A Bowl of Elusive

Majedar, one of my best friends is not speaking to me right now. Why? Because the last time I was in our hometown, I didn't call him up. Instead, I happened to call another friend, Keshav and inquired about Majedar's whereabouts. When Keshav informed me that Majedar wasn't in town, I saw no point in bothering him, so I didn't call. So, Majedar, the drama queen that he is, took offense and hasn't spoken to me since. "Majedar" is not a name, by the way. It mean "enjoyable" in Hindi. The word resembled his surname, so we ended up calling him that for fun. We all have that one friend who's a little dramatic. For me, that's Majedar. We have been friends since the eighth grade. We were a a lot close-knit group of 3 to 5 friends who spent a lot of time together in school. And after school ended, even though, all of us moved to different places and pursued varied careers, we still stay in touch. I've realized over time that childh

"Kritika" & I: A Long Time Ago An old flame (Lets call her Kritika!) recently felt insulted when I referred to her as "an underdog" in one of my articles. This surprised me. She missed the whole essence of my writing. When I call you an "underdog", you must take it as a compliment. Because I myself am an underdog. I have always been one. I wrote back to her, "Its the underdogs of the world who actually rule it." I totally stand by that philosophy.  Anyway, the whole incident kinda got me thinking. I've written about all the significant people who've shared part of my life with me, except Kritika. That's not fair, is it? So here it is. Long term relationships are like drugs. You get addicted to them. You get addicted to the comfort level that you share with that person. You get addicted to being desired. So when you break up with that person, it feels like withdrawal and you start craving for "the drug". Lon