Freedom and Flight...

Her mother rushed down the stairs, without bothering to wait for the elevator. She was just hoping that she’d not be too late. After all, she had seen her little girl standing on top of the jungle gym, with her arms spread, ready to jump. She ran through the lobby, straight past the park gate but, she was too late. Her little girl was sitting on the ground, with blood all over her face, two front teeth missing and tears flowing down her chubby cheeks.

She picked up and hugged her daughter."Don’t cry Lilly. You’re all right. Now tell me where does it hurt?", Mother asked tenderly. Lilly did not reply, but looked at her mother’s face for a moment and then said, "I couldn’t fly like a birdie. I want to be free like a birdie!Where are my wings?" Her mother, taken aback looked at daughter who had, to her great surprise associated flying with freedom. Where, was she supposed tell Lilly, that her wings were? She smiled at her and said, "You’re still a baby birdie, Lilly. You’ll grow wings when you grow up." The little girl looked at her mother, deciding whether her mother was telling the truth. "OK", she replied, taking her mother’s word.

A decade passed, without any more flying attempts and Lilly grew to be a beautiful, intelligent and thoughtful girl. The jungle gym incident was a memory she remembered very clearly and one she often thought about. She still did want to fly and for her, flying was being free. But she knew her wings weren’t strong enough yet. Her mother, her confidante understood her. She admired Lilly’s understanding of freedom and independence but, at the same time, she knew how easy it was to become reckless from free and arrogant from independent. But, for now, she knew that her 14-year old girl was far from both.

A couple of years later, Lilly won a national writing competition. She had written an essay on 'Freedom’, something that had always intrigued her. She had written honestly, what she believed freedom was.
"Freedom to me, isn’t the liberty to speak our minds, or the liberty to use public property. It isn’t just something that the constitution guarantees us. It is the liberty of choice. It is the freedom to choose what we become. It is what enables us to embrace our purpose and it is what makes us independent. Our freedom is our identity.", her essay read.

Her mother, proud of her daughter’s perception saw how Lilly’s wings had become stronger. She knew that Lilly wasn’t truly independent yet. She hadn’t had to choose or sacrifice. Though she had comprehended freedom and independence, she had not, so far seen the responsibility, the duty and the sacrifice that were a part of it. But, her mother knew that she would, really soon. And so did she.

A day dawned when Lilly’s wings were ready for flight. But this time, she needed her freedom. To become independent, she had to make a choice and take responsibility for it. The consequences that would follow her decision would be her own to deal with. This time, the resolution was hers.
She went to her mother, nervous because of what she valued most. Freedom. It was powerful and something to fear if not valued. With the power of choice, came the responsibility of consequences, the duty of its moeurs and sacrifice. Was she ready for this, Lilly asked herself. But her mother knew that she was. Now had she truly understood freedom.

As Lilly made her choice, embraced her freedom along with its encumbrance, she flew. Her mother with joy looked at her daughter who had, from a four year old who had jumped from the jungle gym to fly like a birdie, become a free bird.

This one’s for you.

There are, in my opinion two things that language fails to do justice to. Love and Friendship. And today, the world celebrates one of these. What I am going to do today, is to try and put into words, what friendship is to me and tell my friends how much they mean to me.

I was first introduced to the word 'friend' when I was around two and a half years old. I went to 'Tiny Tots', which was a small school near my house. Our teacher said to me one day, when I guess I was angry on a boy from our class, for solving my jig-saw puzzle, "Come one now, he is your friend right? Shake hands and solve the puzzle together".
A year later, my mum’s friends or my relatives generally asked me who my 'best friend' was after they had finished interrogating me about my name, school, etc. Around the same time, we were allowed to sit with our 'best friends' in school and there were little quarrels among us about exactly who was whose 'best friend'. I had a friend, whom I used to sit with, spend all my time with, eat lunch with and go home with. I realised, he was my, what they called, 'best friend'. But, he left school and went to another country. I’m happy to say, that hasn’t made much difference to our friendship.

As I went to first grade, I got to know my other classmates, whom I hadn’t known much about earlier.   Little did I know that four of these were going to become the most important people in my life. Growing up, I read many books about friendship, lessons about friendship from our English textbook, wrote essays on 'My Best Friend' and 'A Friend in need is a friend indeed' and saw movies which highlighted friendship. By the time I was in fifth grade, I had understood that friendship was a really really important part of our lives. Friends were the family we could choose. But, in sixth standard, I experienced the importance of friendship. I developed a close amity with a friend with whom I hadn’t talked much for the past three years. We used to fight a lot, quarrel every single day but somewhere between that bickering, we became friends and not just the so called 'friends' whom you say hi to everyday. Not the kind of friends that just hung out together. We trusted each other, understood each other and well, had loads of fun together. At the same time, my bond with two crazy girls whom I known since first grade deepened. They probably realised that I was as crazy as them, if not more. But I still had a friend who was more special than the rest.
Sixth grade was the best school year of my life. Weekends were torture because I couldn’t meet my three amigos then. Spending time with them made me happy and spending time without them sucked.  They would be there when I needed them, to make everything seem all right and they would be there when I didn’t need them, to annoy me...well I don’t think there was a second when we didn’t need one another. We started understanding each other so well that we could lip read each other and communicate from two corners of the class without letting anyone else know. We completed each other’s sentences and most of the times, looks were enough to convey everything. That’s when I realised how beautiful friendship was. I started appreciating and being grateful for my friends and it was then that I truly understood what friendship meant.

Friendship is beguiling. It is as close to magic as it can get. Friends are, at times, more than family. They don’t judge you, they don’t pick your flaws, they understand you, they trust you, they’re faithful and well, they are friends.

For you, who’s reading this, I wish you a very Happy Friendship Day! Tell your friends how much they mean to you and thank them for being there. Friendship is priceless and well, it’s something to be grateful for. Remember, a real friend is someone who makes you realise how beautiful friendship is...