When bands meant friend­ship

We bring you the sweet scent of friend­ship, small lit­tle ges­tures that eclipse all seem­ing wis­dom

Hindustan Times (Patna) - Live - - Variety - Heena Khan ■ heena. khan@ hin­dus­tan­times. com

This ain’t just a story of a boy and a girl, brother-sis­ters two year apart. It is how twenty-some­things, who have grown up in the 90s, look back at their mem­o­ries of the first Sun­day of Au­gust.

Mihran Sid­diqui, 12, is a happy-go-lucky boy with at least a dozen friends from the colony, another dozen friend from another colony, many from school, tu­ition, art class ... the list is end­less. Mihran’s younger sis­ter is Nuha, 10, who has grown up in the shad­ows of an ex­tremely pop­u­lar, lik­able el­der brother, who though isn’t a great shake in stud­ies, has an army of bank­able mates. Nuha, an Ara­bic word mean­ing in­tel­li­gence, has truly lived up to her name with aca­demics par ex­cel­lence and ap­ti­tude much ad­vanced for her age. She, how­ever, does not have many friends, has is­sues with most girls in her colony and is con­sis­tently look­ing for a friend in whom she finds men­tal res­o­nance. It is Au­gust 2, 2015, first Sun­day of Au­gust. Happy Friend­ship Day!

The door­bell has been ring­ing since eight-o-clock at the Sid­diqui res­i­dence, with Mihran’s friend pro­fess­ing their friend­ship to him through bands and rings. Both his hands are cov­ered with colour­ful strips of rib­bons. Mean­while, not a sin­gle kid has dropped in to tie Nuha a band. Her heart sinks a lit­tle more with ev­ery door­bell. A Friend­ship Day can’t get sad­der for her with Mihran proudly flaunt­ing his pop­u­lar­ity on his arms. “Mera koi friend nahi hain… mu­jhe koi friend­ship band nahi baandha,” Nuha com­plains to her mother, pulling a long, sad face. She asks her mother tie her a band. I wish I could have tied her one, too. Mid­way through the noon hours, Nuha de­cides to make some bands out of wool for her friends who seem to have for­got­ten her. But the girl is a smart trader and like they say, friend­ship is a two-way street. She ties friend­ship bands to only those who prom­ise to tie her back and takes back her bands from those who go back on their prom­ise.

Mihran has his own set of is­sues. He en­ters the kitchen stamp­ing his feet, seething with manly in­dig­na­tion. “Mumma, Ankur ne mu­jhse band waapis le liya hain … ab hamari friend­ship khatam,” he de­clares to his mother.

These kids will wear their bands to school for at least a week, as a tes­ti­mony to their cool­ness.

No, friend­ship bands will never go out of fash­ion. Adults may feel it is ju­ve­nile to wish Friend­ship Day or hug each other or tie a band… but the first Sun­day of Au­gust thrives in the in­no­cence of child­hood. We some­times over think it in an at­tempt to act adult. But there can be noth­ing more re­fresh­ing than see­ing 50 year olds hug­ging each other on this day! So, if you still haven’t dropped a friend­ship mes­sage to your buddy think­ing you will sound stupid… please do so now! He prob­a­bly didn’t call you think­ing the same. Mihran and Nuha plan to celebrate friend­ship for the whole week! We can be­gin with a sin­gle day.

PHOTO: IS­TOCK

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