Dear Best Friend, It's Your Birthday in 8hours.

Isha Maniar,
It's your birthday in 7 and 1/2 hours. You're turning 18.
Now you can buy us cigarettes legally.
And drive, when you finally learn. Even though I won't let you. Women drivers, you know how I feel.
Now you can tease me, about still being 17.
You can have sex, legally.
You're all grown-up, and pretty. I feel like your Mommy. Coz just today, we went through our old photus, and trust me when I say, we were ugly back then. Now you're pretty, and smart, and all set to be a hot lawyer. But you're still my best friend. I've changed too. We've changed, but the friendship hasn't. Won't.
I don't laugh so hard with anyone.
I wouldn't sing songs from Kaante about cigarettes with anyone else. No one else I know, makes evenings so peaceful, with just the smoke around us. Silence is comfortable with you, not awkward.
If it wasn't for you , smart conversations wouldn't happen, and I'd lose out on intelligence. Not to mention, an extra family would be lost.
Every year, something messes up your birthday.
This year, I'm trying extra hard to make it perfect.
Coz the trash is out of your life. And you're with someone who deserves you. And I rarely think anyone deserves you.
This year, and for the years to come, we'll make our birthdays perfect.
And we'll honor our pact. We'll be there with each other for every birthday.
I promise to fly to whatever part of the world you're in, to see you on the 26th of November, every year.
And if someday, some husband kicks up a fuss, I'll dump him for you.
But you must give me cake.
Every year. And if I get fat, don't tell me, tell me I could stand to gain some, and make me eat cake.
And I'll make you feel special, and prized every year.
Coz though I don't say it much, I'm lucky to have you.
And since I'm not good with I love yous, I'm trying today.
I love you. Very much.

Neha.
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