As I was browsing through the chapters of my childhood, one of them strikingly stood out. ‘Friends’. Perhaps due to its peculiarity and pervasiveness. Coincidentally, as you may call it, around the very same time, the celebrations of ‘Friendship Day’ were going on in full swing. While images and offers flooded the screens, card stores and pastry shops were buzzing with bright faces. My daughter too was coming home every day, almost for a week, with 10-15 friendship bands and rings! Of course, she was very happy to have so many friends and hell-bent on making more. Good for her, I thought.
My perspective on friendship is, in my opinion, a little different. Of course, it includes my friends from school, neighbourhood, college, tuition, university, and so on and so forth. But then it goes beyond that. It is inclusive and expansive in its own way. It nourishes and nurtures itself out of every little life experience that it encounters. And before I sound poetic and redundant, I’ll try to explain what I intended.
For instance, I would like to call my rattle, my mini side-pillow, and my first ever mittens (things which have been treasured by my mother for so long), my first friends. They offered a distraction and perhaps even relief and comfort when I needed those the most. That too at a time when I was unaware of the real cause and certainly unable to aptly communicate it.
My nanny too, for sure, is a friend. She walked into my life when I was barely 14 days old. And though she lacked the finesse and musical talent of Maria von Trapp (remember, the governess in the movie, The Sound of Music), she overshadowed the character in her earnestness. I can hardly discern the day when from a mere help, she became a friend. These, I believe, are the subtleties of friendship possibly because you don’t even know when it is forged!
When I was nine or ten years old, my father brought home a pup. Milky white, soft, fluffy, and my new living toy. Again, when was it that he got promoted from my playmate to my confidante, I have no clue. His blithe presence enlivened our house and soon he became a source of joy to all. As far as the two of us were concerned, he was always there by my side, in my lows and my highs. That’s how a friend should be…right?
And why just animals? What about our ‘green’ friends? Not just relying on the tall claims of science textbooks and environmentalists, but through actual sensations, we can feel the positive presence of plants in our lives. In my school days, I was in the habit of watering my little garden before boarding the school bus and I can’t express enough the energy that 15-minute exercise injected in me! The way the plants swayed and greeted me was by no means less than the embrace of a person doing the same. The unsaid, I gather, is more powerful than the said.
And as the line between the unsaid and the said blurred, books emerged as my best buddies. I am fortunate that they have remained so till date. In fact, I have a buddy who has shortlisted a handful of books, and the moment she is lost or low, she takes sanctuary in them. I share similar vibes with my fictitious friends too. I love them, I hate them but I insist on having them. They talk to me and I’m all ears to them. They are not just an escape or a company but a portal. Through them, I get to live many lives in this singular life of mine. The other day itself, I was yearning to become an Akhila, the protagonist of the book, Ladies Coupe by Anita Nair. Like her, I wanted to look for the answers that define a woman’s existence and establish her wholeness.
Oh, the cup! How can I miss it? The cup in which I have my morning tea, the framed stitch work that I once made in school, the romper in which I first held my child, the photograph albums that hold countless memories, the window beside which I sit down to read are also some of my friends that I would like to acquaint you with. And why wouldn’t I call them my friends? They generate within me the very similar feelings that a friend does. Warmth, well-being and most importantly, a sense of belonging.
I have other kinds of friends too. Incidentally, I found a friend in the never-noticed-before neighbor, who helped me the day my father met with an unfortunate accident. Recently, my students have become my friends too. Our lives unpredictably criss-cross among themselves to build bonds that go beyond the benches and into the beautiful. Even the phlebotomist, (I just discovered the word as I was trying to write about it!) who assures me that my mother is on her way to wholesome recovery, is a dear friend.
There is, however, one friend, who clearly defies the very authenticity and implication of the word ‘friend’. According to the dictionary, a friend is “a person with whom one has a bond of mutual affection, typically one exclusive of sexual or family relations.” But she is family. The cause of my being. My mother. She is there as the arms that hold me, the ears that listen to me, the eyes that follow me, the lips that caution me and the hand that shapes me. More prominently as the person who accepts me and believes in me, each day and every moment. This friendship never had any terms. It outshines any other by its unwavering and unconditional essence. Someone with whom you can share anything without being judged is a true friend… isn’t it?
Hey, how many unfamiliar friends can you think of? Familiarize me with them and let us thank them for all that they are worth by simply acknowledging them as our friends.
By Promita Banerjee Nag
An avid word enthusiast and content-churner, Promita is fuelled by novel writings, ideas and light-hearted banter. A teacher by passion, she treads the path of unequivocal learning with and through her students. Mother, music and ‘mishti’ mostly convince her. If you wish for a tête-à-tête, feel free to reach out to her at promita033@gmail.com.
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