On Friendship

I have come to realize that I am pretty good at making friends and it’s a wonderful realization that I wish to celebrate. I want to make a thousand more before I die! Making friends out of the vast population of strangers spawns a certain passion in me and it’s exhilarating and very satisfying.

B asked, “Do you want me to bring out my collection of quotable quotes on friendship and friends?”

Well, no, but here’s my favourite - “Life without friends is like breasts without nipples – Pointless!”

B cocked an eyebrow (by now you know that’s a cute gesture of B’s) and smiled in agreement. Surely B knows about it all especially being at the forefront of my adventures and advising me here and cautioning me there. The rewards of these adventures are varied and mostly very satisfying. The meeting of minds between my friends and I has opened new worlds. The discovery of tastes, interests, behaviour patterns, dissimilarities, weirdness and the ability to relate to each other has often given me new highs to see me through the day. I believe it has made me a better person, more insightful, sensitive to others, honest, confident and generally happy. The shared topics have definitely enriched my life.

Sometimes you meet someone and pretty soon you feel you have known each other for ages. It's probably a remnant of an earlier life that lay suspended in the cosmic deep-freeze and found an auspicious time to thaw and move with an earthly momentum, connecting two minds. It often makes you wonder what would have been the nature of this earlier life relationship?

A mother and a wayward son, or a child and an impossible father, or a wife and a philandering husband, or just a pet-keeper and his pet gold fish!!! Or maybe a Madam and a ‘hand’ who together ran a sleazy 'boudoir' in the Old West, or a rich Sheik and his favourite belly dancer from his harem. The possibilities are mind boggling.

The fact that we meet people who later become buddies is very significant. It heightens my belief that almost all of life is about meeting people and the events or occasions that brings us together. The events are absolutely meaningful because they allow for a handshake of feelings and emotions and a kind of ‘germ’ transfer from one to the other…. both ways…and from this seemingly innocuous germ-seed we are able to grow, to envelop some aspect of each other. This process of growing or the nurturing of the friendship is by far the greatest wonder of life. It is ennobling to the spirit, bringing forth feelings and emotions that express a love, caring and respect beyond words or actions. It is joyful.

See, we are born into families. We grow up loving, hating, getting attached and getting detached and we find ourselves at a certain place in life. Parents, siblings, cousins, aunts and uncles, grandparents, etc all feature in our lives. We tend to know them by instinct; by what we have learned from others about them and by what we ourselves have learnt firsthand. After all we have fought the battles, shared in the fun, gotten angry, laughed uncontrollably and farted in each other's presence. They have given us memories which are worth two cents a blink or a million bucks a dream. We celebrate some and we shy away from others. And then. And then after all of this we meet someone from literally out of the blue!

“Ah! And then you arer in love, right?” B teases me.

“The truth?”

Let’s not go into love and all that crap. Friends….

When you focus your attention on someone new - talking at length on almost any subject or topic - you go on a journey ...a journey into the labyrinths of the mind and the chambers of the heart and if you get lost, the journey back is fun too. Of course it doesn’t happen with everyone you meet. There has to be some kind of curiosity, a frisson of attraction (especially if it’s the opposite sex) and something inexplicable – the X factor. For example you could have met the same person at an earlier time and there wouldn’t have been even a cursory glance. And yet, this time….you would be smitten beyond repair. So why is this so? Well….perhaps this time you are at the same point in some mental gestation path and the meeting was a matter of perfect timing. And also there is every possibility you could get hooked to this friendship. At least for a time.

“At least for a time,” B repeats and gives me that look which says…”how long is ours going to be”….. I reply, “You’re not getting away from me my dear, this is a lifetime thing, between you and me.”

“B, does one get hooked to a friendship until the process of making a friend is complete? For a period of time at least? Let’s say you have discovered everything you want to discover about this person, do you then reach a Friendship Plateau and then the interest wanes?”

“Have you discovered everything about me? We have been together for over a decade?”

“Oh! C’mon B, you are different…you are not even normal!” and then I see the hurt in B’s soulful eyes.

“You are above us all…. mere mortals like me. You are special, you know, out-of-this-world- special, and that’s sacred,” I add quickly.

B considers me hoping to find a trace of genuineness and finds it. I am sucker for B and all that is B-like in this world. It shows in every smile and every teardrop of mine.

