A few months back, I wrote about the engagement of my two close friends in this post. Now that I am in Kolkata to attend their wedding, I thought it’s time to bore all five and a half readers with the love story that started fifteen years back.
I had met D1 when we were all of five years old. She was this snooty girl studying in a girls’ convent and would insist on speaking in English, while I was the rustic wild child, comfortable with her equally rustic friends, and D1 was so not a part of that world. Suffice to say, we did not get along, and as far as first impressions go, it was the worst possible!
A few years later, we moved to this huge two-storey bungalow in Kolkata, and much to my horror, I found that D1 was my next door neighbour. But once the initial resistance was over, we discovered our common love for literature, and while I introduced her to the madness called cricket, she opened up a new world of languages, arts and the phase called, “it’s cool to dislike your folks” to me. And we also met D2, who came to live in the same bungalow. D1 and I took great pleasure in hating him with as much gusto as possible for two 11-year old girls, making fun of him openly. However, his cute kid sister won our hearts, and it was for her sake, that we would put up with him. The next few years were turbulent to say the least, as all of us battled against teenage, weight gain, pimples and parents, finding solace in our late night strolls in the sprawling garden, badminton games, discussions on cricket and our very own Saraswati Puja.
As we moved to different cities for higher studies, D1 and I managed to keep in touch, writing long letters, catching up during holidays and running up huge phone bills. While I stayed with D2’s family when I first moved to Mumbai, we laid the foundation for what is going to be a lifelong friendship. I remember it was D1’s birthday, when I casually cajoled D2 to call her, and there was no looking back. Eight years, a distance of 2000 km and several ups and downs later, they are finally hitched, and I can finally heave a sigh of relief, almost like a proud parent who has pulled off the impossible!
It was the grandest of weddings, it was intimate as family weddings are and despite my sheer distaste for elaborate functions and rituals, this one was close to my heart.
As we sat in the same garden fifteen years later, D1 looked every bit of the radiant bride and D2 was the calm, matured man, a far cry from the annoying, lanky teenager who got on my nerves.
I lived next door to Alice, and today, as she steps into her wonderland, I can only watch in happiness for two of my childhood friends...