You text every day, almost impulsively which forms part of routine. It’s banal, the same old texts that wish you a good morning, ask you how your day was, wish you a good night. The texts don’t seem very extraordinary. Until- they’re having the busiest day at work or are out with friends and are having a good time. They text you nonetheless. They video call you before going out for a party to help them pick the right outfit even though your taste in clothes are nothing like theirs. Sometimes they’ll video call you irrespective of where they are and who they’re with, introduce you to their friends and when you were least expecting it, they send you an unintelligible text asking how your day was. It’s the same text that has buzzed up your phone for eight years now but your heart lights up as if a million candles were lit up inside.
You’ve known them for eight years now and have spent considerable time around each other and in each other’s houses. You’d expect them to take you for granted, which is quite normal in most friendships. You’re in their house only for two weeks. Who cares if the bedsheet hasn’t been changed in four days? But they do, they remember that you prefer them changed every four days, or that you like to light candles before you sleep and they always remember to restock your candle supply lest they be over and you can’t sleep at night. You return home from a trip and the unfolded laundry that you had stuffed in your suitcase is now carefully folded and kept. Finally, it takes you twenty one years but you realise that a lot of people will tell you “I’m here for you” but only a few will translate their words into action; being “there” for someone is best felt when not spelt out, it is in remembering and noticing the little things.
They’re starkly different from you. They don’t like to read. They’re not very keen on walking eight kilometres early in the morning after a night of a little too much booze. They don’t understand organic farming. They don’t take a lot of interest in geopolitics or the history of the Ottoman empire. You don’t understand Japanese. You can’t possibly fathom how they have the patience to willingly teach such a complex language. You don’t like the fact that they’re still not trying to be vegan. Yet you cannot get enough of each other. On some days you wonder how you could possibly be friends with this person. Ding! A notification from them, you open it and see a picture of a gift wrap in which you’d wrapped a book you thought they would like and gifted it to them. They never read the book, yet they saved the gift wrap for some reason and they’ve had it carefully with them for over five years now. You don’t need to wonder anymore.
On very busy days too they still make time. Sending unintelligible good morning texts you know were sent while they were still half asleep. You couldn’t reply because you were getting late to work. A mid-office five minute call to make up for it, asking how their day is going and exchanging random updates about the previous day and plans for the evening. You promise you’ll call them after reaching home. A couple of hours pass, the buzzing phone reads an angry yet affectionate text- how dare you not text me for three hours? A few minutes later- a picture of them taken from their laptop in the ten minutes of break between classes. It’s late evening now and they’re frustrated because you’d promised to call and you were just about to- when suddenly it rings. An angry hello, a smile, the sound of a voice you know too well that shouts “Didii”, and soon enough you’re both laughing. Busy days can be hard, but love is always easy.
“I have booked my tickets, I am coming to see you.” A sentence that makes you feel like hugging every person in the room. You know they’d be by your side- whether you’re physically ill, or you just miss them. There’s nothing more precious than knowing you have one person in the world who won’t wait till you’re dying to come see you. They’d just do it anyway, because you mentioned it.
Literature, Poetry and Reading. 