Dear
best friend,
It
has been two long years in Hyderabad and I was contemplating over how I have changed
as a person; over things, experiences and people who got added to my life.
Surprisingly, what stood out in the entire list was you and this fact compelled
me to write something about you – about us, disregarding how cheesy it might
sound. I seldom write about people, because how can you put down what someone
means to you in words and do justice to those emotions, but, today, I want to
try.
I
remember seeing you at office for the first time – bright blue shirt and black
trousers, poker straight hair, make up so heavy that it could give one of those
models a deep complex, heels so high that I wondered if you need to directly rush
to a party right after office; and I immediately stereotyped you to be this
loud Delhi girl I can never become close friends with. Funny how first
impressions and be so misleading at times!
Destiny
and a bit of conscious maneuvering of it got us together as flat mates and I
want to write about how much I fell in love with you with every week that
passed. Is it too cheesy already? Oh, I am a cheesy and mushy person – I
pretend to be this cool girl, but I am so not her.
I
want to build up and then reach this point where I tell you that I have found my
soul mate in you, but an impatient person that I am, I will blurt it out
already – ‘Honey, I have found my soul mate in you.’ I want to recollect
incidents, you know those incidents when you look at your partner and think,
‘He’s the one.’ I want to talk about the ones when you made me feel that you’re
the one.
I
remember those mornings after some reckless drinking nights when I walked up to
you with regret, sobbing softly. Sometimes I would walk up with a
vomit-engulfed T-shirt, sometimes with a blacked-out memory, telling you, ‘My
life is over. I have turned into one of those girls I hated.’ Thank you for
telling me outright that you’re not going to say that it is fine, and it
happens, and it is okay to be young and reckless. I want to thank you for being
brutally honest and telling me that I am turning into a shitty person and that
you don’t like this person. Thank you for loving me just enough and not being
the forgiving and endearing person that I wanted you to be at that time. Thank
you being the friend I needed, not the one I wanted.
Thank
you for being at the first row for all my plays and performances and cheering
for me every time, every single time. It means a lot, you know to have loved ones telling you that they’re proud of you. Thank you for the jewelry,
make up and dresses that I borrowed every time. I often wonder what I’d do without
your wardrobe.
I
remember the days when I went through an existential crisis and forgot how to
smile for days, and even weeks. Thank you for helping me get out of it to
figure out who I am. Thank you for shaking me up and telling me that I’m your
hero and that you derive your strength from me.
How
can I forget my fracture and the way you cared for me like a mother – taking my
tantrums, cooking for me, cancelling your parties and working from home because
I was being a baby. The time when I was admitted to the hospital for the viral
fever which chose to not leave me for three straight weeks. Thank you for
taking my tantrums when I refused to talk to you because you left me alone for
an hour to have dinner. I behaved like a cranky little baby. Thank you for
letting me a baby, then.
Thank
you for paying heed to my whims and remembering the little details that I
whimsically throw around sometimes. You remembered that I once whimsically
stated that I want to have a swing where I can sit and read, and went ahead and
gifted me that swing on my birthday. I remember staring at a Winnie the Pooh
soft toy for five minutes and claiming that I want it. It was both funny and flattering
how you without another thought walked into the store and bought the Pooh. I
remember being cranky and telling you that I am bored of you and that I need
new friends. You smiled and patiently took my uncalled temper, went an extra
mile and suggested some new people whom I can be friends with. I often wonder
if I deserve this kind of love – the kind of love which spoils you. Thank you
for spoiling me, sometimes.
I
reminisce over our breakfast discussions, about my bizarre ideas of love and
life and you understanding those ideas. It’s strange how we’re two extremely
different people and yet understand each other so well. Thank you for
supporting me on my solo trip despite knowing how reckless a person I am. Thank
you for gifting me a solo trip package with a book, a diary, chocolates and
flashlight. These little things, these little things that you do for me – they
are everything!
I
often wonder how some people continue to love me despite my expression of love
being so vague. Thank you for understanding my expression of love even when it
was so indirect. Thank you for understanding that I love you even when I wasn’t
by your side for days on end when you were sick – emotionally and physically. Thank
you for understanding that I love you the same even when I failed to plan your
birthday even half as meticulously as you planned mine. Thank you for
understanding my quirks and idiosyncrasies, accepting them and loving me
despite them and sometimes, for them. Thank
you being the person I can share my dreams and stories with, thank you for
waiting for me at dinner. Thank you for being my person.
My
vocabulary is not capable of doing justice to my emotions, but I’d just like
you to know that I feel extremely lucky to have you in my life and you belong
to the group of people whom I call mine and take for granted, sometimes. I love
you!
I
forgot to mention one thing – you radiate happiness. It falls off your shining
cheeks, glittery eyes and infectious laughter and everyone in your radar gets a
gift of that happiness. You can walk into a dank, dingy room and brighten it up
with your smile. You are amazing! I think I have already crossed my threshold
of the number of cheesy words I can use in a day.
Love,
The
girl with the fake accent
