An ode to friendship: A voice from the past
My phone screen flashes with an incoming call. It is a name I have been familiar with for over 15 years now. And I know what this is about- she's getting married, and is calling to invite me for it. I pick up the phone with a smile and a hint of trepidation- for how do you speak to someone after an entire decade of silence?
Before you conclude that this silence was because of a nasty fight or something of that kind, let me clarify-this is not one of those things. It is more mundane than that, and sometimes I think that makes me sadder. I met her in my early years of school. We were born ten days apart, and had several things in common. Among the few friends that I had back then, she was one of the closest and staunchest. Over the years, through primary, middle and high school, we evolved and so did our friendship. I remember walking back to the parking lot after school everyday with her, and this used to be the part where we told each other about various anecdotes from the day. She was a wonderful friend and human being, and I cannot recollect a single moment of bitterness from that decade of friendship. School soon ended, and we parted ways. Those were the days before mobile phones, and hence landline numbers were all we had to exchange. Along with the first email id we'd created, because it was also the era of quaint email forwards and communications.
We promised to send each other emails regularly. And initially, we even did. We would exchange long emails about our respective lives and what we were up to, and look forward to the replies we'd get. Ah, I still remember those endearing emails- sitting at an ancient PC and typing out an essay while on an infernal dial up connection. I feel a huge wave of nostalgia sweep me even as I write this. We continued this way for quite some time -she through her pre University in commerce and me through mine in science. We even continued through my first two years of engineering. But eventually, the mails dwindled down. And then it became just birthday wishes. By then, we all had mobile phones of our own, but somehow we never transitioned into that space. We remained friends of email. And slowly, that barrier of unfamiliarity increased till it became insurmountable - we had each other's phone numbers, but we never called. We kept sending birthday wishes for 9 years after school,but our interactions were no more than that.
Yet, this year when I was getting married, she was one of the first people I thought of sharing the news with. But me being me, it never occurred to me to call and invite her. I sent a message on WhatsApp and that was about it. But she came to my wedding anyway - because we had stronger ties than nine years of silence could sever. As expected in any wedding, I was in the midst of hundreds of friends, relatives and miscellaneous guests, and any conversation that transcended pleasantries was near impossible. We spoke a little in that period, and I learnt that she was engaged to be married. She was also a chartered accountant now, and I was very proud of all that she had achieved. But I knew almost nothing of her any more. Life changes people a lot from when they're 16, and I had missed out on that entire decade of my friend's life, as she had mine. I only had my memories of her from school, and even those were blurred out by time now, they were more in the general vague space of happy times, but the number of anecdotes I could recall accurately were and are fast falling.
I went back one day and signed in to that first quirky email account I'd created, and dug up our old mail conversations. I drank them in for an hour, fondly smiling at the naviete of two 16 year olds writing each other, talking of all the things that transpired and excited us. It seemed for a moment that I was reading someone else's mail, because I had changed so much: I had outgrown that phase of unvarnished excitement for life, and that innate trust in all people-life had not taught me its harsh lessons yet. (I also used to write like a stereotypical teenager, and I cringe reading that now, but that's another matter.) The genuineness in those emails choked and overwhelmed me-did I have such conversations anymore?
Even after poring through all those emails, I realized I didn't know my friend. Not in the present at least. I knew her from back then, and I hoped she was the same, but I didn't really know. And so you find me here, looking at the phone screen with a mix of emotions. I had a class in half an hour, and normally I wouldn't have attended the call, but this was an exception. I answered the call with a nervous hi, and could almost hear the vulnerability reflected back in my friend's reply. She told me about her upcoming wedding, and I was genuinely happy for her. We fell back into our old ways, and I was immensely glad to discover that we still had a lot in common. She was also the same person I remembered, and a decade had only made her better. We both gradually grew more comfortable in the conversation, and told each other about our lives. I would have loved to talk longer, but my half hour came to an end.
Her wedding is in two days. I will of course be there, but I'm also aware that we won't be talking much. I have asked myself so many times in the past two weeks: How did this happen? How did we go from such close friends to acquaintances? I can find no answer except the bottomless abyss of time echoing my question. Maybe the ice has been broken now. Maybe we'll call each other more often. Maybe we'll go to being close friends who know all about each others' lives yet again. I ponder over these things; they are my early morning musings, and they leave me skeptical of adulthood.
P.S: I am a person who very carefully invests in people, or rather friendship. I make a conscious effort to be a good friend, to always stay in touch, to be there for people in all those times that matter. Or so I thought. Despite all that, over time, there have been close friends I have lost touch with, for no fathomable reason other than growing up. I realize that I no longer have the time to maintain that wide a circle of friends and know all of them well, because it is not realistic anymore- life has changed, and so many responsibilities are now mine. I peer into the future, and I fear this getting worse- I imagine getting to the state of not having spoken to my friends in years. I once never thought that would happen, and now, here I am, and I can almost see it coming true. This is a reality of adulthood- you are surrounded by so many things that you have to ruthlessly prioritize.
But even now, I promise you--and this is to all those people who've called me a close friend--I will not give up without trying. If we have been friends this long, then believe me when I say that I value what we have. I might not always text you, I might not even call you as often as I once used to do. I still want to know what goes on in your life, and I want to be one of the first people you think of in your good and bad times. I will try to be there for you, as I always have. But in turn I have one thing to ask of you-- do not give up on me. Especially after those times when I do not respond to your messages or calls. It is perhaps then that I need you to believe in us the most.
