Sanjana: It’s Long Overdue


The first nice photograph we have

Sanjana. There’s so much I can say about her, and yet, I’ve waited up till now to put it in words. She hasn’t failed to remind me, she does that on a decently regular basis. She is my badass, Bihari second half; the most fiercely loyal, vociferous, goofy, bipolar, atom-bomb throwing (that’s an inside joke), book hoarding, dog loving, sarcasm spitting machine I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. That’s how I would introduce her to people if I wasn’t sure she would downright kill me.


The first photograph of us together. Ignore the others.

I remember the French class where we first met and sat together. I’ve always liked people who could get straight to the point, and what she said was close to, “scoot, let’s sit together.” I’m paraphrasing of course, my memory isn’t as good as it once used to be, and I’m no Ted who remembers every gritty detail, even the shape of a deuce he dropped. But I remember feeling instantly relaxed in a new school swarming with new people. I’ve never been someone who likes crowds, and we never needed one, did we?


After the Dundee snowfall. We went cray-cray. Well, I did anyway.

 I find myself to be the goofiest version of myself when I’m around her, and our laughter could bring down buildings. Correction, probably has brought down buildings. She’s the friend I go to remember what it’s like to feel passionate about life. I tend to lean towards the mendacity of life every now and then. She reminds me of the magic I miss out on when I forget what life is all about. Her passion for the people and things she loves is far greater than an average being.


No caption required. You remember this.

I couldn’t have survived in Leeds if it weren’t for her. I truly believe that she always delivers. She’s given me hope in some of my darkest times, been able to make me laugh when I’ve been dying to cry. And even though she occasionally almost overreacts to situations, I love her for it. Because she may overreact to some of the bad things, but god, does she overreact when something goes right. And we all need that, someone who squeals in your happiness and genuinely wants the best for you. I know I can call her and say three simple words, “I need you”, and count on her being there. If she could disapparate to me, she would, and I would always try and do the same for her. Unfortunately travel takes more than a simple click of the fingers; otherwise we would be living together.


London. Best time ever.

I remember burying myself in NIFT the first semester I was there. I forgot about the rest of the world for some time, but she never let me go too far. I always say that if it weren’t for her scrappiness, we could have lost touch (Oh yes I did, I used a friends reference). And look at us now; I can’t really do a good job of imagining life without you. It took us 7 years and so much drama but we’re finally here. The place where even science says we’ll be friends forever. Yeah, Science Bitch. And boy, am I glad we got here.

460558_10151558464715164_1054666685_o   418073_10151226925780164_1227726310_n   417334_10151226924685164_1445083497_n

Our goofy photoshoots. How I love them so.


Loss. There is nothing like it. It’s accompanied by regret, anger and a whole lot of pain. It makes one’s head swirl and stomach churn. After a while, you’ll know how it feels, and you’ll know exactly how to deal with your own pain without shoving it in other people’s faces. You’ll deal with the stabs of pain that pierce through you, you’ll expect your body to tingle with the thought of it, and you’ll anticipate tears splashing down your face at any given point of time. But eventually you’ll realize that you expect too much of yourself. None of this will happen. You’ll look into a mirror and feel a kind of numbness you hoped to never feel. You’ll listen to that voice inside your head that says,” Big surprise. What did you expect?”

You won’t break down because you expect your mind to wander to the “what if’s” and the “why’s”. You’ll be prepared for your mind to convince you of your utter unworthiness. You won’t mind missing those daily conversations that lasted till the nightfall, and you’ll forget how his face looked like. It will become as simple as that; going through the motions.

Loss is the only feeling that makes you feel alive, but you’ll learn to deal with it when you’ve gone through it enough. What you won’t learn how to do, is accept the help you need from the people around you. This time around, I’ve decided to turn a new leaf. I’m not hiding anymore. I’m grabbing on to the people I need and they’ve never let me down. So, let’s call him Kyle. He is my personal happiness haven.

The older you get, the harder it becomes for you to include someone in your comfort zone. The relationships you forge earlier on are the ones you usually carry till the grave. I met him four years ago and he quickly became a part of my most inner circle. Imagine a man who has no particular responsibility towards you, but you never feel the need to back off. I called him four times a day when I had nothing to do, and each time he would answer, it would be the same happy “Hello” I got to hear. I never wondered if it was a bad time, there was no such thing. Picture someone listening to your ramblings about the fly who wouldn’t let you sleep and the girl you hate in college, without saying that you’re petty even once. I know, it’s hard to believe he exists. But he does.

It’s difficult to not take people for granted when they’ve never let you down, or made your stomach churn. I’ve done that, forgotten about him when another man enters the frame even if he’s literally all I need for happiness to encompass me. That’s how I define him now; happiness. I’ve never been afraid of him leaving my side, even if I threw the shallowest bitch fit in the history of bitch fits. He didn’t go out of his way, I just asked him to stay, and he always did.

The kind of friendship I share with him is hard to understand for anyone on the outside. It’s more complicated than the normal stuff you see. Men I’ve dated don’t understand it, it makes them turn into a bundle of insecurities. All this time, all these years, he’s picked up my pieces and he’s put me back together. He’s built me up to believing I’m invincible, that I’m a dream who’s larger than life itself. For someone who’s been accused of being heartless and shallow for the majority of his life, he sure is my best person with a heart of pure gold. I can talk about my deepest, darkest secrets with him and I don’t need to worry about an ounce of judgement coming my way. There is no one who has helped me deal with loss the way he has. And for him, I am grateful always, even if I forget to tell him that ever so often.