My Forever Gems

For the past couple of weeks, I’ve been noticing a lot of posts on FB where the person had to tag a friend they’ve known since they were 8 or 9 years old and were still friends with them. That was the key point. That they were in fact still friends with those people. More than the post, I’ve been reading the comments. A lot of people commented on them. And in that whole ‘conversation’, the one factor that stood out the most was that barely a handful of them had friends from that age who are still friends with them!

I found that a little sad. I know nothing in the world is permanent. But I do feel there are some things that can last a person’s lifetime and maybe even beyond. When I read those replies it made me think of my friends. I have lost quite a number of people from my life but also gained quite a few. It’s part of life. People come and go just like situations come and go.

But sometimes, in those situations you find true gems. Those gems can be in any form. Maybe someone gifted you a pendant, or a cool new pen, or sent you a handwritten letter or made something, or gifted you a cute little rabbit or a kitten, or even gifted themselves in the form of a wonderful friendship. It could literally be ANYTHING. And these gems can last forever… if you know how to take care of them.

I was lucky. I still am. I found not just one but two magnificent gems in the form of people very early in life. I’ve known one of them practically my whole life. We lived in the same place and our parents knew each other as a result of that. The second gem, I got to know when I was around 9 or 10 years old. That’s 25 years and counting!

As a result of growing up together and being almost of the same age, we learned a lot about each other. We have bantered, we have bickered, we have fought, we have laughed, we have cried, we’ve even had our ‘silent’ zones. But we toughed it out. No matter what the challenge was, we stood together and fought for our friendship. We ensured we were in touch no matter where we were or what we were doing or how difficult it was to do so. We were always in contact with each other.

But the best part of it all was that we got to KNOW each other. REALLY know each other. Inside out. Growing up together helped us grow along with the changes that life brought us. Be it happy, sad, ecstatic or painful. It didn’t matter. Most importantly, we accepted each other for the people we are through all those changes and never judged each other. We stood by each other like rocks. We’ve reached to such an amazing understanding that we can speak our minds freely and know that not one of us will misunderstand and even if we did, we’ll get through it and move on ahead.

Now, after all these years, as life goes on, one is a successful anaesthesiologist (let’s call her C) with barely a free minute to spare for herself. I often tease her asking her what she plans to study next. And the other is in the F and B industry and is one fantastic dad and husband (let’s call him G). C and I just love his kid. He is so adorable and reminds me a lot of his dad. Without whom I wouldn’t be here at all in the first place.

We’ve lived our whole lives together being kids, teenagers, and young adults and now reached the point where one of us is a parent. We’ve been through all these stages of life and we’re going stronger than ever.

So there’s one thing I can say the with utmost confidence that no matter what, we will NEVER terminate our friendship. NEVER give up on each other. NEVER let go.

I just hope that someday as G’s kid grows up, he finds a friend who will be in his life forever too. Just like his dad and his aunt C are in mine.


The Daily Prompt: Take a Chance on Me

The biggest chance I ever took was to LIVE.

When you’re battling something you hadn’t yet figured out what it was, things could be tough. When things get tough and go beyond the threshold of pain, you often think about death. When you start thinking about death, you tend to veer towards things that just might help you take that drastic step.

I’ve been very close to that door but somehow I managed to pull myself away. It took a whole new level of effort to start thinking about healing. Then begin the process of healing. Then being in the middle of all that healing. And then finally reaching the stage of completely healed.

But let’s face it; no matter how strong you got, no matter how much you fought, the scars would always, ALWAYS be there.

But during those moments, the one thing that I needed and never expected to have in abundance was STRENGTH. Strength to face it all.

I needed strength to face the brutality in the words

I needed strength to listen to the harshness in the words

I needed strength to keep me strong within my heart

I needed strength to keep me from falling apart

I needed strength to carry on like nothing’s wrong

I needed strength to show I was happy all along

I needed strength to live while my heart’s beating on

I needed strength to keep me from giving it all up

I needed strength to keep me smiling through all the troubles

I needed strength to keep me calm and not run out on the double

I needed strength to fight off quitting everyday

I needed strength, I pled to God, every night and day


The Daily Prompt: Only Sixteen

I was a nothing at 16. Undergoing severe depression, I was battling within myself to just exist. Actually living a life never occurred to me. It was always the case of “what’s the point?” I never lived, never bothered about trivial stuff, let alone mega things. I ate, slept, and talked to people, did everything a human being did… but as a robot. I was a two-in-one human being living a double life.

Look up all the classic symptoms of depression and I had it. For a long time. It started when I was around 8 or 9 years old. No one saw it. No one guessed it. No was concerned that I was a different person. And me? I was a kid. How was I supposed to see it?