“Perhaps there is a Friendship Curve,” B declares. Perhaps.

With the tidbits of things you learn about a new friend you tend to create a part of this new friend in you. When the chores of the day are packed and the alarm clock is placed on the night table, you take this new creation for a waltz in the soft moonlight under the starry sky or you scrutinize this creation, your eyes closed and turning this way and that under the bright lights in your head, looking for things you could have missed. You smile and remember what you had laughed at and what had hurt a little ….

And then you assimilate and become a part of, an extension of this friend and in the great privacy of our Mind you are having great discourses on matters as diverse as politics and cooking. Then you wonder, “Will this friendship come to pass?”

Maybe it will and maybe it won’t. You take a break but the break only serves to make you acutely aware of the very special flavour of this new friendship and then you realize, this one will be a friend for life even if there are silences in between. And you are sure this friendship will at first ground your soul and then prepare it for a flight to a happy eternity. Friends.*Sigh*

The Rain Dance

"Haven't you been spending a lot of time here?" asked B. "You soak in here with all those wonderful smelling aromatherapic oils...heck! even I am beginning to smell like lavendar or bergamot or nutmeg or patchouli or whatever...and I am not particularly proud of that. Quite frankly my dear, I prefer my own pheromones to dominate"

"Oh?"

"Come now, while you languish in the warm soothing aqua tub, ...er...jacuzzi with eighteen jets seductively massaging the muscle fibres in your body (and I am wondering if its massaging seductively your moral fibres as well) I notice that look of deep sensual pleasure expressed without any shame on your face. And those soft moans, they don't escape me either...And when you flutter open your eyes, I have seen that look in them ....perhaps I should morph into one of those Epicurean Forms.....errr....a man .... like Mr Pitt or Mr Clooney or Mr Bond....?"

"Oh shaddup and leave me alone. Do you have to analyse the simple pleasures of my life...it's so dammm hot outside and I don't see that an extra hour of soaking in my very own personal space could harm anybody...""

"Tsk, tsk, did I wake you rudely from one of your corporeal makebelief bohemian somatic sensually gratyfying flights of fancy?"

"Wait. Did I hear pheromones?!....B you don't have a gland or even a pore in your body that can produce anything that can even vaguely excite me....Oh NO! ..what's that glint in your eyes....."

This is where B usually imitates the truimphant laugh of a villain and starts morphing into ..... well, it's about the best time to retreat and call for peace and declare vanquished, or one would have to battle B's phallic form...mocking the intellect as much as the body!!!

I say, "A margarita for me and a vodka for you, my dear B and let's toast to my Unending Laundary Rendevouz," to distract B from any induced malice.....

"You smell good, delicious even....these pheremones...doesn't anyone market these...I have seen some of your spam mails...gives me ideas...."

"B, sometime ago I wrote to a very special friend about a draught season - no rain and scorching heat.... hot, very hot ...while in college. Let me share this ...." *Sigh* Must have been the late 70s...how time flies...

.... I remember one year in Madras (for it was Madras then, not Chennai) when it was an awfully hot summer and there was no sign of rain for entire months. Most of us were afflicted with prickly heat and we would, after classes, strip down to our undies and coat ourselves with calamine lotion....its here we learnt the rudiments of wall painting. This was of course at an all female hostel and any male who dared to venture where no other had, would do it at his own risk! We were such terrors collectively and I bet the guy who did dare enter our holy territory - one Mr Nath, who was in fact a Dirty Old Man - never had another erection in his entire life! And rightfully so too. He was tormented with words no man should hear.

Eventually on this particular occasion when we were all at an extreme low point and were contemplating a tribal rain dance ...a dramatic sweep of black foreboding darkness appeared as if from nowhere and in an equally dramatic explosion of loud thunder brought forth torrents of huge raindrops the size of wine goblets. The sight of these ... falling on a ground which was already gasping with thirst, right before our eyes drove us to irrational lenghts. We were intoxicated with euphoria. As the leader of the pack, I forgot myself and dashed out into the rain...everyone else followed suit. We forgot ourselves and like kids were drenching ourselves, falling on the ground, muddying our bodies and creating a blissfull ruckus that went on for a while under its own momentum....until....UNTIL the old hag of a warden came out and almost fainted at the sight she saw. Thankfully the mud had clothed most of our nakedness but she was scandalised nevertheless. Her shreiking brought us down to earth. We feigned a shame that was definitely never felt.... just so her wrath would be lessened.

