Hello Dearest Reader,
It had been almost a month since I last wrote to you. And if I’m honest to myself then I must admit that you crossed my mind a few times. But then life has its quirk. It often like doom scrolling on your cell phones, drags you along in its current. You pass the hours mindlessly caught up in chores. So I simply ignored the keyboard and made excuses to not share a story. However, stories lazed and floated all around me waiting to be passed on.
The picture you see on top, are of three women who are friends. Once upon a time they were young girls. They were fourteen when life ensured that their paths crossed. One of us joined the school where the other two studied since nursery. And somehow she became a part of the group. Middle class Bengali ethos was what tied us all together. We had parents who harped on a good education and better grades. There were curfew hours set at sundown when we had to be back home. We ate the same kind of food, loved our Hindi movie songs, danced to Michael Jackson numbers, abhorred maths, shared each other’s tiffins, laughed at all the inane things of the world, had crushes every five days and heartbreak every week. We also had a wonderful school which nurtured us and we thrived well within its walled compound.
With not much liberty to roam our city, our safe spaces where each other’s homes. Our parents were comfortable that we girls would hang out with each other. The holidays would invariably see us getting dropped at each other’s places in the morning and being picked up in the evening, depending on who’s hosting the lunch that day. Mind you no dinners. Sundown and we had to be back home. But those afternoons and hours in school forged a friendship which withstood time and tests of life. We passed out of school. Shivering and shaking in anticipation of our Accountancy marks. We all were almost sure that we would not score pass mark. And one of our moms made an astonished comment on how three girls together could be so academically uninclined to be in the same fear sunk-hole just before results.Thankfully we managed to score in our seventy’s and saved ourselves from more scathing remarks from any of our parents.
We survived the flush of first love and supported each other from the crushing heartbreaks that followed. We interviewed would-be spouses of each other to certify if they are fit to enter our lives. We knew each other’s families and extended ones too. We supported each other when we got married and realised there’s nothing rosy about it. We cribbed about our jobs, career and frustration that came with it. We celebrated birthdays, small wins, by sharing a dinner or yapping over coffee. We saw one of our child group up to be almost and adult and championed him as if he was our own. We prayed when there was illness and suffering and rallied around each other through thick and thin..
Some souls walk the earth as a group. They become the support system, the sounding board, the champions of each other’s causes, and are tied by some karmic blessings. When one of us left home town to shift to Mumbai after getting married, the second followed suit in search of a better career few years later. The third moved to the same city further down the line as the husband got transferred and the three women anchored together in Mumbai.These women you see are one of those bright shining examples of soul group which walk the earth together and remain the support bedrock for each other.
Recently we were together to grieve one of our parent’s passing. The memories flooded our conversations. The lunches, the laughter and Mashi’s snap comments as we grew up - all came tumbling. One of us grieved and we grieved along with her. One of us felt lost and the others tried to form a circle of love to heal. And the house which held sepia tainted memories of giggling girls in the summer afternoons saw three women grieving and bidding farewell to a part of their childhood.
You can see the picture of the dear departed on the wall behind us and with her we lost part our growing up years. We have now entered the phase where our younger years will lose space in memories as they have from reality. All those elders who witnessed it, will slowly walk away from this plane leaving us utterly alone and forcing us to play the role they once played. But so mighty glad I’m of this friendship which lasted years and seems like it has lasted lifetimes, that my heart swells with gratitude. I’m one lucky woman to have two wise souls standing guard, watching, accepting, supporting and loving unconditionally.
So dearest reader if you have taken as many rounds around the sun as me, I hope to God, you have picked up some friends like these. They will make your happiness grow tenfolds and your grief a lot more bearable. These friendships make walking this earth not only worth it, but fun. You will laugh even on your gloomiest day because you have pocket full of sunshine at your disposal. Hurry! Reach out to those rare souls and tell them how much they mean to you.
Till the next story, always yours,
Pocket full of life
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