F.R.I.E.N.D.S

On my to work a bit ago, I bumped into a whole bunch of giggling kids who had scurried away from college to catch an early show. Obviously brand new at the bunking college enterprise, they were giggling more of nervousness than anything. Metal mouths snickering between conversation, downy fuzz on their upper lip, wearing tiny tees for the first time, they were meticulously counting out change just to see if they could pay for the movie, all the being ridiculously loud and attention seeking. They were making a complete nuisance of themselves and I wasn’t the only one burning in envy.

Man, the worst thing that can happen to a person is to grow up. For me, doomsday arrived the day I finished my education and I have yearned for it ever since.

I hate being a responsible adult, hating having to worry about grown up things. They say when you die and hopefully get to heaven; you will live your life when you were the happiest. I would probably be living my college life all over again. Not that I went to a fancy college or anything. All through school I made a horrendous fuss about going to a “cool” college but my overprotective parents wouldn’t hear of it and sent me off to a geek college. Ruparel College, Ruia College, Mumbai University, Max Mueller Bhavan, hardly cool material places. But I met the coolest people out there. For the first time, I made friends for life, people who taught me something and didn’t judge me by the clothes I wore and the language I spoke. They didn’t bother with the fact that I still hadn’t decided who I wanted to be as a person and they didn’t care. They didn’t judge.

I did meet people outside college obviously. People at work, people I generally know, my roommates, workmates and so many more. But these were among my oldest closest friends. Still are.

A mutual hatred for the college brought us together and we stayed together. There were additions and subtractions to the core gang, boyfriends and girlfriends came and went, some fo the times we stayed away from each other but we all came back together. Drifted apart, yelled, called each other names, cursed each to oblivion and came right back together.

Of course, we had common interests. Books, movies, sarcasm, life were always scrutinized, whined and bitched out and finally immolated in three drinks. But they stayed.

There were some who were came into my life just by chance meetings and stayed on and others who’d been there from day one till date.
There’s one friend who I met for the first time while she was going through an apoplexy in Hindi class.
Another who was introduced through a friend and we 20 questioned our way to a close friendship.
One I met on the second day of college. I complimented her milky pink nail colour. She took the bottle out of her bag and offered it to me. That simple.
One I was already friends with before I met her. We had both heard tons about each other.
One is a former workmate at IE.
One I met in a freelancer meeting exactly twice and we’ve stayed friends since although he isn’t in the country.
One joined college, hung out with us for a week, quit college but never stopped hanging.
One was a just a guy in college that spoke English.

Although most of them seem very normal to the disinterested observer, they are extremely talented and phenomenal people in their right. They all took their own different paths but always paused to see if any of their mates needed help and actually did help. Anytime I faltered, they would all protectively swoop down on me, scrape me off the floor, put me back together and sent me on my way. They saw me through most things in life, supported my decisions whether idiotic or not. Most were.

Right now, most of them are scattered around different parts of the globe and we never really get together. I see them very rarely. Emails are rare, sometimes not there at all. Although when I do see them, there is a familiar connection, I’m left wondering. Everytime I meet them, they’ve evolved beyond belief and once in a while I end up wondering if the magic is gone. For a long time, I didn’t get any answer about that one.

Then one day I did. July 11 2006. The day of the train blasts. I happened to be the only one in the city at the time. Also among the luck who didn’t step out of home. A viral or something, if I remember. The minute the phone lines came back on, I got 11 frantic phone calls demanding to know where I was. Yep, the magic was still there.

So, here’s to my buddies, you know who you are. Thank you for being you.