Well, we were suspended for two days but it was of no consequence because we were all sick to the bones for almost the whole week! It was probably due to Acid Rain.

If Van Gogh had been there, he would have understood the Sane Madness of Nymphs and captured it all on canvass......and it would have been a masterpiece.

"Would I dare repeat this dance in the streets of my housing estate now ? Good Grief, never...No, not because of some hoity-toity position in society but simply because the neighbours should be spared the visual impact of my scantily-clothedness..."

B quickly added, "No my dear, you are perfect the way you are." And I was waiting for the not-so-innocent rejoinder "at least for me"

But it never came. "You are perfect too B. What will I ever do without you?" Yes, what will I ever do?

A Housewife and A Conference

A couple of years ago I went to an English Language conference. It was my first and the reason I am remembering it now is because I have been invited to attend one more this year.

"Be-e-linger! stop that smirk. So I am a housewife and you can't for the love of God figure out why anyone would want me to be present at one, right?"

"Did I say anything at all?"

Let me just ignore the smarty pants B and share my thoughts on that conference....just remember it is a very layperson's observation....

The conference was intended for teachers, teacher educators, researchers, administrators, professionals from the corporate and public sectors who were linked to English Language teaching, and material and curriculum developers who have worked in ESL (English as Second Language) situations. I looked at the list and wondered where I would fit in. If this was two decades ago my presence would have been somewhat relevant. I had worked as a teacher of English.

At that time I had taught English Language for students who were taking the ‘A’ Level examinations under the London Examination Syndicate and Communications for those who were pursuing the Private Secretarial Course and ICSA studies. I had thoroughly enjoyed teaching. Some of my students had been older than me but this had not hampered my teaching capability.

"Ahem!"

"Oh please B, don't underestimate me. Although I was fresh out of college I was pretty confident because I had done very well in English Language studies. I was aware that I wasn’t trained to teach and my points of reference were merely my own experiences with my English teachers who had taught me. They had been excellent teachers, those Scottish and Irish nuns. "

When I was given the conference guide I was overwhelmed by the number of presentations, workshops and demonstrations that were to occur over the next three days. And for the first time I had questioned if I should be there, in the midst of all those educationists.

"It's good to know you get doubts now and then about yourself. A little lack of confidence never killed anybody!"

Like every other profession, teaching too had become sophisticated in its research and approaches. There seemed to be a need to keep up with the newer developing styles of learning and keeping the learners interested.

"B, I can get critical too, you know, and thats what I did."

"Yes, yes, that's one of your finer qualities, my dear."

I had very limited tools of analysis, no theories and such, but all I was trying to figure out was if all this was taking teachers somewhere important - to the classroom. After all, at the end of the day the teachers work is not done if she has not been able to spark an interest in her students on the subject at hand.

There were quite a few presenters form overseas, obviously well-known experts in the field. Together with some of the local professors and associate professors, I surmised that their primary purpose, was to show how the teaching of language can be made interesting through creative usage of methods and materials and how literature and IT can be incorporated into lesson plans to make learning both creative and exciting.

There were also quite a few ‘student’ teachers who were in the process of acquiring their Masters or PhDs. The conference provided a platform for them to report on their research studies. This was probably a requisite towards achieving their degrees. I have to say that most of their ‘findings’ were not newsworthy but it did provide statistics. A good teacher could arrive at these same conclusions through instinct. But then instincts were never accepted in research studies, so they did spend a good portion of their time querying students through various survey methods, proving theories over and over again.

"Did you not find this a life-changing experience?"

"Frankly my dear, no.... I mean I felt that the answers to many questions that kept sprouting in my head weren’t complete or satisfactory. Perhaps I was the 'defective' party there."

My final BIG question was - Will all that was learnt in the three days of the conference be translated to benefit the students in the classroom? That is the crucial question - one that should matter most.

"Your conclusions are sharp, I have to give you credit for that. Come now and take a sip of my vodka and lemon...."

Sometimes it's good to see beyond the sarcasm.