The Social Network

Alfred Borden: Everything's going to be alright, because I love you very much.

Sarah: Say it again.

Alfred Borden: I love you.

Sarah: Not today.

Alfred Borden: What do you mean?

Sarah: Well some days it's not true. I like being able to tell the difference, it makes the days it is true mean something.

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Like most ordinarily built Indian women, the teacher stood at five feet and four inches. She was an attractive woman in her mid twenties. Given the circumstances, it's only understandable that she felt like a giant. She had come to class I A. And in that class stood I, in the sparkling new outfit dad had helped me get into, as a little lad with a rather large head. Fifteen years have passed since that day but I remember this one certain detail: The teacher, being bored - understandably, as she was surrounded by twenty-three clumsy midgets - gave us an assignment. She said, "Open your notebook and write down the name of your best friend and the reason why that person is your best friend."

This also happened to be my first day in Indian School Al Ghubra, Muscat, Sultanate of Oman. It was also the first co-ed school I attended - my first school being Baldwin Boys', Bangalore. So, it is probably understandable that curiosity got the better of me and soon I was writing - "My best friend in Avantika because she sits next to me." I don't remember the girl's face; just her name.

I look back at that day in quiet amusement: how easy it had been to choose a best friend! As kids, most people who we get along could very well qualify as our best pals. And as kids, we have only two choices about people you meet: you love them or you hate them. There's no concept of secretly hating your friends, harbouring envy for your neighbour's superior penmanship or secretly admiring your enemies. I only wish the world had remained that simple.

That was a world where words and diamonds and gifts weren't the only ways of expressing love and affection. That was a world where a smile or even a knowing nod was a reassuring testament of love without warranting the three words, which have been debased by overuse; a world where friendship was a bond of blood and where there was understanding even in silence.

Life is, after all, not about immense networking and keeping in touch with as many people as possible. One would think it's about staying happy - with few people you will be happy with. Only then can words still carry meaning and promise. But we don't live this life: we live in a world where every acquaintance expects to be loved, to be greeted with hugs - which aren't really hugs - and kisses - which aren't really kisses. You can be held culpable for not uttering the right words when the 'moment' comes - the depravity of it all!

I can say one thing for sure - I will fall in love several times in this life, but there'll few I'll ever call my 'best friends'.