Tujhe Dosti ki Kasam!

The other day, the most random thing had me pondering over friendship and it's many avatars.

Much against the boy's strenuous protests, I decided to watch Sanjay Leela Bhansali's latest magnum opus. The reason - a couple of my acquaintances  had worked on the movie and hey, it was a Bollywood movie! In this land of goras that I'm stuck in thanks to the boy, a dash of Bollywood every now and then helped keep me "Indian". 

I had pretty high hopes from the movie; after all, these friends of mine had received such glowing praise from THEIR friends all over Facebook. In fact I felt kinda guilty that I hadn't taken the time out and watched the movie earlier. 

It started off with the usual blindingly colourful frames, grandiose sets, OTT costumes that are signature Bhansali. However, instead of the lyrical romances that you've come to expect from Mr. B, here was a tapori Gujju drama that was trying simply too hard to be funny. Or make any sense whatsoever. 

Out of respect for my loyalties towards my friends, the boy gnashed his teeth through a full 25 minutes of the movie. But when the 3rd song and dance routine in 25 minutes came on (set to a terrible music score), all his finer emotions went flying out of the window and the boy fled the room, making the lamest of lame excuses. 

I sat through the rest of the 2 hours left of the movie, wondering all the time about what all those people meant on Facebook when they called this movie the best thing to happen to India after vada pav (Yeah, I miss Mumbai.)

This got me thinking of the various sub-species of friends that we cultivate over the years. 

Jai & Veeru - Chaddi buddies personified

There are the Office Friends - you bitch with them about all that's wrong with your workplace, share your lunch and a few wisecracks with them, but you know when you walk out of the building they're are filed away till the next dreaded day of work. 

Then there are College Friends. You shared memories, beers and innumerable assignments with these guys. You meet them rarely these days, but each time you do, you make a million promises to 'do this again soon'.

School Friends occupy a more sepia toned space in your head. It shocks you each time you see the present version of your skinny, unkempt school buddies - they are (with very few exceptions) at least 10 kilos heavier, their head is lighter by at least 10 grams of hair, and they often have a wailing, attention seeking appendage in the form of a baby (or a spouse, in some cases). 

City slickers would have Building Friends or Colony Friends who were your partners in crime in the evenings after school, but these days bump into you only during Annual General Body Meetings, in line for the free food during Navratri or Ganesh Chaturthi or at the local barber's where a face to face conversation could cost you half an ear lobe.

If you live in Mumbai, you definitely have some Train Friends. You exchange notes on the latest movies, together you haggle with canny vendors peddling random crap on the train,  you save a seat for them when you manage to jump on board before them, heck; you even sing along with them all while you make your daily hour hour long commute to work and back. 

Then there are your Chaddi Friends. These guys have known you since the time you were in your chaddis, they've bailed you out of seriously sticky situations with your parents, they've endured your mopey periods of heartbreak, they've been happier than you were for your small successes, they've cried with you and called you names, they've emptied their wallets for you when the need arose and hung around even when you shooed them away. This the the sub species that inspires sing-alongs on motor bikes with side cars attached, these are the guys who play starring roles in that magical motion picture that has all the requisite Bollywood ingredients - drama, emotions, humour, bad hairstyles and larger than life set pieces - our most cherished memories. 

Dear God, grant me an extra day with this honest-to-God, bitchy, tell it like it is sub species than having to put up with 528  'FB Friends' who don't even know my middle name. Any. Frigging. Day.