As I wrote write-ups for my friends for the College Yearbook, I realised how hollow it is to attempt to compress into three sentences the relationships I have built over three years. Here are the Real Write-Ups.
Like a fish to water, I took to you. It was quite effortless. Did you know you were the first person in College to call me "Mari"? I knew right then that you were going to stick around. There's no way I would let some random girl that looked like Ritu to call me Mari, unless I knew she would be amazing. We go back to the beginnings so often that we know it by heart. Small skirts and IDG talks. First year with "Where?" texts and coffee. With all sorts of outrageous outings like shady Metro Station beer. Now when I think about it though, it isn't first year that I hold most close to me. It's what happened after Diya and I invaded B.D. Estate and suddenly, it wasn't "The PG". Suddenly, it became "Home".
We know dangerously too much about each other, Raa. Somehow it's always been easy to give away my worst secrets to you. From being friends, we became roommates and then everything changed. We were dealing with the dirties now. Fighting about switching lights off, about hair in the drain, about the maid and everything in between; and on those days, when we were at wits end and made each other cry, we also learnt about every little thing that pisses each other off. We learnt about or worst fears, our biggest insecurities, the ones that only show up when it's 12 a.m. and there's an exam the next day.
We've grown up a hell lot since those first year days (or have we?).You have taken care of me as the perfect mix between a sister and a best friend. The funniest and most memorable things that we've shared are best left unwritten. We don't want our kids (no matter how hard you try, Raashito, your children will know me) to find this post and use it against us.
That room of ours will be the best room. Even with all my creepy paraphernalia. That room of ours, as much as we hated it, has absorbed every ounce of our characters into its walls. All future Mittal PG residents will feel our creepiness resonate from those walls. I feel this is a proud moment for us. We have left our mark.
Our nights on that terrace, too many to count, with the smog of Delhi and one-and-a-half-moons are what I will miss the most. There's a certain sense of loneliness I feel when we are not up there together, because that's just the way it has always been. From watching interesting shadows to playing ridiculous drinking games, that place has done quite an excellent job of being refuge from bad days, bad food, bad landlords and bad anything else.
Take my secrets to your grave, Rashi Rathi. I love you.
P.S. I have too many pictures with you. Kay took almost all of them
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| First Year Dirties |
We know dangerously too much about each other, Raa. Somehow it's always been easy to give away my worst secrets to you. From being friends, we became roommates and then everything changed. We were dealing with the dirties now. Fighting about switching lights off, about hair in the drain, about the maid and everything in between; and on those days, when we were at wits end and made each other cry, we also learnt about every little thing that pisses each other off. We learnt about or worst fears, our biggest insecurities, the ones that only show up when it's 12 a.m. and there's an exam the next day.
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| Spaz is our middle name |
We've grown up a hell lot since those first year days (or have we?).You have taken care of me as the perfect mix between a sister and a best friend. The funniest and most memorable things that we've shared are best left unwritten. We don't want our kids (no matter how hard you try, Raashito, your children will know me) to find this post and use it against us.
That room of ours will be the best room. Even with all my creepy paraphernalia. That room of ours, as much as we hated it, has absorbed every ounce of our characters into its walls. All future Mittal PG residents will feel our creepiness resonate from those walls. I feel this is a proud moment for us. We have left our mark.
Our nights on that terrace, too many to count, with the smog of Delhi and one-and-a-half-moons are what I will miss the most. There's a certain sense of loneliness I feel when we are not up there together, because that's just the way it has always been. From watching interesting shadows to playing ridiculous drinking games, that place has done quite an excellent job of being refuge from bad days, bad food, bad landlords and bad anything else.Take my secrets to your grave, Rashi Rathi. I love you.
P.S. I have too many pictures with you. Kay took almost all of them
you sound happy and excited.
ReplyDeletemarita, check out your poem here:
5whitecurtains@blogspot.com
Awww...that was really sweet and a good friend is a blessing we all desire. :)
ReplyDelete