A friend to whom you need to put an end

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
A short story of a woman who shifts her base to a new country.Being socially deprived she forces herself being friend with a woman who is pole apart from her. It's about her journey of the endeavour and her the emotional turbulence she goes trying to fit in the social circle and finally how she gives up and puts an end to it.

Submitted: July 02, 2015

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Submitted: July 02, 2015

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I just met her and I knew she is not the one. Since I migrated to Singapore I am taking one phrase quite seriously and literally in my life: “Human are a social animal.” I knew she is not the one, but I had no choice. Being socially vulnerable pushes you to an edge where you fall prey to people who have a way of life polarized from yours. She is good, but her way of life is not as complacent as mine. “Beggars are not choosers,” I convince myself. Making friends being the least of my priority, I was trying to make acquaintances. People, I may need on an ad-hoc basis. Like, for my daughter to have a playdate, for me to loan certain utilities; what if my gas cylinder runs out, What if I forget my keys in the house and I need a shelter to save myself from scorching sun. For a woman like me, these situations are as good as a draught. The diabolical side in me obligated an alliance and soon I became the so-called friend with this woman.

Oh! She is not my type. I soon realize. But she hails from the same country and culture as mine and it’s easy for me to cook up talks with her than battling for words somewhere else. The same day we met, she invited me to her house for desserts. Wow! That went quicker than I expected and then it was followed by a play card party, Karaoke nights, Tea-party, potluck party and what not that can be prefixed before the word party.

“This is not me”! I screamed to myself. The devil in me shunned my screams. “You are creating a social circle and it is better to have one when you land yours ass on a foreign soil. It’s called socializing.” The devil commands. “Do it.” And my only motivation to accept these invitations was the mouth-watering delicacies that were part of such conventions. Soon I got used to this oddity where I had to dress up, laugh-eat-drink and play with our social circle off-springs. Like it’s said, it’s easy to form bad habits.

Good days don’t last long. Horror struck me when I was gently reminded the simple rule of “Hosts & Guests”. Time for me change roles. Until now I graciously gulped down my invitations. Food the only delight, subordinated by stupid laughs, chats, fake smiles, swapping talks, entertaining other’s children and the tortured goodbyes where you get up to go but are always interrupted with more talks for an elongated 30 minutes or even more from your scheduled time. And now it’s my turn to solicit the idiocy.

My next morning prayer goes like this. “God! Don’t make me go through this. I have faced enough atrocities. And how on earth do I execute my Idea of “A Courteous host”

It goes like this:

Schedule time: 6.00 to 9.00 p.m.

Food & Beverages: Pizzas and Coke (No starters, main course and deserts)

Please have an agenda to talk upon. No stupid talks, please.

Ask your children to behave. Eat at the table and stick to the children’s room.

Before leaving make sure you clean up your mess and wash your own dishes.

God would definitely be screeching up there to come and kick the diabolical side in me.

I am warming up myself for this big day. But before I knew bad days sneaked its way in my life. So, my so called friend turns up every alternate afternoon. I would term it as my “On the Job training.” So she comes, sits, eats and the toughest chore we share are TALK. While I keep pumping ideas to talk to her, she seems to have her own bag which she is trashing on me one by one. I feel like I am going through a regimented training where you are screwed and squeezed till you give up. Here I am getting trained on “How to embrace nonsense gracefully.” And here’s the baloney at its worst.

“I let the gas escape my stomach by gobbling in buttermilk after my lunch.”

“Art of stashing more vessels in a small drying stand.” Yes! She says it’s an art and not everyone can master it. “Can we affiliate this course?” I ask myself.

“The chronicles of her trip to Bangkok: “We ate Thai food at the hotel, watched a movie in our room, went for a massage in the hotel. You must visit Bangkok.”

“Sure. The way you describe the place, I think It’s worth visiting.” I say cynically.

“Our religion prohibits us from killing the living beings. So I don’t use pest control for ants and cockroaches. How about you, do you keep Ant and Cockroaches?”

“Yes! They are my favourite pet animals.” I swallow these words before I fire it on her.

Her favourite topics:

“Who are best, girls or boys”?

“How everyone in our social circle got married?”

“What we will do on the next weekend?”

It can’t get more sissy. Today she broke the record. She spent 5 long hours here.

Yes! I am just rescued out of the torcher chamber. And I swear on myself I am never stepping in again. I wave my final goodbye to her.

 

 


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