I saw your face in a crowded place...

I saw her a few days ago.

She was one of my closest friends. Someone I had known for more than two years. And someone I respected as a professional and a person. At one time, there was seldom a day that passed without us swapping mails or messages or yakking on the phone on just about every subject under the sun.

I have not talked to her for almost four months now. Yeah, we swap the occasional message. And sometimes when she is online, she notices me. She keeps saying we will meet some day to catch up.

We haven’t caught up since May. She is a busy person. At least for me. She does seem to be able to meet other people. Am I jealous? I have no idea. I just know it hurts. She was my friend, you know.

And there she was, a few feet from me. Walking in that style she has when she is alone – staring mainly at the road and occasionally looking up and from side to side. She had not changed much in five months – a bit tired, a bit less cheerful, maybe. She did not notice me – she was too intent on walking.

I pulled out my phone and was about to dial her number. To tell her to stop and say “hi!”.To say just how amazing it was to see her after all this time. And of course, to ask her why she looked so tense.

And then I stopped.

This was a person I had once called my closest friend It was also the person who never seemed to have time for me since May. What would be served by calling her? Maybe we would chat for a few minutes, laugh a bit. And then she would go back to being busy for another...four months, or would it be longer this time?

So there I stood like a fool, within shouting distance from one of the people I had been dreadfully fond of, clutching a phone that had her number open on it. I could not bring myself to hit the ‘dial’ button.

I just stood and watched her until she passed out of sight. Then I quietly put the phone back in my pocket, fighting an absurdly childish urge to sit down and burst into tears.

Perhaps this is what James Blunt meant when he sang:

“I saw your face in a crowded place,

And I don’t know what to do.”

Which, of course, went on to become my status message a few days later.

Do I hate her? I don’t think I do. And I think she does not mind me either. In fact, in some strange way, I think she likes me. We are always very pleasant to each other when we do swap mails or messages. She just does not have time for me.

You know, there’s a bit of me that hopes that she will finally take some time out. Some day. To see me. To just talk about everything under the sun. Like we used to.

And there’s a lot of me that knows that that won’t happen. Heck, the way things are going, perhaps we will never meet again. We might bump into each other some time, but that will be more by accident than design.

And maybe, that’s for the best.

After all, Blunt’s song does end:

“But it's time to face the truth,
I will never be with you.”

All's well that ends well :)

The last few days have been pretty hectic. Lots of things happened, out of which the most significant event has been a switch in job.

I finally quit an organisation that I had been working with for over two and a half years. What has been most eventful about this career move wasn't the move itself but the events that preceded it. After periods of discussions, arguments followed by periods of silence from some of the people I had worked closely with I was losing some enthusiasm. I did take (or tried to take) all that in good spirit but somewhere I wanted things to be alright before I moved on.

So, just a day before my last day (September 7) at this organisation I learnt that a farewell dinner was being organised for me. Frankly, that lifted my spirits like nothing else. However, there were some issues like some people not wanting to turn up as they had planned something else for the evening and that I had an arguent with someone I respect most of the time etc and these did disappoint me. Anyway...

The next day, things weren't any better. By evening, I had already had enough of people and a farewell dinner didn't seem anything more than a formality - I just didn't want to attend it. I can't even remember now or rather don't wnat to remember whatever happened after that but I landed at te venue with a former colleague (whose farewell was also happening with mine) and a few othrs. The person I had fought with also landed at the venue. The colleague whose priority certainly wasn't that farewell till a day before also managed to come. And most of all, I did get back on talking terms with someone who hadn stopped speaking to me ever since I had announced about quitting.

By the end of it all, it all felt nice. I even got an iPod shuffle which till date is giving me trouble :P But, it (a gift) certainly wasn't expected.

I felt nice by the effort everyone put up to just be there. I felt nice about the shuffle :D I felt nice that things were okay. I felt nice that I was no longer hating people.

I just felt nice :)

September 7, 2007 - Happy happy :)

Down two friends and a hero

It’s been a strange kind of week. One of my heroes, Anita Roddick, passed away. And I also decided to finally give up on two people who had been rather close to me in recent times. Neither knows it yet – there has been no screaming or howling or any major show of temper – but I guess each will figure it out in due course.

A number of people have told me that friendship is basically about being comfortable in another person’s company. It’s about being able to have a coffee or meal together. Or having a shoulder to cry on when you feel low.

It is that. But for me, it is just a bit more.

It is a sharing of values, not just sentiment. A friend of mine represents a bit of me wherever he or she goes. In a manner of speaking, your friend is your ambassador, representing what you believe in. It is not just a matter of being able to sit together and talk for hours, although that does help. It is a matter of empathy – of knowing exactly what a person will, or should, do. Of knowing what is dear to a person. Of being aware that what you do can hurt another person.

Some people say that friends should not judge each other. I disagree. No one is above judgement. And certainly not those closest to me.

I think I can still – and I will, in all probability – talk to both of them, and in very pleasant terms too. But well, they are going to be pleasant acquaintances rather than friends. Because both have (deliberately or inadvertently) managed to do things that I think are dishonourable, dishonest and petty.

To be honest, I think they will be better off without me. Who wants to be saddled with a hypersensitive, touchy person who expects the world from them?

As for me, my status message this week said it all: I am down two friends and a hero. And I am not looking for replacements.

Mind you, they would be welcome, if they do turn up. It can get a trifle lonely sometimes.

My hero died

Anita Roddick died earlier today.

She was someone I believed in. A lady who did everything her way. A lady who turned the cosmetic industry upside down.

She believed in fair play and honesty. She started a company, the Body Shop, that laid more stress on products than on packaging. A company that sold cosmetics not by making consumers worry about their looks but by stressing the benefits of its products. A company that did not need an advertising campaign for a long time.

She belonged to the cosmetic industry. But spoke out against the big companies, accusing them of making women insecure about their looks and bodies. She told ageing women to be proud of their wrinkles. She pointed out that the supermodels who advertised products were not representative of the world’s female population.

She was an entrepreneur. But was at the forefront of protests against globalisation, saying it was resulting in the exploitation of the poor. She braved police attacks during G8 summits as she stood shoulder-to-shoulder with her friends, demanding a better deal for the underprivileged.

She made me believe that not all businesses were about making money. Or about deceiving customers. She made me believe that one could be honest and still run a profitable business. She made me believe that at least some businesspeople were more worried about the state of the world than that of the stock market.

She was my hero. And now she is dead. At 64.

Correction: she is my hero. Still.

I am not looking for a replacement.

Rest in peace, Dame Roddick.

You will be in my heart. Always.

...And another ad!

A lady of contrasts.

Likes her food. Is on a diet.

Likes chocolate. Avoids chocolate. (The diet, remember?)

Smiles when she is happy. Smiles when she is sad.

Manages to make rude words beginning with 'f' sound polite.

Always gets called for annoying meetings just as she is setting out for home.

Always attends meetings.

Should switch off her handset. Never switches off her handset.

Turns her head towards the person she talks to.

Turns heads. Period.

Unfailingly polite. Even when angry.

Pallak Arora.

TV Wiz. Hindi mag editor. Laptop lugger. Creative thinker.

Patience on a monument. Pleasantness personified. My (Mobile) Fair Lady.

Her husband thinks she needs to lose weight.

We think he needs to get his eyes checked.