To all those adults whose friendships have been neglected after growing up, I plead of you- do not give up on the people you once cherished. We inhabit a world that is fast shrinking, but people are as lonely as ever, if not more. We need people to share our happiness and sorrow with, and those who have known us for a very long time are also the ones who know us best-do not outgrow them. Hold on to them for support, and offer them yours. To that noble ideal- genuine friendship!
Before you conclude that this silence was because of a nasty fight or something of that kind, let me clarify-this is not one of those things. It is more mundane than that, and sometimes I think that makes me sadder. I met her in my early years of school. We were born ten days apart, and had several things in common. Among the few friends that I had back then, she was one of the closest and staunchest. Over the years, through primary, middle and high school, we evolved and so did our friendship. I remember walking back to the parking lot after school everyday with her, and this used to be the part where we told each other about various anecdotes from the day. She was a wonderful friend and human being, and I cannot recollect a single moment of bitterness from that decade of friendship. School soon ended, and we parted ways. Those were the days before mobile phones, and hence landline numbers were all we had to exchange. Along with the first email id we'd created, because it was also the era of quaint email forwards and communications.
We promised to send each other emails regularly. And initially, we even did. We would exchange long emails about our respective lives and what we were up to, and look forward to the replies we'd get. Ah, I still remember those endearing emails- sitting at an ancient PC and typing out an essay while on an infernal dial up connection. I feel a huge wave of nostalgia sweep me even as I write this. We continued this way for quite some time -she through her pre University in commerce and me through mine in science. We even continued through my first two years of engineering. But eventually, the mails dwindled down. And then it became just birthday wishes. By then, we all had mobile phones of our own, but somehow we never transitioned into that space. We remained friends of email. And slowly, that barrier of unfamiliarity increased till it became insurmountable - we had each other's phone numbers, but we never called. We kept sending birthday wishes for 9 years after school,but our interactions were no more than that.
Yet, this year when I was getting married, she was one of the first people I thought of sharing the news with. But me being me, it never occurred to me to call and invite her. I sent a message on WhatsApp and that was about it. But she came to my wedding anyway - because we had stronger ties than nine years of silence could sever. As expected in any wedding, I was in the midst of hundreds of friends, relatives and miscellaneous guests, and any conversation that transcended pleasantries was near impossible. We spoke a little in that period, and I learnt that she was engaged to be married. She was also a chartered accountant now, and I was very proud of all that she had achieved. But I knew almost nothing of her any more. Life changes people a lot from when they're 16, and I had missed out on that entire decade of my friend's life, as she had mine. I only had my memories of her from school, and even those were blurred out by time now, they were more in the general vague space of happy times, but the number of anecdotes I could recall accurately were and are fast falling.
I went back one day and signed in to that first quirky email account I'd created, and dug up our old mail conversations. I drank them in for an hour, fondly smiling at the naviete of two 16 year olds writing each other, talking of all the things that transpired and excited us. It seemed for a moment that I was reading someone else's mail, because I had changed so much: I had outgrown that phase of unvarnished excitement for life, and that innate trust in all people-life had not taught me its harsh lessons yet. (I also used to write like a stereotypical teenager, and I cringe reading that now, but that's another matter.) The genuineness in those emails choked and overwhelmed me-did I have such conversations anymore?
Even after poring through all those emails, I realized I didn't know my friend. Not in the present at least. I knew her from back then, and I hoped she was the same, but I didn't really know. And so you find me here, looking at the phone screen with a mix of emotions. I had a class in half an hour, and normally I wouldn't have attended the call, but this was an exception. I answered the call with a nervous hi, and could almost hear the vulnerability reflected back in my friend's reply. She told me about her upcoming wedding, and I was genuinely happy for her. We fell back into our old ways, and I was immensely glad to discover that we still had a lot in common. She was also the same person I remembered, and a decade had only made her better. We both gradually grew more comfortable in the conversation, and told each other about our lives. I would have loved to talk longer, but my half hour came to an end.
Her wedding is in two days. I will of course be there, but I'm also aware that we won't be talking much. I have asked myself so many times in the past two weeks: How did this happen? How did we go from such close friends to acquaintances? I can find no answer except the bottomless abyss of time echoing my question. Maybe the ice has been broken now. Maybe we'll call each other more often. Maybe we'll go to being close friends who know all about each others' lives yet again. I ponder over these things; they are my early morning musings, and they leave me skeptical of adulthood.
But even now, I promise you--and this is to all those people who've called me a close friend--I will not give up without trying. If we have been friends this long, then believe me when I say that I value what we have. I might not always text you, I might not even call you as often as I once used to do. I still want to know what goes on in your life, and I want to be one of the first people you think of in your good and bad times. I will try to be there for you, as I always have. But in turn I have one thing to ask of you-- do not give up on me. Especially after those times when I do not respond to your messages or calls. It is perhaps then that I need you to believe in us the most.
To all those adults whose friendships have been neglected after growing up, I plead of you- do not give up on the people you once cherished. We inhabit a world that is fast shrinking, but people are as lonely as ever, if not more. We need people to share our happiness and sorrow with, and those who have known us for a very long time are also the ones who know us best-do not outgrow them. Hold on to them for support, and offer them yours. To that noble ideal- genuine friendship!
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