“Life is an awful, ugly place to not have a best friend.” ― Sarah Dessen
459 friends on Facebook.
344 followers on twitter.
185 followers on Instagram.
Numerous contacts online on WhatsApp.
But there is only one friend who listens to my rants at three am in the morning and that ‘four am’ friend is Pooja Sathyanarayanan.
She is tall, geeky, bespectacled and has just the right amount of crazy in her. A psych grad who manages to squeeze boyfriends, workload and resolving my problems with magical solutions which help me liberate my emotions into her ultra-busy schedule. It may seem like a simple deed, but to be there for someone in time of their need is beyond anything you can hope for.
I have a nasty habit of verbally abusing people and underrating them constantly, just to keep them grounded. They don’t seem to realize the healthiness of the act and they fail to see that I reserve that kind of love for people I like. Pooja is mostly entertained by new ways I discover to abuse her and she laughs it off with a fake ‘ha-ha’. The best quips largely revolve around her ginormous frame and how uncomfortably bony her shoulders are that you can’t lean on them during desperate times.
Though it physically hurts me to say this, her levelheadedness and tranquillity serve as a voice of reason in my most desperate times. She is my one stop solution for all my psychological therapeutic needs. I have no qualms about sharing my deepest and darkest fears and insecurities with this nut head. In a sea of judgmental and derisive people, she is a refreshing breath of genuineness. Isn’t that what we all crave, a friend who doesn’t judge you and accept you for who you are! Someone who is always there for you and embraces the madness and blasphemous culture with your influence.
This child of joy has been torn from my arms and cast into the chasms of the fiery pit called the U.S. However, she is having the time of her life, partying all night long and carving pumpkins for Halloween. I remember urging her to “see the world” because my maternal instinct kicked in and I couldn’t help myself but sound like a total mom. This is an appreciation post for my nerdiest pal, Pooja (and belated happy birthday to you, love). She is the sanest person I know, just a year older than I am, someone, who doesn’t shy away from trying new things, a daredevil in her own way, a fierce friend, and MY JUG. I love you, you wolf in sheep’s clothing, for being my jug for the past five years and having the heart to not quit being so.