Twelve years ago, give or take some days, two women introduced themselves over the call centre partition that separated their desks.
We both worked ingloriously in the personal loans department of a finance company, and the office had decided to move floors. We’d never met, until that day.
I might have passed her off for your average wedding band toting Indian woman. Except she dressed wrongly. And spoke the Queen’s English too loudly. And exhibited the kind of dark humour that instantly recognised my own.
She might have passed me off for your standard snooty white girl. Except for the book lying on my desk, boldly announcing my current ethical dilemma, The Battle with Beef.
“What’s the book you’re reading?” She asked, and so began a lengthy conversation about my studies, and anthropology, and the general state of the universe.
Then she asked to read one of my essays.
From that day forward, she read every single word I put to paper. And in the course of time, reminded me what it was I once dreamed of becoming. She still does – and a whole lot more besides.
I wouldn’t say her twelve years of belief in me have been well spent. There’s only one thing scarier than having no one who believes. And that’s finding someone who does.
Somehow, despite my flair for self sabotage, she still has faith.
In all the years we’ve known each other, I’ve never been able to put into words what it is she means to me. I’d say it’s past time, wouldn’t you?
Seems like a lifetime ago, yesterday
Our names were introduced.
What’s in a name?
It’s a cataclysm
A beginning and an end
A whole new looking glass.
You gave me, me.
You gave me, you.
You gave me, infinity.
Who knew that worlds apart
We would find a home?
Sometimes I think I ruined you
And even as I do
Your eternal hope meets my eternal gloom…
Never too late, you say.
Take my hand, and shed another skin
Of new tomorrows.
Secret lives and
Sacred lies and
Finally we come into the light.
Sometimes I wish time stood still
So we could be who we were yesterday
Everyday I wish that I could be
The woman you make me want to be
The one who turns to You
It’s all going to be alright.
This is not the end.
This is the beginning
Of the Age of Us.
Twelve years to infinity
And not a moment left to lose
Except with you.
Thank you, Aneeta. My Heroine. My Goddess. My Infinity.
If you had to thank someone for the person you are today, who would it be?