A Friend

My acquaintances know her by the epithet “Thursday Friend”. Our sons shared classes in primary school from which stemmed our nascent delicate relationship. Years passed, a decade passed - our sons parted pursuing their distinct interests, yet we, now matured moms, clutched onto our friendship. And now what we nurtured with trust and love for years is a beautiful divine gift beyond being just friends!

Reason? Hardly any except her humble nature. 

A gifted son, a C-suite executive spouse in a multinational conglomerate, her dad whose business legacy transcended boundaries of home country - nothing ever seems to touch her, she is always rooted firmly to the ground - as worried as I am for my son, as sweet and tangy about spouse as me, as caring of her parents as me if not more. 

Her finesse, passion, and perfection in cooking, draping, crochet 🧶 is ineffable - I wouldn’t try penning it as it wouldn’t do justice! A fiery feisty independent woman who drove around Indian metro cities - a feat in itself - gradually settled and supported her family through many travels and movements across countries. I’m fortunate she lingered a bit longer in the city I call home now - long enough for me to know her, who is fiercely personal. Nobody, except a handful, knew when she attended a ceremony to hail her dad as he handed over a newly built facility to house destitute - to house those who are abandoned by their families due to their congenital disabilities. It was heartwarming to see the videos she shared with me privately serving the thankful and sheltered people lunch. And we talk about ‘largesse’ - any donation would be dwarfed by such acts of selflessness!

I’ve always been at the receiving end and she never paid heed to that. As a boy, my son benefited profusely from Singapore curriculum books she shared from her son’s bookshelf, enjoyed delectable sandwiches and delicacies I wouldn’t ever be capable of cooking up, was cushioned by a fabric of affection, friendship and support when we moved countries to embrace the unknown. Are any of these subtle impalpable gestures even repayable? Some gifts are best unreciprocated, they are honoured!

Just a weekly call is precious for her - sometimes I’m late or forget if I’m working from home - no complains. I cannot cook elaborate spread or invite her home cordially - no expectations from her. I hardly feel the need to gift her anything as they have everything - why is that even a thing, would be her words if she thought out loud.

Last Thursday our call was unusually short - we decided to hold a longer conversation only by meeting up! Just so she doesn’t end up cooking, I insisted we meet by the sea - days are longer, warmer, and abundant anfractuous coastline proffers plenty of options for nature loving people like us. Dinner at GYG, Manly and Icecream at Copenhagen were all chalked up in minutes. So we locked in on Fairfax Walk that she haunts with her spouse. 

But does she ever listen to me? Does she know to rest?

Just as we wrapped up our walk appreciating the serenity of the broad walk, she handed me priceless handmade laddoos - made from scratch and immaculately presented on a food tray! My eyes  moistened appreciating the extreme effort and love that she poured in. Needless to mention, they taste out of the world, unadulterated with additives. Yellow laddoos are my favourite, but I contained the irresistible urge to touch any until next day as I couldn’t have had them without offering them to my Gopal and Ganesha!

Dona, Sydney, Nov ‘26