The year 2008 changed a lot of
things for me. I began with a new stint academically. I met new people, I
formed new equations.I started pursuing a lot of forgotten interests. I
developed some new ones. I also learnt that I could love again – I only had to
try a little harder, and believe a little more.
This isn’t a story about how a
lot of things changed me, or about how I changed a few things around myself –
that will take up a lot of time, and make for many little stories. This is
about one of those little stories – about how, among all the changes, something
called Polo happened to me.
The first I remember of her is on
an Orkut Community for our college. She struck me as bold, really bold – and definitely
not someone I could be friends with. But then, we got talking. And we would speak
for hours every other day. About the man she loved and wanted to marry, about
the man I loved so much but could not marry, about her cocker spaniel, about my
pomeranian, about our XLRI and IIM Dads, about the active social life that she
led, about the boring existence that was my life. And somewhere, in this
jumbled equation of startling similarities and crazy differences, I found a friend.
A rock-steady friend.
We decided that when we both moved to
Chennai for our MBA, we would be roomies. I was unsure, but I needed the madness, the
difference in lifestyle, the change that Polo would bring into my world. And I
was really looking forward to it.
But then, I received an offer to
study in Bombay. And it seemed like a practical thing to do, because my mom was
alone in the city. So I chose it over the other life that I had already started
to construct so imaginatively in my head.
Once the MBA course began, we
lost touch. But a year and a half later, Polo’s parents moved to Bombay, and
soon, Polo followed, with a transfer to my campus. We finally met, and spent
the last semester together.
In what would turn out to be another
coincidence, we both got placed on the same day in the same organization. While
choosing our locations, she opted for Gurgaon and I for Mumbai.
The day before she left, I went
to meet her. Both of us were on the verge of starting another phase of our
lives. This time too, we were eerily parallel.
With the jobs, staying in touch
became difficult again. Once in a while, we would speak and update each other
on our lives. She seemed to love her role, I hated mine.
Last year, I changed jobs and
moved to a profile of my choice, a job that I love. Earlier this year, Polo got
married to Anand, after more than five years of a beautiful, fulfilling
courtship. I couldn’t make it to the wedding.
Recently, I went to Gurgaon on an
official trip, and met Polo (now Mrs. Anand!) after almost two years. Things
were just the same - conversations were easy and from the heart. I told her my
parents were groom-hunting and that sometimes it got scary. She told me I was “gorgeous
and honest and creative and fun and caring bloody brilliant” and that “I shouldn’t
settle for something or someone less”.
I met Anand as well, and absolutely loved the couple. Polo asked
me for my approval (yes, after five and a half years of courtship and two
months of wedded life!!) and I very willingly gave her the thumbs up.
Last week, I received a random phone call from her early in the
morning, when I was at work. “Tanu!!” She shrieked into the phone, and
continued, “So I called my mom some time back, and said to her, Ma, go find
Tanu a nice guy!”
“Erm…o…kay??” I responded. “Yeah!!” She went on, excited. “And then I called my mom-in-law, and I told
her the same thing! So you are in any case looking right? Always better to have
someone who knows you look out for you!”
I wanted to tell her that her mom-in-law hadn’t the faintest
clue who I was, but her earnestness, her enthusiasm were way too touching. I laughed
and told her she was crazy. And we hung up grinning and went back to work.
After four years of knowing Polo,
I think we were destined to connect in the craziest ways. I think back to that
first day I saw her on Orkut, and of how convinced I was that she was “too cool”
for me to gel well with her. I realize, off and on, that we have counted more
and more similarities between our lives every now and then.
Today, four years later, she is
still crazy, still bold, still unconventional, still forthright. She is also
still one of the warmest, most honest, most genuine people I have known. I wonder what made us click, despite hiatuses in communication and distances in location. And I realize
something that I am now putting in words for the first time…Polo and I may keep
counting our similarities all our lives, but it is the differences that have
kept us really strong. And for those differences, and the intermittent
crisscrossing of our destinies, and for the time that something called Polo
happened to me, I will always be grateful!!
Much Love,
Me.
