Of 27.28.1

The following post might deviate from the usual pattern in the sense I’ll be publicly referring to one person.

Today is a special day. I’ve tried hinting it for a while now, and you’ve been oblivious.

Honestly, my memory for dates is scary. Yet, I sucked at history. It was so boring. It was just people with long ass names fighting to get Zardari in power. If American history has been shaped by the Illuminati from the shadows, ours was being shaped by the Agarbatti. True, doesn’t sound that dramatic, but makes sense why we suck as a country after fighting for it so passionately. Personally, we’re a bunch of jazbati people with too much free time

Sorry, getting side-tracked.

On, the second of February 2010, we patched things up for the last (and hopefully final) time. We’ve had so many fights over the years that (as an outsider’s point of view) it’s better if we keep our distance. Maybe it’s because they end up being so . . . ‘explosive’ as you put it.

Lions roar, deal with it, Outsider.

So what if we fight? We get along so bloody well otherwise. We always have. And whenever we do end up fighting our misguided wars on terror, we come out of it as better people when the dust settles. We learn lessons and figure out or mistakes. Something certain politicians could learn from us

I love having you as my friend. My closest friend to be precise.

Not that I need a reason to celebrate on specific dates, since your memory ensures I can get away with making any date important. Not to mention that I will ever be caught saying a cheesy line like, “With you, every day is special” (Makes you sound like the tea-creamer ‘Everyday’)

Tarang hi Tarang hai! Yehi Chai ka asli rang hai!

You do make every day special. I love you for it. I am able to survive just about everything with you around. I mean, if I were Anne Frank and you were my friend back then, I’d purposely get caught so I could face Hitler, and punch his windpipe in. Not that my other friends (I just realized that you aren’t the only one who gets my blog-posts directly to their inbox) are totally useless. You just end up shining like an LED torch to their incandescent bulbs (LEDs are energy efficient and bright . . . incase the point went over your head)

So as I was saying. If there is any proof, it’s in the 365 or so days I spent in a relative state of bliss. It’s in the prizes I won. It’s in the people I whipped. It’s in the amount of shit I’ve been able to handle now. All, again, because of you.

As for why I wanted to read your writing (which I haven’t completed yet – will soon) It’s because a friend of mine stated once, that my style lacked emotion. It was one wave of sarcasm and cynicism.

“Oh yay, another Tsunami” yelled the people of Bangladesh, sarcastically

So, I am spicing things up

“Aab nazareen, jab salan ubalney lage to uss mein do teaspoons kutta zeera, aur aadhi botal lal mirch daal ker dum per rakh dein.”

I can go on rambling how awesome you are (I can also keep randomly rambling – a redundant statement that makes absolute sense here). But your ego is like an inflatable hippo and each paragraph is like pumping more air in it. Kidding.

Truth is, You’ve been so awesome that I don’t mind telling the mindless masses, and the minions who somehow stumbled on to this page about your awesomeness. Remember those testimonial thingys on orkut. Imagine this to be one of them. Without the annoying word count.

This is me, telling my best friend how much she means to me, how much I love her. And how big an idiot she is (which still needs to be addressed, publicly or privately is up to you – won’t be humiliating, I think.)

There you have it.

Side Note:- All ideas are copyrighted. This includes the Agarbatti concept, Badass Anne Frank and my appreciation for my friend.