I Won't Cry for Yesterday...

Cigarette smoke has a weird way of drifting on the air even when the fan is off. It forms funny little patterns and if you stare too hard, you start seeing every imaginable shape in those wreaths as they rise slowly towards the ceiling and disperse into non-existence.

"...also broke up."

"Yeah, that happened quite a few months back, right?"

And in those twenty odd words, we sum up the ending of the love and the hopes and dreams that love invariably brings of yet two more people, at least one of whom we care about deeply. More often than not, we ache for both of them. The elation, the congratulations and the happiness that fly around when two of your friends start going out is in stark contrast to the prevailing mood when something of the sort comes to an end. Once you find out if they are sure that they have made the right decision, something inside you feels like it will never feel the same again.

My best friend says that guys never know how to comfort other guys (or even girls for that matter!). But, if truth be told, there is not much a guy needs from his friends at a time like this. A squeeze of the shoulder, a nod to acknowledge the reality and a comfortable shared silence in which you reach out without any words being necessary to do so. And we wait to let him tell the story in his own way, at his chosen time. If he wants to share it at all, that is. Our friendship will not come crashing down from the heavens if he does not.

There were just two of us at that table the other day and neither of us had just been through a breakup. Yet I somehow understood what solidarity and comradeship means among men. And just how much I miss people barging into my room at 3 a.m. to brutally shake me awake and settling down for completely useless conversations that ramble on long after the first streaks of dawn appear in the eastern sky...

On another level, it is at times like this that you realise that what you have is too precious to throw away with behaviour that suits a 3 year old more than a 23 year old. If you are reading this, thank you once again for keeping us going through my spoilt tantrums. I promise I will do my bit to chip in henceforth. Stay gold!