Chapter 3 - Friend Capers

A Twenty Something's Monologue

Seema, since she was a child, was drawn to writing. So it was only natural that she decided to make a career out of it. A recent graduate with a bachelor’s degree in English Literature, she wanted to be like Jane Austen; only a more radical and 21st-century compatible one.

For her dreams to materialize into reality she needed to start somewhere. Here she was, working as an intern for Classic Vanity, trying to find her groove, absolutely in awe of Tia and her exuberance.

To her dismay, Seema was not supposed to write anything (company policies suck sometimes). As an intern, she was only supposed to research and compile profiles of contemporary authors, places, concepts and sometimes curate information.

She used to barely be able to tolerate the work and would be seen almost always with drudgery written all over her face. Tia was a little late that morning and she chanced upon Seema’s furrowed face and her dismal attempts at hiding her irritation, she couldn’t stop chuckling to herself.

Tia, happened to have had the ill fortune of being an intern at a publishing house that was well on its way into the ditch. She never was given any work, was tormented by her desktop, which chose to break down at the drop of a hat and as is the case with those on the lower rungs: was always questioned and counter questioned.

On most days she was disliked for her feisty nature and envied for her great fashion sense. She would always describe this experience as a process of ‘diamond making’. More in a gloating manner than she let on. Given an alternate choice, she would still work there, because it was there that she met, Priyanka.

Priyanka, (teased as, “the poor little rich girl”) almost touching 5.7” was one of those extremely pretty girls who had more haters than friends. With almost almond-shaped eyes, a creamy complexion and thick straight hair, she was blessed with a fantastically effective metabolism.

Of course, she could pass for a model any day. The symmetrical lassie, lovingly called so by Tia, Priyanka had only one flaw: low self-esteem. Born into affluence, she could well be the poster child for ‘rich, disconsolate, neglected kids’.

With parents on the board of directors of their own tech firm, she celebrated her birthdays with toys and had maids for friends. The need for validation had become second nature to her, much to Tia’s irritation.

Priyanka found solace in her cat and books. The only time you didn’t find her with a book was when she was carrying out her daily ablutions (that’s Tia for taking a bath). Her state of money and mind naturally led her to become a writer, because she could be anything on paper!

A lover of sappy movies and over the top romantic books, she was nothing like Tia who was pragmatic to her very bones. Despite having personalities like chalk and cheese, the two friends go along like a house on fire. Mostly on account of a shared love for murder and gore (only on paper) and obsession for heels.

Tia still remembered the first day when she had moved into an apartment with Priyanka It was an August evening; the sky was swollen with stormy clouds, threatening to rain any moment.

Only, T would be daring enough to move all her furniture and belongings on a day like this.

She was a little miffed with the fact that it had taken her more than four trips to just get her books. When she finally stumbled into the apartment, demeanour matching the weather outside, she heard crying noises coming from the corridor.

A horror movie lover, she was expecting something ghastly, when she found Priyanka crying her eyes out, as the T.V flashed the end credits of a very sappy movie. Tia had laughed like never before and to date never let Priyanka live that day down.

Today was their fifth roommate anniversary! They had planned a small house party for it as well. Tia, as usual, was late and had just hailed a cab, getting one of her famous ‘something forgotten’ feelings. She just couldn’t place a finger on it though.

Back at the shack, name for their apartment (of course chosen by Tia) Priyanka had everything in place. Being the meticulous person that she was, everything had been pre-planned and organized way before anyone came. She also knew Tia like the back of her hand, which is why she’d already bought the cake and wine, knowing well that T would inevitably forget.

The party was one of those homely, cheerful ones. Tia regaled everyone there with stories about their early days in the apartment. Priyanka was the perfect hostess, making sure all glasses were refilled, checking whether the food was warm and the likes.

She had specially prepared a great amount of Garlic bread, one of her famous recipes, and everyone had gone gaga over it. Needless to say, everyone enjoyed themselves, the only hitch being Rachana, who wasn’t able to be present there today.

After the horrid turn of events in her life, Rachana was convinced she needed to start afresh and piece her life back together. While she was on her sabbatical in someplace quiet, the party finally ended.

Tia being the ultimate party person was utterly exhausted, in her words “My light, which brightens the room and rocks the party, has gone out”. This received a pointed look from Priyanka who was well aware this translated into “I am way too tired for cleaning up the mess”. Not that she would mind because when Tia cleaned (if she did ever) she would make a bigger mess.

This was the reason probably why Tia loved Priyanka because she was like the elder sister she never had. The upside to putting up with her motherly emotional and sometimes a tad bit insecure nature was great food and an amazing company to book-hunt with.

T dozed off on the couch and stirred awake in the middle of the night, finding a blanket over her. She smiled thinking, even if she looked with a microscope, she may never find a reliable, caring and amazingly tolerant friend like her. Oh how she wished Priyanka was a boy, T smiled cheekily hitting the lights.

Disclaimer:

A piece of the author’s monologue:

This novella started as an experiment when I was on the brink of turning 20 and was completely floored by Carrie Bradshaw and her thunderous trio of friends. This is the first time that I am making the novella public. As much as my present self wants to edit this and make it age and time appropriate, I am going to show some serious restraint. Some parts of this novella may be too childish, dewy-eyed or too naïve, but I’d request you to indulge me, every week for the next 15 odd weeks and let me know what you think about it. Think of this as my passion project, six years too late in the making.

Read the Fourth Chapter here.