To A, S and A....

I do not have a very elevated opinion of my self. In fact, more often than not, I have to work at allowing myself to believe sincerely that I too am important. There are times when I feel the world and people around me would not even notice the difference if I were to suddenly disappear off the face of the earth (except for my little boy, of course). Something like a framed picture on a wall, you know its there, but you wouldn’t notice it if it were to suddenly be replaced without prior notification. Maybe eventually you would, but it wouldn’t affect you or your life anyway.

But the last 6 months, since Orkut, have been wonderful for my self esteem. And before you jump to any conclusions, no it’s not the many people who wanted to ‘make friendship’ with me, nor is it several others from my past who remembered me and chose to touch base. This is in specific reference to three very important people in my life who in their own little way let me know that I mattered.

While skimming through a couple of blogs I was pleasantly surprised to find that I had merited a mention. One in an extremely obtuse manner, characteristic of the person who wrote it and the other very direct as is the author! Who would have imagined that li’l ol’ I could have any impact whatsoever in anybody’s life?

So I chose to change my last name a couple of years after I got married, mainly because I liked the sound of it, very hep, very cool… And I also chose to broadcast it through a change in my mail address and inform all my contacts. But that it would actually find a blog dedicated to its occurrence blew me away. Euphemisms galore, the piece is probably one of my favorites, discounting the fact that it is about me. A beautiful collage of images in words, embarrassing secrets slipped in innocuously, allusion to some lovely poetry…it brought back to my heart and mind exactly why the person had once occupied such a venerated position in my life. The tears that welled reflexively were those of joy and a strange melancholy that perfectly mirrored the see-saw of emotions I had once experienced in the company of the author. Thankfully, the friendship has now been restored and the old magic still blinds me with the same brilliance that it did more than seven years back!!

The second was by another old friend, a friend I had chosen to erase from my life, one with whom I had shared so much, one with whom I had some of the best and worst times of my life. She used to call me her mother away from home! My initial reaction was one of extreme disappointment and pain to the words I read. Jealous? She was always the more popular one among the men, she was the more attractive, better dressed, more vivacious and likeable person of the two of us. I cannot recall a single day when I envied her, not when we spent hours discussing her love life with a man who had caught my fancy too, briefly; not even when I got a job where she was my senior. Vindictive? While there had been no reason for malevolence of any sort between the two of us, I cannot remember ever gloating or worse still, plotting over the downfall or misery of my worst adversaries. In fact, if anything, she had the reason to be spiteful on some occasions, never I. And my friendship not a constructive force? What about the days and nights she spent at my house being counseled or just being silly, singing tu mera boyfriend and filing our nails, when she hit a rough patch with her then boyfriend? What about the nights I spent during my vacation, with no sleep, getting her ready for her university exams? What about the pep talks when she felt incapable or not intelligent enough? What about the fact that I rushed to be with her when her father passed away? I am not asking for recognition, because my friendship was in earnest and all my efforts were sincere, but to name those years of togetherness ‘not an altogether constructive force’ was debasing everything we had been through together. So what if those were the opinions of others. Who were they to comment in any case? But for one, we shared no common friends, so these ‘others’ never knew me.

Maybe the content was not ideal, but my chosen absence in her life had won a much coveted place in her very well written and beautifully maintained blogspot. And that eventually assuaged the bubbling rage within me. Again, the friendship has been restored, because she didn’t give up and I thank her for that. Yes, you can be godmother, if you still want to.

The third mention was flattering to say the least. I cannot imagine too many people who go on a bike ride and eat at a road side dhaba under the stars on their first date. I can count even fewer people who would think that it was an ideal date, but to find that mentioned in someone’s personal profile made me smug and had me smiling for at least an entire day. Even though the six months following that one date were the most intense, the most emotionally exhausting, the most helpless in my life, the date was still special.

So to A, S and A, a big heartfelt thank you…