I do not think I have acknowledged her presence in my life as it is deserved. She struggles with a lot of things that let her down, but is one person who has been very true to the friendship she and I share. I cannot claim to have done so, and I know she is aware of that too. She chooses to ignore. She chooses to be nice. She is important.
It was always fun to hang out with her, is very dependable too, but she never crossed over for some reason. Surprisingly, in the last few months, I realised it was never too difficult. I guess it just needed time.
She notices me when I feel I am lost. She pampers me when nobody else cares. She has adjusted to my awkward ways rather well. She hugs me every day even though I rarely return the gesture. She is the only one who thinks I am ‘hot’. She is the only one who thinks I am a good photographer. She herself has clicked some of my best photographs. She is the only one who finds all my stupidities endearing.
She is loud. She talks about potty. She likes Sex and the City. She loves vampires. She loves black. She knows how to wear make-up. She loves saying ‘awww’. She loves the RAIN! A ‘type’ very easy for me to feel, ahem!, otherwise for. But it’s Priyam. Not a type.
She is always the one behind the lens. She quietly absorbs. She is the giver. She worships her parents. She does not let go.
From addressing me as ‘Bhardwaj’, she has now moved to ‘Doggu’. Rather drastic. But I know I would not have let anyone else call me that. There are very few things that I have a clear image of in my head. There are very few things that I am sure about. One of them is how I want her future to pan out. From where I am, I wish well.