Skip to main content

The Friendship Question

                                                                

                                                                                                           
 I see a new face strolling in
And I ask myself- will she be my friend?
Will I be her friend, rather? I can answer the first
But only she can, the second. She sports fancy earrings,
Has a bracelet around her wrist, wears pink.
It may not exactly be my style, but that hasn't affected
The two questions. Sauntering in, she finds
A quiet corner for herself, and starts doodling.
I'm hardly a doodler. I'm in awe of that first one.
At a distance I can hardly decipher it
But I know good art when I see it. I inch
Closer, to spot a skull, a garland of red
And a lot of black. It's still beautiful
But I must admit, too ghastly for my taste.
Yet when I step away and watch her find
A quiet corner in the noise I loathe, I see
That she has found a blissful haven
In the tumult that could have enveloped her.
And the questions remain... 

I fish out a storybook,
Crane down, and begin to read. I spend five minutes
On a single page- my attention has spread itself thin.
Now my eyebrows herald a frown, but my ears
Are wide open. I hear her speak, and conceal 
A smile. She seems to be a free-speaker, while
I am a free thinker. Most of my conversations are 
With my books and myself. Yet, why I smile,
Is because her voice reminds me of a trepid note
Of music- rich with depth but ready to shake 
On disturbance. My questions remain rooted 
To their spots. I hear her speak to an old-time friend
I listen. A long conversation- but tempered with
Understanding. She knows sarcasm, humor, wit
Laying them thin like topping on the pizza 
That is her concern and care. Not a single
Demeaning word escapes her lips- 
No patronizing phrase wedges through her mind.
Her honesty finally delivers the answer that has been
Veering closer. I jump up, take long strides
And find the distance halved, as she approaches-
When I catch her eye, we both know the questions
And now know the answers. But I think it's only fit 
For me to ask- "Will you be my friend?"

                                                                                                                                                                       Image Courtesy: www.healthyplace.com/relationships/building-friendships

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Clandestine

Sometimes we wait too long, To speak our minds. We let lingering truths linger, We let sporadic clocks, chime.. We allow patient seams to fritter away Like a sparrow does with the timber of the tune That she was shrouded by; shrill words tearing  Ears, each word she utters, careful, today. While the first day it was a free reign, until Some unctuous winds carried to her, criticism. Just the same way as copper utensils in a house Of steel, are anyone's delight, until bronzed,  With wear and use, both are the victims Of sundry needs and glances. Just the same way, some things, Are stowed away in careful pockets Because they have borne a lot of perusing When kept in the open.  Like love. Like hurt. Like envy. Like silence. Trust and truth are two things I can list, That are given, that are l'habitude. I tell the truth because it is, it exists, It is what I perceive, it is what I've lived.. And I keep your trust, because I've learnt That it'll help you keep mine, it wil...
Post a Comment
Read more

Predictability Plays Spoilsport

"Comfort's journey from the familiar to the unpredictable..." In the age of AI, if you are an AI Engineer like I am, you would swear by predictability. It's indispensable. We will find patterns in your genetic tree. We'll find them even in your whim of a Gulab Jamun or Barfi. We'll try to connect dots that are distant by miles. Yet, I'm here to tell you that we cannot afford predictability today. Sounds crazy and totally contradictory right? But I can be weird.   I'm here to tell you about randomness. I want you to experience it too. Well, you're smart people, readers. I may not be as smart. You know why we can't enforce patterns.   Someone will read them. Someone will exploit them.  Someone will feed them to an AI (Tool) and figure out what to do with them. You see what I mean? I'm being random. Randomness is not entirely useless.  I want to be equally random. I am stupid, gullible, naive and I'm wandering... You can say that I can be ...
Post a Comment
Read more

Threads of One Fabric

We are all threads of one fabric- The fabric of the human experience. Embroidered by effort, dampened by tears, Emblazoned by ambition, creased by anger- We are all threads of the same single fabric- Which is the fabric of our human emotion. Emotions that flow, those that can't Those that sneak away, waiting to be discovered- And those that comfort us In times of distress. We are drawn by our emotions like puppets tied To a string- becoming caricatures in the live play Which is our every day life. And yet, it is  These emotions that define us. You, me , everybody- Tied together by shared experiences that are Composed of shared sentiment. And yet, pangs of doubt refuse to depart- Is that which I'm feeling, justified? Is it alright? I say to you- I think every feeling has a place. Yours, mine, theirs, everyone's. It's got a role to play. So don't hold it back, pin it down or push it away- There's a definite reason that it's here for you today. Differences defi...
Post a Comment
Read more