Forced Friendships

Tenzin once decided that Deepti should be our friend. To that end, she announced to us one night after dinner that we were all supposed to drop whatever we were doing and go to Deepti’s room to help her with her NSS decorations. We had no idea who Deepti was. Which was not entirely strange considering that Deepti was in Journo and the rest of us were in Sociology, English and History. Since we were not exactly the ECA kids, we barely ventured out of our immediate circles and didn’t know people from other departments very much. Our initial bond was North-east, college course and Harry Potter; outside of that, we made very less new friends.

On a tangent, Harry Potter was how I made friends with a good number of kids in college. I remember standing with the other freshers outside the LSR Audi for Orientation and discussing with Lima (who I knew from school) the new book which was about to come out. More people heard us talk and joined in and we just sort of bonded. Tenzin, included.

Anyhoo, returning to the main topic, Deepti was very surprised to see Tenzin at her door that night. Which was nothing compared to her surprise seeing myself, Mamu, Gunjan, Atula, Amebari and Mehak standing behind Tenzin. She didn’t know us. We didn’t know her. She and Tenzin barely knew each other from class. But Tenzin, ever the dazzling networker, shamelessly invited herself – and us – in and made herself at home. We helped Deepti make decorations for Diwali fest and we were fascinated by her wit and the sharpness of her brain! 

That was when we understood why Tenzin wanted her to be our friend. Deepti was brilliant. She talked in full sentences with proper grammar and every word was enunciated to their full effect. It was like talking to a BBC correspondent, which I believe she wanted to be when she got out of college. Or a war correspondent. Or something similarly grave but necessitating intelligence higher than the ordinary mortal would likely have.

Deepti never really became a close friend. She was a lone wolf. I suppose it also went with her whole aesthetics and her general ambition. But after that night, we would often find ourselves going to her for advice – from what newspaper to take to what internet dongle to purchase. And always we’d come back to our rooms, marvelling at the things she said and asking each other: what do you think Deepti meant when she said this? She knew some really big words but she used them so efficiently that they never seemed to be pretentious coming from her. She used all of them right.

On her part, Deepti always made time for us, even when we asked her the sort of questions that might appear to her like: what do you think one plus one equals to? She was always patient with us and would often repeat instructions. 

Deepti also agreed to tell her father to tell the then Prime Minister of Japan Shinzo Abe that a group of girls in LSR thought he was hot. I forget what her father did. But she mentioned to us once and whatever politics she was trying to explain to us got lost in the tidbit of information that was: Deepti’s father talks to Shinzo Abe! We bugged her till she promised to relay that information to her dad.

Deepti’s brand of humour did not often coincide with ours. I remember one time she and Tenzin were jaywalking and Tenzin joked that some policeman was going to come arrest them. Deepti looked at her and said, and I quote: Your understanding of the Indian legal system baffles me. Or the time Tenzin and she were on an auto and a beggar woman threatened them with the old “If you don’t give me money, your husband will die!” ultimatum. Deepti looked at her square in the eye and said: That’s his problem, not mine. I wonder what her future husband would think of that. I still chuckle over it.

Of all the things Tenzin forced on us – and she imposed a lot of things on us – Deepti’s friendship was among the best. I mean Tenzin was the woman who came back from some party one night, flung open the door and declared: We hate Shefali! Or some other such name. We agreed because we had no idea who Shefali was and it was not out of our way to hate this unknown chick who had wronged Tenzin.

If we were the HIMYM people, Tenzin would definitely be Barney Stinson. She was crazy and we’d just go along with her craziness. But sometimes she’d settle down for our mundane too. Like how we got her to eat meat purchased directly from a butcher. As a loose-practising Buddhist, she’d never really eaten meat from a source she could identify. She preferred to have her meat highly processed and coming from a freezer. She felt better about meat that way. It is interesting what we take away from each other as friends.

She was always a social butterfly and it was not exactly natural to be our friend. But she was always loyal and non-judgmental, even when nothing about our lives was remotely the same. Or even similar-esque. I liken us most to the grandparents in Willy Wonka, in our beds in the residence hall, eating momos in our PJs, and Tenzin as Charlie who would go visit the chocolate factory! We were there for her to come home to.

Tenzin is in Paris now. I have no idea where Deepti is. The rest of the gang is scattered too. College is now a distant memory, if fond. I believe I learned this from Tenzin best – that if I wanted someone to be my friend, I could just walk up to them, introduce myself and invite myself in their lives. I’ve done it too. And I have a sneaky suspicion I’m in the process again even as I type this.

Thanks, Tenzin.