Today, I find myself reflecting on a cherished tradition that has been a part of my life for over two decades.
To my friends, I owe not a debt, but a lifetime of gratitude.
I will never pay you back because what I have received from you—love, laughter, and unwavering support—is priceless. In every laugh, every shared tear, and every unspoken understanding, you’ve made my world brighter.
It started as a simple habit but evolved into something deeply emotional and meaningful. Every year, as the calendar nears its end, I reach out to a friend with a humble request—a diary for the coming year.
This act, though small, has connected me to the kindness and generosity of my friends in a unique way. Since the year 2000, I have maintained a ritual of writing in a diary.
In 2004, however, this habit took a special turn when Jayan K Narayanan gifted me a diary during my time in Mumbai. It was more than just stationery; it was a gesture that sparked a bright thought—why not write every year in a diary gifted by a friend? From that point onward, I made a promise to myself never to buy a diary but to receive it as a token of friendship and goodwill.
These diaries have become a part of my soul, a repository of my daily thoughts, memories, and the reminders of blessings from the people I hold dear.
Each page I write feels like a thread binding me closer to those who have shared their valuable time with me.
This year, I reached out to my friend Sarvar (Kashmir) now in Delhi with my yearly request.
To my surprise and delight, not just one but two diaries arrived Today (December 31st) . One of them, however, touched me profoundly. It bore the image of a cherished memory—a picture from 2002, capturing a group of friends sitting and posing by the bylanes of a closed market near Nerul’s famous London Pilsner Circle.
As my eyes traced the familiar faces in the photo, my heart swelled with nostalgia. Among the smiling faces was Subahu, a dear friend we lost three years ago during the devastating waves of the COVID-19 pandemic. His absence left a void that can never be filled, but seeing him there, captured in that timeless moment, brought back his warmth and the joy he once brought to our lives.
Overwhelmed by Sarvar’s thoughtfulness, I immediately tried calling him to express my gratitude. His phone was busy, so I sent him a heartfelt message, letting him know I had received the diaries and felt deeply moved by his gesture. Later, he called me back, and with all the thrill and gratitude, I expressed my thanks to him.
As our conversation was coming to an end, Sarvar shared something that left me utterly speechless. He told me that the very day I had asked for the diary, he was facing one of the hardest times of his life—his father had fallen critically ill and was admitted to the ICU. Since then, he had been in the hospital, caring for his father.
Hearing this, I was struck with a wave of shock and emotion. Despite the immense burden of his father’s health and the heaviness of those days, Sarvar had not only found the time to send me the diaries but had also customized one with such a personal and nostalgic touch. I was left without words, overcome by the depth of his generosity and strength.
My heart is heavy with gratitude and admiration for Sarvar. I can only salute his parents and all those who have shaped him into the remarkable person he is. This gesture of kindness, born amidst his own struggles, is something I will carry with me for life. It is a testament to the unbreakable bonds of friendship and the enduring strength of human connection.
As I write this, I wish with all my heart for his father’s recovery and for Sarvar to find strength and peace in these difficult times.
Friendships like these are not just relationships—they are lifelines, grounding me and reminding me of the profound goodness in this world. This tradition, and the people who uphold it with me, are what keep me moving forward with hope and gratitude.
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