Imagine my horror when I receive an international call in the middle of the day, when I am on my way for a client meeting, telling me that my best friend has decided to abandon our pact of getting together at 40 and is instead getting married to a BOY?!
I know right. The betrayal.
*audience chuckles and so do I*
So after I’m done screaming my lungs out and tearing up a little, because let’s admit it–this social construct holds a tiny little impressive place in all our hearts–I’m hit by the memory of the two of us sitting in my living room and discussing how we’d like our weddings to be. A wave of panic hits me right after because I no longer remember the exact details of how she wanted things to be. I always knew I would just end up asking her what she wanted or she’d tell me again and again and again till it’s stuck in my head.
But what I do remember from that conversation is that she was the reason I realised that I actually had some vaguely glamorous ideas about my dream marriage and proposal. They were small and petty but they existed. It was after listening to her ideas that I started talking about my own, making them real, and admitting that I want a lot of that bloody Bollywood dream of romance they try to sell. (Which we have both bought, as you can see.) (She’s a big Bollywood baby btw)
So I guess what I am trying to imply here is that she is the reason behind my sanity. This incident is a microcosm of our friendship: one where I find the space to speak about things without the fear of judgement. A friendship that has taught me to love and appreciate more openly; one that has taught me what strength is. And I think that’s a debt I am going to carry to my grave. A debt because I do not know if I’ve been able to be even a fraction of the friend that she is to me. I’ve always hoped for other people to be that person in her life simply because everybody needs a companion they feel comfortable with but not everybody gets one. So today makes me happy because I no longer have to worry about her sanity. She has found herself a relatively permanent solution. And I wish you both sooooooooooo (extends arms sideways) much of happiness.
*wipes tears while giggling*
You’re marrying a woman who has a heart, not of gold, but of iron. It beats louder and with more courage than most hearts. It has been stepped on by many and yet it continues to surrender itself like a martyr fighting for her Country of Love. When I say country, I truly mean it. Because it’s a place she has built from scratch: she lay the foundation bricks and she protected it like a warrior. And if she’s inviting you home, asking you to come permanently reside in her Country of Love–then you, sir, have encountered an opportunity of a lifetime. Be sure to not let that go.