3 minutes reading time
location: Hyderabad, India
Once upon a recent, in the never-ending sitcom called “my life,” I was that guy who lurks behind screens. If you ever wondered who eats lunch alone while internally live-tweeting his existential crisis, that’s me. Thanks to years of top-tier social Darwinism, I’d reached such an elite tier of isolation even my imaginary friends ghosted me.
Then, the unthinkable happened. Some human - let’s call her “The Unexpected Variable” - decided to add a little chaos to her life by befriending me.
Picture this: corporate jungle, endless grey cubicles, and me, blending in with the coffeemaker. Suddenly, in the hallowed parking lot of dreams and unfulfilled KPIs, she asked if she could ride my bike. And when she realized I handed over the keys without so much as “Do you have a license, or a death wish?” she was weirdly impressed. Trust issues? I outsource those to life itself.
Next thing I know, I’m being abducted for “breaks.” Office breaks - because nothing says “friendship” like debating the texture of cafeteria food. To be honest, I hated leaving my desk. But apparently, hanging out is a thing normal people do. Occasionally, I dropped her at her PG, and we’d even take random spins, subjecting innocent citizens to our rolling awkwardness.
Whenever she even invited me to her room, I sat there, and my dopamine-starved brain whispered, “Bro, you’re bored.” But compared to staring at my own ceiling contemplating my choices (all two of them: ‘exist’ or ‘die’), her company was strangely preferable.
Fast forward, we would just lie on my so-called penthouse and watch the sky conspire against my remaining sanity. Sometimes, the universe sent in the cool breeze, drizzle, and a reminder that “Hey, it could be worse… or could it?”
Somewhere among the clouds, she started talking about her boyfriend. Then introduced me to her other “friend,” who quickly became the next boyfriend - because emotional musical chairs is apparently a competitive sport.
I tried rebooting life with a dating app. Met someone who - get this - thought I was nursing feelings for my “adopter.” Plot twist, again? I let go. Back to being a solitary NPC in a game nobody plays.
So here I am - still allergic to sunlight and close human contact, but at least with some field notes to share. Moral of the story? Never trust the universe, office parking lots, or anyone asking for your bike keys. Friends are like limited-edition loot drops: you don’t know how you got one, she’ll eventually despawn, and then you’re alone in the lobby. Again.