Is there any point in life when one is too old to have real friendships? You know, the kind where you feel that instant connection, anything and everything you do together is, oh, so much fun! The kind of friendships you made when you were in class III. I remember seeing that new girl in my class III B, she'd just moved to town. We went on to become closest friends, and she still is, to date. Its the kind of friendship where I don't need a calendar entry to remind me of her birthday, I miss her every time I have my cuppa chai, I vividly remember the innocence with which I wanted to be her best friend.
Over the course of the last 30 odd years, I have been so fortunate in terms of friendships. The real kind. The kind where you could go to war for your buddy, where you could jump off the cliff with your chum. As we grow up, it's hard to build relationships like those - where you feel like you are meeting a piece of your soul, and all that is left is for that great friendship to take off and soar into the skies.
At age 32, when that happens, one cannot help but be a little thrown off, if you get my drift. You just aren't used to these sorts of soul-pal meet ups anymore, well, it hasn't happened for a bit now! And then, just like the first bike ride I took with my childhood friend, it's all too familiar.
Hello, my dearest new friend. Cannot believe it took us so long to meet, you nut! Strap on that seat belt - it's going to be an absolute riot, this friendship.
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