Our spot.

My best friend. She knows who she is. I know who she is. It's set in stone.

And she and me have our spots. Spot, special place, corners..call it what you will.

It all started at an advertising agency. Big , ugly chairs. Art directors, Copywriters,Client Servicing. Noise, brainstorming, chatter, deadlines. Copy, art, branding..all of that. Amidst all of that- us. And here, we made a connection. And left it at that.

Then there was a bus. A run down charter bus from Connaught Place to Noida. Cramped with sweaty office goers returning home from work, sleazoids trying to grope women, women trying to brush off those sleazoids, families with kids, college kids, shopkeepers, noise, sweat, grime. Defintely not the most conducive setting for getting to know someone.

And yet, amidst all that we would find a spot. And that would become our spot. For the next hour. Where we would talk. Office gossip. Boyfriends. Bosses. Break ups. College days. Here, we would get to know one another. One bus ride at a time.

Fast forward to 5 years later. Destiny interfered with us. I truly belive that. Because, completely unplanned, completely unexpected, completely unknowingly, we were there. At the same place. And we were meant to be there. To find again, our spot.

And find it, we did. In Tipusan ( and she'll get the drift here). Mattress on the floor against a wall in a medium sized living room which had a wash basin in a corner. Vodka, rum and coke, smokes. Painting, films, joints. Conversation. About life. About the struggles in life. Divorces. Marriages. Friendships. About the charter bus that ran between CP and Noida. About the advertising agency. Here, we were catching up. Here, we were also setting our friendship in stone. Here, we were realising that we were meant to be best friends. Realising that we were meant to be here.

Years passed. Stuff happened. Major stuff, minor stuff. Mostly major stuff. And then, another spot. This time, a more grown up, a more evolved, a more relaxed , a more " I get you" spot. A brightly colored jute chattai rolled out on a kitchen floor. Food on the kitchen counter. Vodka and lime. Rum and coke. No husbands. Kids in bed. Night time. Conversation. Conversation. And some more conversation. About marriage. About Women. Parenting. Love. Life. Kids. Family. Sibling. World cinema. Music. Friends. Fashion. Careers. the past. The present. The Future. Her life. My life. Our lives.

To be continued.




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