Dear Basil

It seems just like yesterday that you were my pulling my ponytails in school and stopped me from doing my maths assignment. You have annoyed me a lot, Basil Mathai!

Do you remember the times I used to take your wristwatch every morning saying it looks cool and returned it to you at the end of the day saying it looks ugly? Do you remember we used to eat Dark Fantasy pastries in front of Monginis? Do you remember your stupid red hoodie with which you pretended to be a DJ in Ramus? Do you remember you told me you had lung cancer? And when I didn't believe you, you brought me a fake hospital report that you printed out at your friend's house? And do you remember how naive I was that I actually believed the stupid report? You, sir, are an asshole. And I am lucky to have you in my life.

I have known you since you had no moustache when all our male classmates had. Of course, I had a moustache when none of our female classmates had, so I am not gonna get into that. You were gay as fuck, man. People made fun of you by calling you Gaysil but what they didn't know was that you were the one who invented that word. It's amazing how you can laugh at yourself over anything and give absolutely zero shit about what people say. Puberty hit you after high school and apparently you became hot. But I still see you as the old Gaysil. Has everyone else gone blind?

I have been a witness to all your ups and downs and you have been to mine. You used to call me after midnight and talked to me endlessly about your dreams and ambitions. I still don't know what your ambition really is except that it probably includes expensive suits in a fancy corporation and big money. Even after so many years you still have that same drive. I know you will be something someday. Which is why I am still your friend. I am waiting for you to get rich and pamper me.

It's hard to be your wingman because most of your girlfriends end up being insecure of me in some silly way. How could they be insecure of me? Didn't they see my moustache? FYI, I rocked that moustache like nobody's business.

Twerking since the '90s

I owe you my low attendance in junior college. You pampered me in small ways. You met me at 8 in the morning to have tea at Vashi station. You taught me how to ride a motorbike. Even though I tripped the bike while taking a turn at a busy road, you persisted and continued making me take the mean streets. You made me watch dvd's of your favourite movies like Confessions of a Shopaholic and Fast & Furious, and kept checking my expression to see if I am liking the movie. Idiot.

My most embarrassing moments have been with you, Basil. You danced in the middle of the road! You shouted out stuff like "Oh no, I think I am pregnant" and "Safwa, did you take your iPill?" in a crowd just to cheer me up! You think embarrassing someone = cheering them. I still hate you for that. You gave me stupid nicknames. FYI, I am not a chicken!

Of all our 'addas', I like your terrace the most. We sat there for hours looking over other dwarf buildings. Seriously, what did we talk about so much? Don't ever think about moving out of that building.


We have been friends for what, nine years now? All through these years, you had my back, you picked me up when I was down and made me listen to bad jokes. How did I survive all that?

Happy Birthday, Basil. I miss you okay? Here's to an everlasting friendship and a lifetime of embarrassing moments. Cheers!