Monday, September 07, 2009

My friend Dee

Dear Dee

Among all the silly and not-so-silly things that we do together and for each other, often what gets missed is expressed appreciation. But this is not a thank you post. This one is for posterity. I am hoping this post survives in some inconspicuous corner of this virtual world and may be some day either or both our grandchildren might trip on it and read. This is also for those times when we may not be ‘in’ each other’s lives as much as now. We don’t really know the future and I am not waiting till I turn 60 to tell you this.

So here goes.

I hope you know how wonderful you are, like many people whose lives you have touched in so many different ways, have vouched already. But I will not dwell on your generosity, your ability to make friends on the most unlikely circumstances, your humility, your deep concern for even those whom you know briefly, your faith in people, your passion for what you believe in, your protectiveness for those you love, your boisterous sense of humour and many more things that endear you to people. Because in these, I am not the lone beneficiary of your extraordinary nature.

But it is those unexpected and almost instinctive moments that melt my heart and often break it. I suppose those are best bud privileges only. Grin.

Like, I didn’t expect you to rouse yourself and step out groggily to help me search for my shawl because you thought I may not be able to sleep without it. That was so damn sweet.

How you seethed ‘can’t you keep the window rolled up when we drive through crowded areas?’ Thank you. I shall remember always. Despite the irritated tone and the slammed door, I know it stems from genuine concern.

I have never had anyone text me from his room to ask for tooth paste, where all he could have done is walked across to my room.

How you can joke, ‘so what, gaadi hai, dusri aajayegi’ when all I wanted was to hit the dirty mechanic who was molesting your shiny new alloy wheel.
I didn’t expect you to be so calm after the cemetery fiasco. I am awfully sorry for suggesting it. If I were reversing the car on that narrow ledge that passed for a path, we would have ended 6000ft below and even there I would have chewed off the head of the person who came up with the brilliant idea. You never cease to surprise me.
How you cackled that the baby monkey crossing the road looked as cute as me. The monkey and I are both grateful that you noticed us despite driving with a painfully troubled back.

Finally to offer yourself voluntarily to get teased incessantly by drunk women takes courage. Real courage. Grin. I would have clobbered them to death.

I wish for you to never change. I know there is one lucky girl waiting to get hitched to you. I wish for her to have the big heart to love you for all that you are.

Yours always,



Rambler said...

i really hope he gets to read this

DreamCatcher said...

@Rambler - thanks :)

Dusty Fog said...