Can’t believe it’s been three years since I started my blog (despite not being regular lately).
Also, I still am this way:
THANKS for all the love, you guys!
Presenting, with some dramatization, golden words of advice from a friend that I must remember:
The reason you feel overwhelmed now is because, in the past, you felt as if only bad things came your way. But fate had something much better planned for you. Now, all the pieces of this jigsaw puzzle are falling into place and it’s almost solved. And now, you can envision what is coming ahead, unlike before. It is only this positivity that is overwhelming because you’re not used to it.
If you’re worried about whether you’ve made the right decision, or whether whatever you had in mind was better, then we are, at the end of the day, a product of our choices. And we always have to make a choice. No one can do all things at all times. Hence, you give up one thing to gain another.
And at the end of the day, you should be happy about it all.
THANK YOU, friend. You know who you are!
Here’s the letter that I should have “written”…
I just counted. I’ve known you for around twelve years now. Half our lives. Feels like forever, though.
When I look back to how we became friends, I would have to give a lot of credit to fate. Your birthday came at the perfect time. And if you hadn’t fallen ill and required my help in catching up, we might not have jump-started this friendship.
You became a part of my life at a time when it wasn’t at its best. When I had just been handed some new challenges and things weren’t easy. But of course you didn’t know that. Yet, in your own special way, you made it better. And easier.
Hence, in retrospect, I’m very grateful for deciding not to change my section, even if the first reason was that I’d rather have Mrs. Wallace as my English teacher.
I’m sure you remember Mrs. Wallace. She isn’t an easy person to forget and the main reason isn’t that she gave us both a hard time. She just made sure that even twelve years later (and more, hopefully), we’d still be friends.
I can’t believe that in about a week, you will be embarking on a new phase in your life. That you’d be married soon and going far, far away. Or that you’re the first one of us to bite the dust. That we’ve finally reached this point in our lives. That you’d go from a Ms. to a Mrs.
It’s only an addition of an “r”, I suppose but I still can’t wrap my head around it. Because I still feel like we’re two awkward teenagers just plowing through our lives…
Being loud. Being obnoxious. Talking for hours over the phone after spending the whole day together at school. Knowing each and every detail of how we spent the day. Knowing every extended member of each other’s families. Exchanging notes during lecture. Stopping at the canteen for samosas on the way to transporting class books from the basement to the top floor. Visiting your dad for junk-food money. Being the victim of teacher politics and still holding strong. Eating mountains of that strawberry toffee that I can’t remember the name of. Arguing over stupid things. Crying at the end of the Murree trip together. Making up for everything with a simple hug. Random walk to Masoom’s every other day. Studying over the phone with your brother.
There’s so so much more! Even after we left school and weren’t together everyday, you were there for me.
But most of all, what I remember is how you made me a better person. How you helped me communicate better and open up to people. How I tried so many new things with you around.
I don’t know how you put up with this presumptuous nerd all these years. But maybe, it’s because I was your presumptuous nerd.
Because no one else would hold my cold, dead hand during lecture to try to warm it up and make me feel less shivery.
I less than 3 you, S!
Today and always…
Like always, the past is in the room with you. Like a shadow. You can’t not notice it.
It sits next to you, legs crossed, looking sharp. Clever. Shadowy. Dazzling. A tinkle of soft laughter here; a grin pasted there. Feet shuffled, legs re-crossed, hair tossed.
The only other noise is the halted, hesitant conversation. More than some silent seconds tick by.
Then you pick up an old joke, out of the blue, and you collectively mold it into something new. It gains more meaning, more worth. The laughter is new, genuine; the pleasure deep, true.
The past realizes its hold is slightly loose. That it is one trick short. Maybe it’s the laughter, maybe it’s the bright aura of the room; maybe it’s the light at the other end of the tunnel. But you can see through the past now. And you see that you can put it behind you.
Like always, the past will be in the room with you. But only like a shadow.
Good people exist in this world.
And so does superman! ‘Cause obviously no normal person could lift a car, practically on their own, out of a muddy ditch. Or can they? Well, it probably does depend on the car, the ditch, the person, the intention, the situation, yadda yadda yadda….
All I know is: good people exist in this world.
Thank you, kind stranger.
When you tell me the truth, boy,
I’ll run away and cry
But, I’ll be happy, happy, happy
I’ll be happy with my plastic smile and a lie