F is for Free Cola and Friends #AtoZChallenge

Dear Readers,

Welcome to the second week of the #Blogging from A to Z  April Challenge 2021. My theme this year is based on the Japanese concept of Ichigo Ichie which means--"What we are experiencing right now will never happen again. And therefore, we must value each moment like a beautiful treasure."

I've put together a collage of such moments which can be seen as chance occurrences, coincidences, pre-destined or random (depending on who you ask) for this month's challenge.

Thank you.

Arti

*****

Friends

They might not need me; but they might.

I'll let my head be just in sight;

A smile as small as mine might be

Precisely their necessity.

Emily Dickinson

For today's post, let me take you back to a moment in time in December of 1994.

The husband and I were on our honeymoon in Cyprus. I wrote about it on 'C' Day. You may recall, if you read the C post, that the husband was enamoured by his rental Subaru. 

The sun was shining and the sky was blue. We were driving up north to Nicosia from Larnaca. It would be a long, long drive in the rental Subaru. The husband was happy. 

Sometime in the afternoon, while still on the motorway, we felt the need to eat. So, we stopped when we spotted a food truck.

We knew no Greek and English had been enough to communicate with the locals in the cities we'd visited so far.

We looked at the menu and decided to order a doner kabab to share.  We had discovered the doner on our first evening in Larnaca while strolling down the seaside. We were so impressed with its amazing taste and satiety value that for the rest of our stay in Cyprus we ate one everyday. It was 1994. It was also the first time we'd tasted a doner kebab. And the fact that it cost only 1 Cypriot pound helped, too. We were on a budget. 

The lady in the food truck window smiled and asked me something in Greek. I smiled back, extended some money and asked for a kebab and a bottle of water.

"New...new..." she said chirpily and pointed towards my hennaed hands. 

I replied, "Yes, we got married last week."

"Ninos?" she asked, sticking her head and arms out of the window and gesticulating to suggest babies.

"No! No! Not yet."

We paid for the doner and were figuring out whether to sit at the table or stand and eat when we heard her behind us. She was holding two cans of cola and extending them to us she said, "This is for you from me. Congratulations!" 

We were both left speechless by her kindness.

All we had heard from family and friends when they found out that we were going all the way to Cyprus was to be careful, be alert, don't trust easily, etc. etc.--the usual advice but no one had prepared us for this unexpected act of kindness by a stranger managing a food truck on a motorway linking north to south.

I had to get a photo taken with her.

I wish I'd asked her her name. Maybe I did. But I can't recall it now.

She told us that her daughter had been to the UK to study and had made friends with an Indian girl who told her about the henna and the choorra (red and white bangles I was wearing) were signs of new brides.

Kindness can make friends out of strangers in just a moment. But, the memories of such moments can be treasured forever.

Unless you're headed to the Himalayas for sanayaas (renunciation of the world) or are a monk, good friends are essential to live a healthy and happy life. 

Especially, during tough, unpredictable, wobbly times such as these, we all need a kind word, a helpful hand, a smile, a nod, an open heart that is ready to listen without judgement or advice. 

Friendships are like seeds that sprout underground, sending their roots to hold the soil intact within their folds and shoots to peep above ground and be visible as smiles and hugs. These friendship roots provide stability in unstable times. Communities don't grow out of thin air. They need to be be nurtured with attention, time and love--one moment at a time. There has always been a need for kindness in this world of ours. How blessed are those who receive it and those who pay it forward.

And for those who asked for photos of the Subaru, after reading C is for a Cypriot honeymoon, here are two:

Caption: His beloved Subaru with wife

*****

Do you have a story about kindness of strangers you'd like to share? You know, I'd love to hear. 

This year, I'm participating in #BlogchatterA2Z  powered by theblogchatter.com 

Of friends and friendships

I recently read an article called, 'How to end a friendship' in the Opinion section of The New York Times. The author discussed the lack of guidance available about the etiquette of breaking-up and/or dealing with the natural death of a friendship (platonic) as compared to avalanches of advice available about how to end a romantic chapter in ones life. 

That got me thinking.

The article resonated with me while I was reading it. Yes, I have had my fair share of not knowing what I've done/not done to warrant cold spells from erstwhile warm friends. So Lauren Mechling's (author of the article) suggestion :"when the magic dims, the best thing to do is let go." made sense, common sense to me.

However, almost as soon as I had put the newspaper down, a realisation tingled through me like realisations do. I realised that even though I agree with her wisdom of 'letting go', I don't agree with her notion of  friendships being like "beads on a string". In other words, according to Mechling, friendships should be like romantic relationships: you give your all to only one friendship at a time and when the time comes to let go, on account of dimming magic, you close one friendship and move to the next or at least feel comfortable with the demise of an old bond.

Disclaimer: Before any knickers or g-strings out there threaten to get into any twists, let me state clearly that the article was in the opinion section and therefore what I'm about to share with you is also an opinion: my opinion based on my experiences. No facts have been consulted. This post is purely based on experiential explorations of my heart vis-a-vis my friendships.

My all time favourite poet, Rumi and his best friend, Shams of Tabriz, are shining examples of giving your all to one friend at a time, but I'm wired differently.

Mundane acts like moving cities and continents, changing jobs and locations, changing interests and schedules has opened doors to many new friendships for me. But that hasn't warranted shutting doors on my old friends or 'ending' a friendship.

