My Magic Beans

Courtesy: contrarymom.files.wordpress.com

”Amma, I don’t have any friends in class… what do I do?”, I remember asking my mom when I was in kindergarten.

“Friends?!? You will get plenty of them my dear, don't worry…”, my mother consoled me with a smile.

Back then, I didn't know how she knew it; I believed her, nevertheless. And it came true...

When I look back, I am grateful that I had friends at every phase of my life. A recent forward that came on my phone beautifully expressed how God gives us different kinds of friends. Whether they come for a moment or for long walk in your life, they all enter your life for a certain purpose. When you look at all your friends through that lens, all of them seem so special.

When I turn the pages of my childhood, I remember two gifts given to me with great care. One was the dial of a broken watch and another a broken piece of a glass bangle, wrapped in a torn piece of ruled notebook paper. The excitement with which I took that home is an evidence of the sacrifice my childhood friend made when she gifted it to me. That episode of my life has never failed to make me smile.

I am thankful for the naughty bunch I was part of in high school. I believe the innocent pranks we played, especially the crank calls, have added much to the creative side of my brain. I always think of that bunch with so much of warmth. Today we are all not much in touch. But they will always be there in a very cozy corner of my heart.

At this juncture, when I am walking over troubled waters, I am so touched and feel extremely special that I have so many people. The dimensions that friendship holds seem endless.

A friend can be a parent who hugs you and says I am there for you. I will not let anybody force anything on you. In those words and in those eyes I saw how valuable I am. It had the courage and the resolve to stand by me, no matter what! Parents who keep repeating relentlessly that this is a phase and that this too shall pass. Parents who say I don't care what society has to say – you are what matters most.

A friend can be someone whom you haven’t called and talked to in years; someone with whom you have had issues with, in the past; yet don't mind lending a helping hand when you decide to ask for help.

A friend is that extremely courageous one who takes up the initiative to be even talking neutrally on your behalf when she lives among people you oppose.

Friends can appear as lost strength patting you and reminding you to be strong and do what you have to – making you believe that you have the right to certain things and a right to happiness.

Friends remind you that respect is but a two-way bridge that cracks when misunderstood to be one-way. A friend is someone who says she can't speak at that moment 'coz she may wake the kids but insists that you chat - just for you.

When you seem at the end of all hope and stop praying because you know not what to pray for, only a friend can tell you - I am there to pray, you concentrate on healing. "I am praying for the best and the best may not fit the description we have for it today", she said. Friendship can leave you amazed when you hear and see your friend feeling the way you feel, thinking the way you think; taking the effort to think for you because you would have lost the capacity to do so. A friend can make you feel worthy by telling you that you need to move on because anymore she can't recognize your voice. It's a great source of respite to hear, “I need to hear and see you the way I know you.”

A friend can retrospect for you, forecast for you and be your solace in the present state of affairs. She can remind you of things you may have overlooked and things you may regret later.

I am privileged to have a friend with whom I may have just spent probably only a few hours with, face to face. Yes, we did strike a chord. But to have that going even when I was out of the system I knew her from. The encouragement that comes that way startles me.

Friends offer to spend the night with you when you are dealing with bad news or because you have had a rough day or simply as a God sent reminder that you are fun to be with. Friends can offer to go to the movies with you just because you haven't seen one in ages.

Friends can be siblings who tell you that you are special; who surprise you with your first valentine's gift ever. Siblings who have confidence in you and make you realize that your opinion matters; that you can be their voice when they can't speak out. Siblings who come to you for advise even when you feel you are a failure.

Friends can be long gone from the face of this earth but yet manage to make you laugh when you think of the joyful times you have spent with them.

A friend can even be a TV sitcom that you are certain can lift your spirits, make you laugh or take you away to some other realm on a weary day. I was watching one of the very early episodes of F.R.I.E.N.D.S the other day. It touched my heart when Rachel says about her friends, "I've got magic beans". 

Whatever I have today or I don't, in whichever state I am in, I feel blessed and extremely rich when it comes to the many friends I have. They are such a treasure! It is on purpose that I haven't taken names in this post. I am sure when each of them reads this; they will know which part of it is dedicated to them. The instances quoted here are just a few compared to the very many things friends have bought my way. This comes to say how much you all mean to me. Each of you are and will always be extremely precious - thank you ever so much for being my magic beans!

Moments I Wish I'd Photographed

Courtesy: www.stephaniecorfee.com / www.tocofi.com

Last night before I crawled into bed, as is the usual practice, I peeked into my baby’s crib. He, as always, looked adorable. However, the position he was in made the sight all the more precious. He was all stretched out with his little wrist over his forehead and his tiny mouth half open. It looked as if he was resting after a long hard day at work. I ran out to get the camera. But, as luck would have it, he had changed positions before I got back.

