I have not blogged for a long time but now I have found a reason to be back. And I am writing about Jug in my life for the #DearZindagi activity at BlogAdda. Mind you, I am gonna wake you up in your ungodly hour and make you read this before it goes live. After all, you are my Jug.
Some people come into our lives and barely leave any trace while some leave footprints that carves into our soul, and then suddenly, we never be the same.
You, dear friend, have been imbibed upon my heart since day one. When you tapped on my shoulder with your little finger and asked if I wanted to be friends with you? Well, who wouldn't have wanted to be friends with someone who has a magnet pencil case and a box full of color pencils to share with? My answer was obvious. With a smile on your face, you held my hands and you have not let go off me since then. Seasons changed, years passed and we grew up. So did our love and friendship.
There were days when others let me down, and I looked for something or someone to hold on to. When life pulls the rug beneath my feet, you were there to dust me off and tell me everything is going to be okay. You said there’s a thing called Hope, which I can always look forward and hold on to.
I learned from you that friends don't judge each other. When I was singing out loud that Bollywood song - ears plugged, eyes closed, lost myself in the music, you did not judge me. I know you were laughing so hard inside, but still you managed to keep a straight face and assured I have a great voice. That was an utter lie. We both knew it, and so did the neighbors two floors up. Because I do the same with you when you belt out A R Rahman’s. But then it’s terrible when you did not hesitate to embarrass me pulling out the ear plug and make me listen to my tone deaf singing. And I hate you for that!
You taught me to handle my stress and fears. You taught me to be strong and especially not let others to see my weakness. You taught me that the truth hurts but for the best. ‘Do I look good in this outfit?’ Most of the time we will not get the honest answer, but you’ll be the first one to tell me how crappy I look. Thanks to you for letting me know even when I don't want to hear that. Girl, that truly helps!
My anger is pretty expensive and you never complained about it. I literally stop everything that comes my way, like the red traffic signal. It creates so much noise and still you know how to reach me through that chaos, manoeuvre me through the commotion and clear the mood.
You even told me it’s okay to fight. It's an expression that we show to someone who we are comfortable with. My Jug, don't just think that I’m not talking about being a boxer. I mean, I really do. We take our turns being the boxer and the victim but no matter how many punches we throw and the long faces we pull, we find our own ways to make up in a matter of time.
The movies we watched through the night and then realized the sun popped out and we say, 'Shucks, I'm going to bed!'. My dear Zindagi, my partner in crime, my movie companion, my gossip buddy, my dance master and much much more. No matter how far we stay, no matter how many days, weeks and months we have not spoken to each other, we always pick up where we left. Don't we? But that’s what real friends do, right?
My lovely friend, when we grow older to even hold our walking sticks properly, I have no doubt that you will still be the one who could turn my frown into a smile and my tear into a laughter. And I’m pretty sure that we'll still be watching F.R.I.E.N.D.S and laughing until our lungs burst or perhaps, our catheter bags.
Loads of love from,