The reasons for Friendship

She lives down the road for me.

We're the same size, we can share clothes and shoes.

He lives in the same neighbourhood, so it's easier for him to drop me home after a night out.

She gets my space issues, no one else does.

There was no one else really. It was a shit hole, and I looked for the most like-minded one.

We liked the same books, we had nothing else to talk about, but we really did like our books.

She made me laugh. We had nothing in common, but dear God, she could make me laugh!

He gave the most amazing hugs. Yup, that's really all it took.

He was popular, and I wanted in on the in group.

Her mum used to give me a ride home from school. And then we got to chatting.

She's my brother's ex-girlfriend. Yes I know it's weird.

We were on the train together once and I fell asleep on his shoulder.

I'm not really sure how it happened. But I'm so glad it did.

. , ; !

The punctuations in sentences are good.

The pauses give you time to stop, take a breath, consider.

Take stock of words behind you, weigh them and feel them.

Appreciate how the simple ones are the nicest...the most beautiful.

The pauses make you anticipate the words that will follow.

And so it is with you and me.

I always look forward to our next sentence.

How To Turn Yourself Into A Lady

Whenever I talk to BG, there are words of wisdom to be had.

Here's another kitchen conversation example that I have her permission to share.

"I could just walk around with a book on my head. Because that's what I've learned from all those movie montages. As soon as you put a book on your head, you automatically know which fork to use for what. It's that simple."

Blindsided

My college in Bombay had a system of students doing social work at another Postgraduate college which had several blind students enrolled in programmes there.

A few days ago, I came across a girl who was with me in college who told me why she had stopped at 10 hours of social work instead of the usual 60 hours. It was because she felt extremely uncomfortable with one of the blind students she used to read to. It was an intuitive feeling, and luckily, nothing had actually happened. She stopped going there before it did.

Two other friends of mine however, did not.

The same boy had molested them and they felt absolutely conflicted about what they could do about the situation because after all, he was blind. Who would believe them?! They felt bad about reporting him because of his disability. He apparently, felt no such qualms about exploiting it to its full potential.

I'd love to say that there was a point to this post, but the truth is, there isn't.

The story just absolutely and wholeheartedly sickened me.

So I'm going to proceed to break a self-inflicted rule of mine on the blog and name names... to an extent anyway, and say, 'Rajesh, you are an absolute BA****D'.

Facts

Any song sounds better when it's in French

Calling people 'interesting' when they're just plain weird is out. 'Socially unaware' or 'Socially awkward' is much more honest, and surprisingly, still acceptable.

When you cook with garlic, the smell never leaves the sleeves of your shirt. Not the whole shirt, just the sleeves. What's up with that?

There are nice, intelligent Americans out there. I know, control the European/Asian shock. It's true.

People will always ask obvious questions or make obvious statements. Like when you're sitting with a book and they go, 'Oh, you're reading'. Even worse, you will do it at some point. And hate yourself for it.

The dramatic void

Today I overheard a familiar conversation. It went something like this:

'Yes, he did this... so I did this... and then he said... so what is the deal? I mean, what did he think he was doing?!! It's so ridiculous... etc etc'.

That wasn't the exact conversation of course, but pretty much the essence of it.

The reason it sounded familiar, was because I'd heard it before. I recognised the dramatic urgency of each sentence, the way everything sounded as if it were a matter of the utmost importance. In fact, I'd even been a part of many such conversations.

The only difference is, I remember it from school.

When I was younger. Much younger. And every minor hiccup seemed like a major catastrophe.

Since then, I've encountered some real mishaps... actual catastrophes that made school-time gossip seem like story books. It seems like most other people have as well. Or maybe it's just the majority of people in my life, who have moved on to a place where we can not sweat the small stuff quite as much, and appreciate that the small stuff isn't as horrible as the big stuff.

Then again, there are those who remain in this enchanted void, where 'he said... she said' continues to be the main dramatic theme. Where nothing is more gut-wrenching than a two-month failed could-have-been relationship and every day life is filled with all the emotion of a day-time soap. I wonder if maybe they're better off?

I feel old.

In Conversation

Sometimes you discover the pearls when you're not even looking for them.

Conversation about someone...nice.

Person A: Nice? Since when are you into 'Nice'?

Person B: Ever since 'interesting' turned out to be a synonym for 'asshole'.

The In-between

So the concept of everything fitting into 'black' and 'white' died a quick death.

I'm finding I'm more inclined to believe that everything is in shades of grey.
There's no black really, just a really really dark shade of grey. No white, just a light dusting of grey.

Black and white was easier.
Either/Or and there you have it. It was done.

The in-between is complicated. It makes allowances for anomalies and exceptions to the rule.
The best friend who would be at your side at a moment's notice to help you with all your drama is still capable of being a really bad boyfriend/husband.
Or the loving, accepting, open-minded couple can still let all kinds of traditional hell break loose if one of their children marry outside 'the community'.
And the boss you look up to and admire, even aspire to be, can be unethical on more issues than you care to count.

It's all allowed and there's not really much you can do about it.
It's the grey you see?

Overkill

Today I was stuck behind a man whose olfactory senses were dead.

I know this because that is the only explanation for how much cologne he had on.

I felt bad for him.

But not as bad as I felt for myself. Stuck behind him. For twenty minutes. That felt more like forty minutes. In a packed train. With no immediate escape. Or ventilation.

As he got off the train, I whispered softly - just enough to be audible, but not enough so as to appear rude and he'd want to hit me, "Moderation".

There's no such thing as perfection.

That's one of the big disillusionments isn't it?

The perfect life, the perfect man/woman, the perfect house, the perfect car, oh yes, the perfect job.

They don't exist. So chasing them is pointless.

The bitterness of that lesson doesn't fade with time or the number of reality checks.

Today I was reminded of it again.

But as I sat there, having dinner and conversation with someone I loved like family, that was perfection right there.

My brothers' hugs, countless times of perfection.

Shoes that fit just right, perfect!

Maybe all those fairytale stereotypes of 'the ideal' whatever won't come true.

But I'm quite content with living from moment to moment of my own perfect constructions.

Failure 1 for 2010

I bought coffee.

I know I said I wouldn't.

But I did.

And it felt so good.

Oblivion

Four year old: Can you read me another book?

Me: No. I read you three already.

FYO: But I want you to.

Me: I can't. I need to study.

FYO: What's 'study'?

Me: I have an exam. So I need to do some work for that.

FYO: What's 'exam'?

I didn't want to disenchant her blissful oblivion.

It will happen soon enough!