Old Friends

All throughout our lives, we meet people. Lots of them.






And we befriend some of them while struggling to get through our existences.


Some of them stick around forever.
Most ghost out.
This one’s for them.

We might’ve been great friends once.




But somewhere down the road, we got cut off. We stopped hanging out, stopped talking, stopped enquiring.
We changed paths, went our own separate ways. Probably fell apart. It happens.

But know this.


I might’ve tried really hard to get back in touch with you. Maybe you did too.

Maybe you never responded. Maybe I didn’t.


But when I think of us, I think happy memories.

I might’ve been angry with you over something. I might’ve been hurt. You probably would’ve been too.

But growing older (and a little wiser), I would rather associate my memories with you as fond, rather than regretful.

After all, we did spend a couple of good years together- laughing till our stomachs hurt, dancing the night away, sharing secrets, sitting together in comfortable silences, wiping each other’s tears, hugging the pain away.




For the times I couldn’t be there for you.

For the times I failed you as a friend.

For the times I said hurtful things.

For the times I acted irresponsibly.

For all the times you felt alone.


I’m sorry.

We might’ve grown apart over the years, might’ve forgotten each other’s numbers, but today I promise you this, if you ever need me, you know where to find me and I’ll be there for you.


And I wish you nothing but the best in your life.


Take care.

I love you.


Of Futures and Friendships

Lately I’ve been having identity issues, which are mainly being caused by two reasons:

A. NO idea of what I’m going to be doing in the future.
B. Unsurety of the people in my life.

The first, I can try to handle. In a phase where most people around me know what their next step is, I don’t have the slightest idea of my answer to the question, “What next?” Sure, I don’t want to practice dentistry and want to do something on the lines of what I’m doing right now- Write, but I don’t know how to work for it. But I guess I’ll figure it out. Eventually. I hope.

Coming on to people, talk about friends. Talk about family. Talk about having people in your life who you can call at 3 am because you’re having a meltdown. About people whose places you can crash at when you’re visiting their city. Talk about people who cheer you on in your life, even if it’s when you’re crushing on a super cute guy or chasing after him on the street. About people who bitch about the people you hate even though they haven’t met. About people who are YOUR people.

All through school, college and work life, we meet people, we make friends, make enemies, make memories. But as time passes, you realise the people you called your “friends”, the people you sat in groups with and fooled around with were never really your friends. They were just people in your life who you spent time with in order to avoid being alone and somehow believed they were faithful to the sacred vows of friendship.

It doesn’t matter if you talk twice a year, on each other’s birthdays or every now and then. Your true friends will always be around to pat you on your back or slap you in your face. They will always be there when you need them. Your conversations will always begin with, “bitch where have you been?” followed by numerous other gaalis, but your sisterhood will always be pure.

And just last night, after my usual ritual of pre-bed facebook and Instagram, I felt so fucking low. Cuz I fathomed how alone I really was, atleast in my city, and I broke down, tears and all. Having nobody you could physically confront is like a jab in the side. But I knew who I could talk to. We’re miles away, but we never miss a single gossip thread, or an opportunity for a bitch fest. And similarly, I have a few more, all in different cities, but all the same- all soul sisters.


I know which of the strangers out there are my people.
And although it hurts that they’re not close by, I have a warmth that wherever they are, they’re mine.