There was this time in high school, when my then best female friend left for Pune. We wrote about two letters each week – she spoke of love and heartbreak and me of the vague things I did (that clearly did not involve any love or heartbreak). Since she had moved off to this exotic world of air-force trainees and what not, I was left with a bunch of guy friends. And no really female friend.
Which was all fine. Because a) they were (and surprisingly still are) good friends. b) that is the golden age when you don’t know enough of science / math to see why some of your most brilliant ideas will never work and you need motivated buddies to work on these quixotic theories. (for instance, why don’t we inject some cellulose digesting enzymes into humans so we can all eat grass and paper?… Or lets cut up some ants, mash them up, dilute them and figure out how pheromones work…anyway you get the drift). c) It helped with bunking classes and showing up at what used to be called Youth Festivals. and d) It is usually boys who sit around in the last bench playing book-cricket or some such nonsense.
I wonder if all this tomboyish-ness of my formative years explains why so many of my guy friends think talking to me is like talking to a guy. And why I am just too cynical and rude for my woman friends. My only redeeming factor in the eyes of one of my female friends is this – “atleast your sub-conscious mind has some good taste”.