Years went on and no one noticed the scars on the outside. On the inside. All over me. It was there. Some were plain enough to see. Some not so plain. But it didn’t matter. I was called names; “useless, good for nothing, hopeless”. I was compared through and through with, well, practically every human being in my life. “Why can’t you be like her, why can’t you be like him?” and was subjected to wonderful motivating statements like “you’ll never amount to anything in your life” or “what’s the point of you living?” and so on.

What did I do? I just stood there. Like a stone statue. Completely exhausted of life and numbed to the extent that I couldn’t feel pain anymore. Be it physical or emotional. I couldn’t feel anything, actually. Which is strange, because I did feel. It hurt. Every little thing hurt. It hurt to such an extent that I died inside. I lost the will to live.

It didn’t do anything to me; EXCEPT corrode me. Day in and day out.

Now that I think of it all, the damage was clear to see. It started with the school scores. One year I was in the Top 5 and the next year, right at the bottom. I didn’t understand it. Any of it. I skipped meals. I never laughed. I cried all day. I cried all night. Woke up. Repeated the same thing the next day. The signs were all there though for someone else to see. Nobody did. And the damage continued on till I was buried way deep in it. Till I was 18.

At 18, a spark in the form of Psychology flickered in my head. Might sound strange to you but I was in college. It was part of my syllabus. And it was the only subject that I actually enjoyed. It helped me understand the most important person in my life that I desperately needed to understand. Myself. It was only through that subject I realised what I had, what I was going through, what I needed and never received and what I had to do. The struggle to get through it felt like it was a whole new lifetime.

It was.

It took me more than a decade to accept myself, change myself, learn from the millions of mistakes that I made and falling down countless number of times, getting up again and again, lose hope, find it again, refurbish myself and be born as a completely different person. You’d think healing yourself wouldn’t be painful. Healing was more painful than the depression or the loneliness.

They call me lazy without a thought

They think I like being in a rut

I wish I could look them in the eye

And ask, why don’t you try living my life

They think I like being useless and dumb

They do not know that I am numb

To what they say or what goes on

My life’s a silent ticking bomb

They think I’m wasting my time away

When in reality I’m fighting tooth and nail

To stay alive and live a life

A life where my heart’s not so tight


But that was then.

I’m a whole new person now who is completely intent on living life to the fullest.


No Doormat

Gone are the days where I silently tolerated each and every curve ball that people threw at me. Gone are the days where I was afraid of losing. Afraid of losing people. Afraid that someday I might be alone. That someday I would have nobody. I have learned to cherish my aloneness. Not to be confused with loneliness. For me, aloneness is an opportunity for me to enjoy myself. To enjoy my solitude, to do the things I love without any rules or regulations. To enjoy my own company and not worry about having no ME time.

They came to me and said things they would never

Say to others no matter how closer (they were)

They assumed it was ok to say or do anything

Coz they thought, “no matter what, she would never leave”

But they didn’t know me, the new me emerging

The one who had enough of all those painful hurting

They couldn’t just treat me like some doormat

And expect me to be silent and not ever react

I wanted them to know that just because I didn’t show

It didn’t mean they could do anything they’d like to

I have a heart and I have a soul too, you know

That hurts just like yours when something’s wrong

So my dear people don’t think I’m always there

Coz just when you want me I might just disappear

Take me for granted and do as you please

And someday you’ll see just what you’ve done to me



The Daily Prompt: Red Pill, Blue Pill

Apple Muffins... baked this morning.
Apple Muffins… baked this morning.

“I’ll have a salad with a mug of green tea and a fruit bowl, please.”

“I’ll have a large ice tea with a small pizza to go, please.”

“I want that large piece of gooey chocolate cake with a large cup of coffee, please.”

And so on it goes…

“Here you are, ma’am”, says the nice man at the counter, handing his customers a few pills on a tiny plate every time. Each one swallows his/her ‘food’ with a glass of water and there you are! They are done with breakfast or lunch or dinner or whatever you want to call it.

Ummm, yeah, no thank you.

I’d rather cook. The whole peeling, dicing, chopping, blending, stirring, adding spices etc. gives eating a whole new meaning. I’d rather bake. The whole process of mixing the dough and scooping it into a tin and licking off the rest and waiting in anticipation while the aroma of a freshly baked muffin or bread wafts into your nose and gives your brain an instant kick of the happy hormones. And let’s face it… it’s also super fun!

Unless you absolutely hate cooking and cannot stand the thought of all that kitchen work. But really! A pill? Bleargh!

The thought itself sends shivers down my spine. Just imagine trying to whip up a drool-worthy chocolate cake with lots of frosting and when you do, it looks amazing!! Then you go and substitute all that gooey heaven for a pill. A pill that might have all the rich chocolate goodness, all the frosting, all that chocolate heaven but it looks like a regular old boring pill.

Yaaawwwwwnnn! Thanks but no thanks.

*imagines the muffins she just baked in the morning as plain looking pills* Oh! The horror!
*imagines the muffins she just baked in the morning as plain looking pills* Oh! The horror!


Pill image courtesy:- Paul/