones I did not
find toddling in my diapers.
They are the ones I found discussing scandal and
highbrow-eyebrow rising stuff in the middle of the night in some oblivious
hotel room where we have taken off for an impromptu vacation. The ones who drag
me from store to store and even to the stores we are kicked out from for ahem…
uncivil conduct. We make plans to elope with each other and live in the Kingdom
of Far Far Away and then we remember the men in our lives and debate whether we
should tow them along. Where we have common friends, common enemies and even
common imaginable people ‘we no like’! Where past stories are dug up and not
sympathy but warm loving understanding is what engulfs you.
I don’t call enough. I don’t meet you guys enough. Heck, I don’t
even tell you what an intrinsic part of my life you are.
But I do love you. Forever more.
P.S: If you have to blame anyone for this serious sentimentalist
piece, feel free to call up Archies and Hallmark!
