My head was lolling to the music when he came, I was partly drowsy
with sleepiness - battered from the 10-hour journey from Down Under, and
partly anxious at the thought of seeing him after all these while. But
when I faintly heard my name and I turned around to see his face
breaking into a big wide grin - I felt light as a feather.
Friendship is a strange thing, I must concur. It grew from the least
expected, and sometimes against the continuum of space and time. People
always say the best of friends grew out of thick and thin, for better or
for worse. But sometimes magical moments sprouted out of the driest and
the barest of all lands. Sometimes an utterly honest manifestation of
what a soul is capable of can only be seen in one spontaneous second -
unplanned, and uncharted.
I am a wanderer, a gift of friendship is something I don't have at my
continuous disposal. A floating and an aimless vagrant, I hold on to the
memories of beautiful moments like a tramp hogging bare shillings on
the floor. Like that one perfect morning in the terminal, they're hard
to come by.
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