About a friend

It’s a strange friendship.

Logically, we should not really be friends. It’s not as if we share a sackful of interests. In fact, we differ on a lot of things. And although we have known each other for almost a decade now, we have met but a handful of times, except for a short period when we were working together.

In fact, we have been out of touch for long periods of time – sometimes not talking for an entire year. Mind you, it never got more than a year, because I always remembered to call on her birthday.

And yet, I think we are good friends. Even though she almost always forgets my birthday.

I think it is mainly because of her. She believes she has a bit of a temper but somehow has never lost it with me. And when I do call, she generally manages to get to the phone and carry on a conversation in between doing just about every chore imaginable – from cooking to washing to the Lord alone knows what!

We talk of all kinds of things – films, people who propose (and do not propose) matrimony, work (yes, we work in totally different places but still talk about work), music and well, we talk a lot about me. Because I almost always turn to her when I am feeling low. I am sure she gets depressed too, but she somehow never seems to talk about that – and she has had more than her share of problems.

I once pointed out that it was not fair. I mean, I always ended up going to her with my troubles. What did that make me?

And she said: “It makes you my friend.”

You know, I feel like putting that in my Resume´.