Lying in bed, my mind scanned through those many occasions I wish I had clicked. Memories from my hostel life flooded in…

• I remember an evening when three of us roommates (me, she and the other she) declared that we were bored and didn't have anything to do. Smart students like us wouldn't dare feature studies in the to-do list months prior to the semester exams. One of the bored souls suggested applying make-up for each other. No, we didn't have any plans of going out. I remember we were so bored we walked up to the shelf where we kept our stuff, trying to get into the mood. Then, there was an improvised thought. There were two rules to the game. Funny how games suddenly take shape! So, the rules were:

1. Each one of us should apply makeup for one among us itself, simultaneously. To be more precise, it was not a one-on-one.
2. You couldn’t stop until you finished.

I can't really word how we looked that night once the game was over. Extended lips, multiple eyes - we looked horrendous, filthy and downright hilarious! Not one photograph to prove this sudden spark of creativity. If only mirrors stored images!

• It was a warm summer afternoon. I was in the corner of my bed deep into Alex Haley’s Roots. My roomy comes barging into the room; evidently furious. She was supposed to be out on a date with her boyfriend. She was undressing while I was contemplating whether to stay away from the fire or try putting it out. She turned around to face me.

She (to me): 45 mins Bis! I was waiting and waiting and waiting. He didn't turn up. I am humiliated, sad and hungry. The hostel food’s also over.

It went on and on. I sat listening giving my own inputs and suggesting that we go out. I empathized, which acts like sand on the fire. Suddenly we heard the familiar tok-tok sound from somewhere outside the window. That was their code for her to look out of the window. To give you a background, our window overlooked the road which led to the boys’ hostel. With all that fury rushing back, she went to  the window with crimson cheeks and in her stony calm and stern voice interrogated…

She (to him): What? Where were you? Blah blah blah

I kept signaling to her to get back in. But the fury had shut her ears not just to his justifications but to my signs of warning too.

She (to him): No, I am not coming today!

She turned back into the room and suddenly coming back to her senses, she looked down at herself.

She (to me - embarrassed): Bis was I at the window like this?

Me (to her): Well, I tried warning you but you were so busy giving him a piece of your mind.

She (thinking aloud): No wonder he was all stunned in the beginning!

Summer is the time when chemises spot the biggest trend within closed hostel rooms. The look on her face at the point of realization; her furious crimson cheeks slowly turning into a blush - it’s framed in my memory bank.

• That was an era of letters. The Internet was still finding its way to India. Unlike emails, letters took time to come into existence  You had to be in the mood, then you needed to get the right words, etc.. Basically it was looked upon as hard work! One pleasant evening after her bath, the other she (TOS) decided to write her friend a letter. TOS decided to do it in style. She pulled her chair out into the hostel backyard and began writing her letter. TOS had written almost 2-3 pages (I may be wrong, but it was definitely more than one) when she came in to attend a phone call (That era was alien to mobile phones too). After she was done talking over the phone, TOS went back all eager to complete her letter and oh my; the sight she sees! A grazing cow chewing away all those pages of hard work! We looked out of the window hearing some kind of reprimanding. How I wish I had clicked what I saw through the window. A small framed young lady with a few blank sheets of paper in hand yelling at a big fat cow; who simply chewed on with a bleak expressionless face.

• There was another room that I was part of. One of my roommates there, I remember, used to act on her dreams the moment she woke up. Let us call her dream catcher. This incident always succeeds in making me laugh. Miss Dream Catcher was taking a siesta, listening to the songs playing on my stereo. She had this habit of setting the stereo up on her bed and listening to soft music (pathos mostly). The rest of us had woken up and were sipping our cups of tea. Miss Dream Catcher wakes up, unplugs the stereo in a giffy, cradles it in her arm and almost strides out of the room. I stopped her at the door and asked her where she was heading to. She seemed in so much haste. She tried brushing me aside saying “Move. Let me keep this fish in the freezer before it begins to rot.” There she was catching her dreams again. Good thing I woke her up or else my stereo would be in the wash basin under the tap for all you know.
• I'll stop for now with this last one. I was quite an absent minded professor back in college. I admit that traces of that still exist. To top it I was elected treasurer to the Civil department in my final year. It was an honorary position. Knowing myself, I didn't think it was a good idea. Imagine an absent minded being and all that cash. Bligh me! One night as I was folding out my clothes, my friend (she) walked into the room and casually asked me for my purse.

A confused me (who was caught forgetting things so often): Oh did I forget my purse somewhere?

She: Not just any purse Bis! The one in which you keep the department’s cash and records. You left it by the phone. Why you so careless? What if…

I really don't know how my face looked then. Whenever I hear her telling this story, I feel she would have liked it if my expression was clicked and stored. The expression of being caught again and again and again.