Ssh...Bitter Confessions

How do people live in a place for years? How did people work in one place for years?
For me, this is an enduring question.

I like meeting new people and making friends. The whole process of making friends is a fine chemistry experiment - how much of this to add - how much of that to subtract for now - how much of compliments, confessions and treating, knowing the right time and amount of blunt truth to be dished out - how much of coffees, movies, and lending of books - how much of sarcasm to be dished on a Tuesday and how much of wit and humour to be showcased on flagging Thursday spirits.

So is it any wonder that once a friendship connection is managed, I am usually flummoxed on how to proceed? You told me I must make a friend in a new place - Done. But Step 2 is what? Maintaining that friendship? Ah so easy...Step 1 rinse and repeat! But wait. What is this new substance that my 'friend' waves hello to, goes on lunches with, makes calls to while I am 'waiting' and generally, doing exactly all that I am doing with my friend?

I will play the hop, skip, slide to the side but are you now asking me to hop, skip, slide to both my sides with the guarantee that I will fall on my arse every once in a while? At the best, that is. At the worst? Hah, I will fall and will probably cause no single goosebump to rise and disturb the larger scheme of things.

So now, I am at a situation of 'Ahem...ahem...what? oh no, I didn't say anything, just a scratch in my throat, oh no I do not mind at all, please carry on' with a parallel commentary in my head going 'Oh are they planning to watch Star Trek this Saturday night? And I am not even being asked about this? be still, make no movement, oh heck, here goes, shucks should have invited over myself, pharaoh! after spending a whole month talking about nothing but Enterprise? Hrmph! I will catch the Saturday morning show!' and poking out an imaginary tongue.

See, if it was you - you will probably have been laughing and having a real conversation rather than an imaginary one and you would have had a fun evening and offered a boost to your friendship with not one but two people. Maybe not enough that they would forget home and ambitions to war with the world for and with you. But then, that happens only once in 500 years, right? So why lose appetite worrying about that?

But with me, the chemistry of friendships is nuclear science. I may know the base elements but I have no idea what to do with them. Most of the times, I do not care. This is sad because I do have an idea of what could be done in a certain situation, but the effort stymies me. I would much rather subject myself to soliloquies, day dreams, lone jaunts to movies, chocolate binges, exotic food haunts (my translation for fried spicy food) and eventual boredom. In a weird way, I like this. I look forward to days when I can do just this. I will sit closeted in my room, with a juicy chicken leg, a plate of biryani on the table, a cup of chocolate cake in the wings, a sexy story to read and a comedy on the telly on standby and during this all, keep moaning about my lack of friends while answering a telephone call from a friend and saying I am too busy and hence, cannot come over for a Barista coffee trip.

And when this gets too tiring and predictable, the city gets too stuffy to negotiate and I am off to a distant land with no friends and acquaintances to slog and grind at new works and tackle strangers through the day.

Oh Woe! Such is the fun of life.