It was the worst day of my life.
French class was the best place to ease my frustration. I sat on the last bench, quiet, with my eyes and fist clenched shut. Then a figure sat beside me. I had to look up only for a fraction of a second before the whole story and a river of tears came flowing out.
Happy Birthday, Saanchi. Because you deserve each and every bit of this. And also because you've always wanted to read my blog. And also because I really love you. :)
French class was the best place to ease my frustration. I sat on the last bench, quiet, with my eyes and fist clenched shut. Then a figure sat beside me. I had to look up only for a fraction of a second before the whole story and a river of tears came flowing out.
An incident I swore I won't speak to anyone about, I told her. When I was done, I felt no regret, no fear. Because I knew she wouldn't tell. I knew she wouldn't let anyone know what a pathetic condition she had found me in. She never tried to console me once, in fact, she very easily stated the pure simplicity of the situation. It instantly made me feel better. It was she, who made me realize that sympathy in the form of pity was the worst thing you could offer to someone in trouble.
The kindest heart I have ever come across. She was always there, beside me when I needed her most. No, I never showered her with praise, or flattered her, or called her my best friend. She was still there.
I often felt angry about things that have been unfair to me. I tend to say bitter things about the people I care about, and later it subjects me to a sleepless night. She stopped me from doing that. She always told me to let go, and nobody's perfect. There exists a backbiter in everyone, some great person had said. I can't even imagine how it feels to have been proven wrong.
The kindest heart I have ever come across. She was always there, beside me when I needed her most. No, I never showered her with praise, or flattered her, or called her my best friend. She was still there.
I often felt angry about things that have been unfair to me. I tend to say bitter things about the people I care about, and later it subjects me to a sleepless night. She stopped me from doing that. She always told me to let go, and nobody's perfect. There exists a backbiter in everyone, some great person had said. I can't even imagine how it feels to have been proven wrong.
I have seen her face glow, with happiness and delight, each time some less fortunate child got a new toy when we went for Social Services together. I have listened to her simple requests and refusals at doing something extravagant for her, and have admired her each time for it. I have tried hard to learn some of her best qualities, her attitude and character, and have failed miserably every time.
Right now, while most friends would be on the verge of tears with happiness, she's just going to be shaking her head in disapproval, because she would just think that all this was unnecessary and pompous and showy, and above all, untrue. After all, I've portrayed her as an angel. I was giving her compliments I didn't mean, just to make her happy. That itself was a heinous crime for her.
Saanchi Agarwal, my Florence Nightingale.
Right now, while most friends would be on the verge of tears with happiness, she's just going to be shaking her head in disapproval, because she would just think that all this was unnecessary and pompous and showy, and above all, untrue. After all, I've portrayed her as an angel. I was giving her compliments I didn't mean, just to make her happy. That itself was a heinous crime for her.
Saanchi Agarwal, my Florence Nightingale.
Yes. She's allowed to disapprove and blush all she wants. But its her birthday today, and it was the perfect excuse for me to tell her how much I think of her. How lovely it is to tell her about the marvelous books I've read. Above all, how wonderful it is to have her as a friend.
I'm not comparing you to someone utterly and overly saintly. I'm doing that because you are my Nightingale. You see, you came up to me with utmost cautiousness, with just the right amount of tenderness and firmness to make me stop cursing myself, with a lantern of hope shining brightly from you.
I'm not comparing you to someone utterly and overly saintly. I'm doing that because you are my Nightingale. You see, you came up to me with utmost cautiousness, with just the right amount of tenderness and firmness to make me stop cursing myself, with a lantern of hope shining brightly from you.
Happy Birthday, Saanchi. Because you deserve each and every bit of this. And also because you've always wanted to read my blog. And also because I really love you. :)
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