To Nisha....

When Nisha got married, she didn’t ask for anything materialistic. She wanted me to write something for her. And like the completely absentminded person that I am, I forgot. It is a trait of mine to carelessly sideline the most important ones in my life. It is not a habit borne out of intention, but rather habituation. So, when Nisha announced that she will be leaving for the USA for an year or two, all I could feel was a sudden lump in my throat, which I don’t think I masked very well. All I could think was that she was important to me. Though we live far from each other and don’t see each other often, there is this bond that remains strong. A bond that has stood its test of time and space. But there was this assurance that if need be, I could always visit her in Bangalore. Last time she came home, she begged me to meet up with her. Being completely self absorbed during the time, I found it easier to say that we will meet next time. This was a point she raised after dropping the bomb. All I could mutter were these exact words, ‘I can do it, but not you. You are supposed…’. My voice trailed off after that. The missing part was, ‘to be there, forever.’.

The truth is that she has always been there. She has always been the wind beneath my wings, in ways that she doesn’t even realize. She has always been the quiet one. I have always been ruthless.  Till an age,I have never once halted and thought about the disastrous consequences my tiny actions bring on others. That sense evolved only later in my developmental process. On the other hand, she was the queen of calmness, a trait she has thankfully begun to lose. There was a balance. There is a balance. What we do and think have evolved from a thread of interdependence in which at least one has a solution for every problem we face, together or apart. The most wonderful quality about her is that, she has achieved something most of my friends and family haven’t. She actually lets me be. True, there have been moments when I have scared her to death with my antics, when she has cried and gotten angry at me for not trusting her with my problems, etc. She has also forbidden me to do things along the course of our friendship, but even with all that, she accepts I am different, that I don’t fit into the general population and expects nothing less from me. But the part that she doesn’t know yet and it is highly hard for me to say this without any feeling, is that I don’t need to talk to her about my problems. When I do get sad or lonely and I need her, I just need to listen to her voice. She might be chattering like a monkey (Oh, she does and I love it.) on the other side of the phone and I maybe crying on this side. But, by the end of the phone call, I will be smiling or laughing. Wait a second before you think she is insensitive. The last question of hers has always been, ‘Why were you sad?’, whenever I have been. She has always known when I am sad, without me telling her. I always end up telling her that it was nothing. That is true. Because by then, it had become nothing.

When I was studying for my post graduation, I had this wonderful roommate who had become extremely close with me. We were extremely good friends. I have found very few people with whom I have felt the kind of intellectual and emotional connection as strong as I have felt with her. There have been moments when she would take precedence in my list of friends. But (she might read this, but she knows how I feel about her and that every word I am writing is true), there have been times when she would put a dagger straight through my heart. It was during one of those moments that I realized how important Nisha was. I remember smiling and crying alternately, thinking that I am lucky to have someone who has always been my safety net and who I am absolutely certain of continuing so, through the years.

The question in my mind right now is whether to bore you with the so many hilarious episodes we have shared. No. I am going to just flip through the most poignant ones in my mind. But I do have a super star among them that I want to remind her of. We were seventeen and in school. Our teacher had caught us talking. I was the one doing the talking and she was listening and ironically, she was punished. She was made to stand outside the class. I went up to the teacher and told her that I should be punished and not her. Well, she punished me too. So, we were standing there and she was trying hard not to burst out laughing. In between those gulps of air was a pause in her eyes I will never forget. It whispered to me very quietly, ‘Yes, we are friends.’ It is one of the most poetic moments I remember in my life.

 There are no streets in the city that we have not wandered lost yet content. Though I should say that the sun has not been my friend whenever I have had to wait for her. She possesses this unique ability of being late, even if I am late to reach the spot. But, I have had my share of such abilities too. The most marked one being the ability to forget her birthday every single year. I remember the birthday some years back. I had called her up on the day, talked for some time without wishing her and hung up. Around a fortnight later, another close friend called me up and asked me if I have forgotten to do anything that month. I made a checklist in my mind and well, let us just say that the air filled with a distressed shriek. I immediately called her up and I believe my first sound was ‘eeeeeeeeeeeee….eeeeee……..’. Of course, she understood and soon was convulsed with laughter.

Now, when she reads this, she won’t say how much she loves me. (She seldom expresses her love for me. Actually it is something that doesn’t require words.) She won’t even tell me she loved what I have written about her. But she will giggle; in that quiet giggle like a babbling brook hitting the occasional pebbles. Then she will call me up and giggle some more. All I can say is that this is my very belated wedding gift. Please do remember this post the next time I forget your birthday, Nish. I love you.