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June 10, 2004
From one friend to another
I thought long and hard over what to write about. Finally, I decided to settle for a good old fashioned heart to heart. Today I want to talk about one of my oldest and dearest friends. As is the case with most friends, needless to say, I’d truly be lost without her. She has, after all, stood by me through thick and thin. I’d like to think I’ve done the same for her too.
Lately, however, I feel my devotion to her is waning — just a tad. I do not want it to. In fact I try hard for it not to. It’s difficult though; what with one’s busy existence, it’s a little cumbersome to focus on all of one’s friends. One often tends to lose track somewhere along the line.
The thing is, my friend happens to be in trouble — dire trouble. I want more than anything to reach out and help her, but unfortunately, I can’t quite seem to make the first move. Hopefully, this article, and the emotions I vent will prove to be a step in the right direction.
Of late, we’ve become estranged you see. I find myself not caring about her as much as I once used to, and the resulting guilt is gnawing away at me. What’s even worse is that the guilt has only recently begun to affect me. Due to our estrangement, I had developed an almost apathetic attitude towards my friend.
You probably deserve to know a little bit about this friend I’m harping on about. She’s a good deal older than myself, and for as long as I can remember, I’ve always looked up to her. She has been my inspiration in so many ways. Her remarkable strength and character are unparalleled, and her grit and determination to survive against all odds is the stuff true Hollywood stories are made of.
She’s the product of an unfortunate patriarchal system, though, where some of her siblings have always got more than their fair share, and my friend — less than even her birth rights. She was once the beacon of light in her family. She was renowned for lighting up anyone who came across her. She was vibrant and vivacious, and people looked upon her as a haven of stability and modernity.
That spark still remains, if one looks very, very closely. Eventually her luck began to sour. The more opportunistic members of her family began to take advantage of her. Eat away at her, till she became nothing more than a shell of her former self. It saddens me to think of what she has been reduced to.
Despite her problems, I’ve always managed to find comfort in her warm, motherly embrace. She’s beautiful really, but so very scarred. Years of physical and emotional trauma have duly taken their toll on her. She’s still young, yet extremely weary at the same time. She’s the perfect paradox.
Her cries for help are sadly falling on deaf ears, of which, I too am a responsible party. Too many times have I looked the other way and turned a blind eye towards her hardships. I have certainly not stood by her unconditionally.
When the going got tough, I merely skedaddled, unable to deal with her pain. But isn’t her pain my pain too? When did I become this indifferent? More importantly, why have I only just come to this realization? Can I still make amends? I sincerely hope so, because I don’t think I’m much without her, and I know that she’s even less without me. She needs me, and it’s time to start caring, and moreover to acknowledge that she is indeed in trouble.
I hope that you too can find it in your hearts to help my friend. Many of you might not realize it, but at some point or the other, she’s probably been there for you as well. She’s a giver if there ever was one. Her name, you ask? Ah yes, I never mentioned my friend’s name. I got so caught up in my ode to her, that I forgot to state the obvious. Her name is Karachi. I’m sure you’ve heard of her, and I’m sure you know that she’s burning. Help her if you can. It’s a plea from one friend to another.
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