SC (super clingy) has a fit after typing. She sobs for a few minutes, till SB loses her patience with the melodrama. ‘You let me take care of it’, she tells her. This one is a pro. She has been taking care of SC ever since they were little. The tears are wiped…the lucky sunglasses ( the ex gave) are found. The look is perfected in front of the mirror.

The Look- a slight raise of the eyebrow, the clenching of the teeth and a defiant head tilt, that makes most people go, ‘how arrogant is she!’. Very rarely does anyone look into the eyes. Today, both SC and SB, don’t take the chance.

They both reach the venue. It’s going to be SB’s show, who gets over the pleasantries, quickly. SC, looks at the boy who was ‘her best friend’, ‘her person’, nostalgically. SB, on the other turns her attention on ‘the girl with a strange moral compass’. A few years ago, SB and this one almost crossed paths. SB has no issues with the choices people make, as long they don’t lie. Back stabbing, SB is used to, spinelessness, she can’t stand.

Of course ‘ the one with the strange moral compass’, is nice enough to initiate the pleasantries. SB figures out-it’s for the audience. The audience- the ones who are not present but will still know about each message, each action, each word. She plays along. But in the midst of the play, SB through her tinted glasses starts to detachedly view the entire scenario. Slowly, the person starts becoming an observation, a subject if you may, a character to study. Not much has changed since the last time they almost crossed paths. The facial expressions, the demeanour, the conversations remain the same. Both SB and SC suddenly start to sympathise. The anger, disappears and is replaced with gratitude.

How different life would have been without the (mis)happenings of 2013? One wouldn’t have lost all her friends in a clean sweep but would have never been able to become the woman she always wished be…unstoppable…uncontrollable.

P.S- this calls for a night of debauchery with the new friends.

45 minutes of standing in front of the mirror pumping myself up…’come on Moti u can do it!’, ‘Sava lakh naal ekk ladava!’ with the Zikr playing in the background…I am still quivering. 2013 plays on my mind, repeatedly. You can imagine how I spent my night. To lose all your friends in a sweep and be ostracised in a way, that will forever, make me weary of humans in general, leaves a lasting impression.

But these are gentler times, the kismat has paltoed and these are times to rejoice. ‘Nache bhi jo teri khushi me! Yaroon dosti’, I remind myself of the song we would sing, for some they were words, let’s see if they were just words to me.