This is one of those times when I wish my blog was anonymous. Apparently, when I started this blog, I told all my friends, promoted my posts on FB and Instagram and whatnot.
Clearly, I regret that now, but that’s a story for another post.
This post is about my relationship with a person whom I’ve known since the very first day of kinder-garten. He’s one of my oldest friend (14 bloody years and counting) and we’ve sort of been in the same class all these years before finally starting engineering at different colleges.
So, a few weeks ago, the real world kicked in and I happened to stumble upon some facts that I didn’t previously know and I thought I should have. This person is one of my limited true friends who I would trust with my life, and as a result I was utterly furious. Why wouldn’t he tell me that? I thought. Fine, you don’t consider me a friend, thank you for your kind behaviour towards me, these 2 years especially. I’d gladly be out of your life now. The cycle still keeps repeating every now and then. Anger. Jealousy. Sadness. Acceptance. Anger. Jealousy. Sadness. Acceptance.
But sometimes suddenly, the truth hits, and it’s harsh, it’s bitter, but it’s the truth. That truth leaves a question in my mind: He was always one of my best friends, but was I ever one of his?
My school years were pretty good. I stayed home a lot, but managed to have 75% attendance every year, plus scored well at the end an managed to win essay competitions and elocutions and stuff every 2 years or so. Also, I was the tallest in my class. All of this probably made me too proud and somewhat inconsiderate towards others’ feelings.
Everyone has an opinion about what makes them funny, what would make others look upon them as someone cool. Since I had no creative sense of humour, I turned to the worst thing I could see: roasting. I started making fun of my friends’ and others’ appearance, behaviour, etc. and that sort of made me the joker of the group. Although my friends (this one in particular) took it sportingly and others laughed, it was wrong nonetheless. Moreover, when someone made fun of me, I couldn’t take it. I called it ‘sensitivity’ back then, but now I know it was hypocrisy.
Then school ended, and Karma began wreaking havoc. This person now has everything I want and I can’t help but look on, still envious. No matter what I’ve believed, all of this time he’s been a true friend to me. He’s never said anything behind my back and has always been there for me. Unfortunately, I can’t say the same about myself and that’s why I decided to write this and admit my fuck-ups.
To be honest, I’m really glad we’re not in the same college anymore because I’ve been enough of a menace for him as well as myself because of my childish tantrums in the past few years. I get to distance myself from people I shouldn’t bother and he gets good riddance.
What I really want to say is, Karma’s not just an imaginary concept. I do genuinely believe everything we do, good or bad, is returned to us in some or the other way. I wronged some people in the past, I’m being returned the favour just like I’m being rewarded for doing some good.
Needless to say I wish my friend luck for his future endeavors and am sure he’ll have a good life ahead.