Poodle and I
have been friends for a long, long time and I honestly couldn’t imagine a world
in which she wasn’t my friend. Poodle, however, is not a Poodle. Poodle is my
person. She’s my person because I could spend hours talking to her and laughing
with her and never get bored, cracking the worst kind of PJ’s and still
laughing like maniacal fools, eating pani puri even when we’re bursting from
eating all kinds of other food. She’s my person because she brings out my
mad-happy-crazy side that hides sometimes these days with all these worldly
life troubles. She’s my person because she knows who I really am and she won’t
ever judge me, even when I do the stupidest things. She’s my person because I
have more special memories with her than with any other friend. She’s my person because with her, there’s
never any obligation to be polite, or thinking before talking, no fake-smiling
and no being someone you’re not. She’s my person because I cannot possibly
laugh for almost two hours straight, with anybody but her. I could go on with
this list. When we’re together, even if it’s after months of not seeing each
other, we transform into the crazy 13 year olds we were and I don’t think that
could change even when we’re 45 and menopausal.
I went on my
first trip with Poodle and I couldn’t ever put it into words how incredibly
special the trip was. We created memories, just like we always have – memories
that we’ll always keep. Sometimes I forget how much I miss Poodle and all our
Chikoodle days. I reckon that by the
time Poodle and I are 40, we’ll probably be compelled to write a book together
with all our crazy, happy memories, because we can’t possibly let old age take
them away!
These are some pictures from our happy day in Calcutta, not that the other days were any less happy. But, this was our day.
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