Friends…forever?

It’s funny how you can have close friends you’ve never seen. Buddies, the kind that you can ask about everything from removing bloodstains (oh, yes, that was the last time you leaked from a paper cut on to your favourite white linen shirt, not the last time you killed anyone) to getting rid of annoying wannabe-boyfriends. The kind who will allow you to be totally crabbily, nastily PMS-ridden without getting too riled up when you call them rude names and then burst into tears if they seem hurt and walk away. The kind you can confess your chocoholic cravings to, but will never ever send you some of the sweet brown stuff because you need to be able to slide into those slim-fit denims you wore in college without having to lie flat on the floor, sweat, swear and breathe in deeply to zip them up.

I have quite a few of those, some I have seen once or maybe twice, some I have never laid my nicely made-up eyes on. And – oh, boy! – do they make the difference! Consider my friend Sahar. I met her one night, fairly briefly, at a dinner evening at a mutual acquaintance’s home. She was an instant soulmate, better than green tea, better than Richard Marx, better even than my favourite pair of red leather ankle boots. We bonded over whines about the lack of ‘nice’ men in the world, the dearth of to-die-for sushi and Shah Rukh Khan’s choice of film roles. For years after that, we ‘met’ only via email and online messenger services, exchanging more grouses, affection and an occasional length of fabric, hers sent me from Pakistan, mine from Delhi, Mumbai and parts beyond. Then, after many years, we met over a two-day hiatus between flights she was booked on in and out of Mumbai, and it was as if we had spent time together almost every day. Today, we speak again over the Internet, planning for that day, whenever it comes, that we can share confidences and condolences over decadent chocolate cake.

And there is Shyam, my buddy of the last few years, with whom I share an intense and very passionate relationship focussed on shoes and sometimes food. Translated: We argue about the design, height, heel and colour of various genres of footwear, passionately and at great length, sending each other links, photos and comments, ad nauseum, ad infinitum. We also demand details of what was eaten at lunch. All this happens over email, messenger, mobile texting and phone calls, usually attenuated and hilariously rushed. It is not that we have not met – we have, very briefly, with an even briefer exchange of hugs, gossip and (he to me) chocolate cupcakes. Today, he counts as one of the inner circle of my friends, perhaps the only man (albeit very young) apart from my father that I would allow access to my shoe cupboard.

Meet Gaurav, the man with an abiding attachment to fashion, sushi and intensely floral phraseology. He is also as abidingly attached to his wife, and works with her to create some truly exotic detail-work on couture garments. We speak about some very interesting aspects of his life, and mine, from his Calvins that separate him from his jeans to the best chocolate brownies, with or without nuts, available in the city. He gives me instant answers to fashion questions, while I am his (ahem) ‘media advisor’ who calls him names and writes about his work. We have never met – I know he is on a diet, he knows I have a wicked streak. He sent me thank-you flowers, I gave him a stern lecture, all on the phone. Today we speak online, occasionally via text messages and over email, with a familiarity and fondness that may, one day, translate into a real-life, real-time meeting, who knows when, where and why!

And then, there is someone who prefers being incognito. I know him, he knows me; he has held my hand through crises and listened to my giggles manifold over the telephone. We once talked often. Today, communication is only a mobile link, limited to texting and no more. In our long history, we have met, spoken and even hugged, on one memorable occasion, when I told him he had a lot to learn about hugging. Has he taken extra lessons in that aspect of relationships? Who knows, as he always says!