Every now and then, some things happen to make me believe more firmly in my reasons-seasons theory. For those of you who I haven’t shared this with, I believe that people come into our lives for three broad reasons – reasons, seasons and lifetimes. There’s no hard and fast rule to define these. It’s just up to each of us to figure out what make sense to us.

So a little about what each of these mean to me – the reason friends – these are the ones who stay in our lives for brief periods. They breeze in, help us deal with any issue that we may be facing at that particular point, and before we know it, poof! They’re gone. We know they’re gone. We know that they’ve made a difference. We’re happy to have known them. But then, they leave. The parting is sometimes bitter-sweet, sometimes not so difficult because you believe that at some point, your paths will cross again. And you kind of deal with it in your own way and move on. The reason is over.

Seasons friends. Often those who spend a number of years with you and are an integral part of specific phases. School, college, first place of work, so on and so forth. You have the best times and go through the worst, stick to each other through the rough and the tough, study together, discuss every stupid thing that invariably assumes such mountainous proportions only at that point. And then? You part ways. Definitely painful. You wonder why you make certain decisions and choose what seems implicitly tougher when there is an easier way. Why you have to grow up. You go your own way anyways. But the relationship still remains. You could bump into the same person a decade later and still feel the magic – like you’ve never been apart. And this is something that is extremely important to me, personally. I may not talk to certain people for years. Not meet them for an even longer time. But when I finally do talk to them, or meet them, the distances simply melt away.

Beyond these are the lifetime people. Friends, family, cousins, mentors, teachers, etc, etc. Who always remain with you. Whose presence you simply never miss. Cause you never feel like they’ve gone away. Which is how I feel about Varghese, my boss of six years. Someone who groomed me into what I am today, who knew what I was capable much before I did, who gave me the opportunity to explore different facets of the job, who cared enough to pull me back on track when I strayed (I’d like to believe that there were not too many such occasions), who rebuked me every time I should have known better and yet, never made me feel small over my mistakes. Six years I spent with him. And found the older brother I never had. We’ve been through so much together over so long that I’d never even fathomed a time when we would not be together. But then, the time came. It’s been close to 2 months since Varghese moved on. First up, I think I can reasonably say that I’m continuing to hold my own ground. And nobody – but nobody – is more surprised over this than I am. Secondly, I think the bond is just so strong and cemented (knock-wood) that I cant believe that he’s not with me. Here again, we haven’t been talking regularly. It doesn’t seem to matter. I remember a conversation we’d had a year ago when he was saying “There will come a day when you might move to some other place. But I don’t think it would matter. I think our relationship has crossed the point where it would matter that we don’t work together anymore.” And that, ladies and gentlemen, is exactly how it is.

Which brings me to the question – what is the relevance of a piece like this right now? What made me write it? It is in the hope that someone I have come to count on as a friend over an extremely short period of time remains a friend for life. I’m not sure if the person will realize that they are being referred to here. Maybe it would matter to me that the person knows. Then again, maybe it won’t.