Of course, friendships comes in different shapes and sizes and depths: depths being of particular interest to me.  

Meaningful friendships, the kind that nourish  are very important to me. Some nourish my grey cells, while others nourish my soul and then there are those friends who feed my ambition to do better: to cook better, to write better, to be more organised or to travel lighter, to buy more consciously, to use resources sensibly, to recycle, reduce and reuse. There are friends whose knowledge of books, authors, art and poetry leaves me in awe and every time I spend time with them, I feel like I've been hugged by a library or kissed by an art gallery.  

So while Mechling looks at the individual bead and sees a single friendship at a time, I look at her analogy of  "beads on a string" and see a collection of friendships co-existing side by side, completing the equation of my life, complimenting each other, never competing for attention.

Ambica, my best friend in high school, opened her heart and offered me her family's love when I needed it the most. Asha and Anu were my rocks through college: my go to buddies for food and shelter who were always ready to listen to my latest 'crush' stories. I used to fall in love often: one sided, admiring from a distance kind of love. The kind my adult children find lame and don't see the point of. The kind Asha, Anu and I spent hours discussing and dissecting and drooling over. We pick up where we left off whenever we meet or talk. Time spent apart shrinks to zero. 

Payal and Fakhra, whose daughters were the same age as Arshia, my two year old, when we moved to London, got added to my string of dear friends when we took our toddlers out to the park together, baby-sat for each other, emptied our hearts out about in-laws, husbands and the general grind of busy London life as young mothers.

Angela, Di, Helen, Jess and Jane appeared on my life's primary school teaching horizon and shine brightly to this day. My string of beads would be bare without their love.

My sister and my cousins, my sisters-in-law, my nieces and some second cousins play the dual role of friends and family. Their presence in my string of beads is precious to me.

Doha's easy going pace and the job-free last three years of my life have conspired to add not just beads but entire strings of beads to my necklace of friendship. There are so many friends I've made here that I'm in danger of missing out a name or two if I start listing them all. 

Friendships, to me, are like mountain ranges. 

On bright and clear days, when the skies are blue and the clouds are invisible wisps of  vapour, I can see all the peaks and hills around me that make up my range of friendships. Some seem far away in the past, others reachable after a day's travel and some shine with snow covered peaks in my future. The mountain I'm climbing or walking on at this point in time is the friendship I'm experiencing right now. I do it with all my being, all my attention, all my love, all my laughter and with all my tears and emotions. For the time I'm on this mountain, with this friend, I step with care on her jagged rocks, I relish in her gurgling streams, I see heaven in her alpine blooms, I take shelter in her forests of trees when the sun starts to get too hot. When I'm with her, when I'm climbing this particular patch, I'm all hers, I'm all his. But, the range that holds this mountain, the string that holds this beautiful bead of a friend is also always present. 

If I look at a bead as separate from the one sitting next to it, am I not in danger of snapping the string? When was the last time you saw a mountain separate from its range?

For me, therefore, all my friendships have painted my life's canvas collectively. There are no solo stars or villains. 

I may not have spoken to some friends in decades or they may have travelled far from me in distance or interest, but I've not had the need to 'end' anything to move on to the next. Perhaps, I've been extremely lucky. 

I suspect, instead of letting go when the magic dims, I've learnt to let go of expectations. 

It wasn't always like this. I've been harsh with my words and put the phone down on a friend when I've felt let down by her actions. I've been moody and broody and no fun at all when I felt I was being excluded from plans and parties. I was there, in that land of expectations and 'why me?' woes. 

"Oh! you don't call any more." I've used that needy, clingy group of words too.

It was exhausting to live in that land of expectations. I wasn't happy. 

Anusha once asked me when she sensed I was hurting about a friend's actions, "Did you sign a contract before becoming friends that she should always include you in her movie going plans?"

It was a rhetorical question, of course. But it showed me what I needed to see.

As if by magic, old friends started behaving more gently and generously. New friends walked into my arms with open hearts, their world views not necessarily compatible with mine but it didn't matter.

How did this magic happen?

Almost as soon as I let go of my-friends-are-bound-by-unsaid-and-unwritten-contracts-of-expectations, my friends changed. They all became beautiful. 

I no longer needed to think up of excuses to get out of catch-up-coffee-sessions-which-I'm-not-keen-on-but-feel-obliged-to-attend-or-I-may-be-excluded-from-the-group-and-not-invited-for-the-next-birthday-or-anniversary-celebration. 

I no longer need any excuses. I speak the truth: sorry-mate-can't-meet-got-to-do-yoga-or-write-or-just-be-with-myself works perfectly these days. None of my friends have disappeared from my life. On the contrary, beautiful souls infuse my time with love, grace, home-cooked food and hugs whenever it's needed.  

As a lover of mountains, I know that the path I'm currently on seems closest to me. The light is right for me to see what I need to see to travel this stretch of land, this mountain, this meadow and to bask in the warmth of this human, this friend, this soul who holds my hand and my attention today.

Why do I need to worry about how to end anything when there is no such thing as an end?

We're all connected. 

For me, at least, letting go of expectations has opened my eyes to the vast vistas of mighty ranges of solid friendships that stand witness to my journey of self discovery.

What are your thoughts about friends and friendships? How has your journey been? You know I'd love to hear about your experiences.

 

Wishing you all the sweet fragrance of friendship, wherever you may find it.

Photos taken in spring of 2019, on my way to Kuari Pass