Okay, so my friend from The Friend List: Episode Four doesn’t hate me, in case you were wondering. She’s okay with what I wrote. Now moving on to the next person on the list.
So you’ve met my tiniest friend, now it’s time for you to meet my namesake with an extra K. She’s a make up wiz and can magically turn a hideous troll, like me, into the Queen of bad-assery. She’s always been my companion, at first reluctantly and then after a few years, willingly. Yes, I know that my childhood self sounds like a beyotch who was hated by everyone. Anyway, she’s a nice person, my friend I mean.
We’ve literally been together since kindergarten, because of our names. And then onwards, we were each other’s permanent classmates. Often mistaken as twins, because of our names (again). Appearance wise both us are polar opposites. I look like a fashionable vagabond and she’s basically a make-up clad pixie. I’m tall and she’s less so. I’m a broad Broad and she’s a petite person who looks younger than she really is. I’ve even pretended to be her elder sister in order to get her inside the movie theaters. She’s cute AF.
So, as I was saying that apart from being my namesake, she’s also the namesake of the “Traces of You” singer and Grammy award winner, without the O ( Anoushka Shankar, ya’ll). We have a lot of history, she and I. A few controversies, some jealousy on both sides but also an unbreakable bond. We have always shared everything with each other and even though she left the school I went to , our friendship remained intact.
Here’s a story: She and I used to carpool together. This happened when we were four or five years old. The bus driver stopped at the gates of my home and as I was about to get off from the bus, he slammed the door on my face. He chided me and interrogated me about why was I about to climb out of the bus, into an unknown neighbourhood. I was flabbergasted, befuddled, extremely confused etc. My mother came out and stood on the parapet, waiting for her daughter.
Suddenly, I noticed my mother leaving without me! And, guess what…another girl was by her side. My mother didn’t even realize, that that wasn’t even her own off-spring. Off-topic: This isn’t the first time she’s done something like that. Once, she crossed the road with her mother. Only it wasn’t her mother, it was a crazy homeless lady. So you see that this is a pretty ordinary mistake for her.
The girl was my friend. She didn’t say anything either…but how could you expect a toddler would be the one to point out the grown-up’s mistake? I, for once in my life, made a scene. Yes, I did. I screamed and called my mom. I started beating against the window. My mother turned her head back to see what was the chaos about. And it was then she realized, that I wasn’t the little girl holding her hand. Hilarious, I know.
We have many adventures together, accumulated enough to last a lifetime. A lifetime of tears, tales and laughs. But this story is my favourite one. We’re still very good friends and I even went out with her and had Ethiopian Coffee two days ago.
You might be wondering why I wrote that. The reason behind is that I hate going out. On the rare occasions I do feel like going out, they’re mostly a spur-of -the-moment decision…people often RSVP ‘no’ to such outings. But she didn’t because she’s awesome.
The only friend that I know will always be my friend. That’s her. Keep rocking, you amazing lady!
Bye for now.