The Dynamic of Friendship

The company we keep as individuals vastly determines how we are shaped and moulded into our future selves. The friendships we build with our colleagues, family and spouses can tell a lot about the direction you wish to take in your life. Birds of a feather flock together as the old saying goes.

If I thought back to my past I cannot remember the first person I ever befriended. It is both eye-opening and heart sore to realise that many of the people I acquainted myself with growing up have faded so fast from my memory that I cannot even remember my first meeting with them. I do, however, recall a childhood friendship that started off with a girl stealing my sweet. Many of the details of the actual encounter remain fuzzy but I do recall coming home from afternoon religious class in tears and telling my parents that a certain person had stolen my red “smoothie” sweet. I was so upset by the incident that my father actually called up the girl’s mother and had her formally apologise to me for stealing my sweet. Strangely, I recall grinning evilly at the girl from behind my father’s formal pants when the apology was made. This leads me to believe that I may not have been entirely innocent in this incident though to this day I cannot for the life of me remember what happened. Funny enough, this person and I forged a friendship that lasted for an odd 12 years or so before it faded away.

I have found that the friendships that have truly stood the test of time are those I forged with various cousins of mine throughout the years. Without a doubt they have stood by me throughout all trials and testaments. Above all, they have accepted me thoroughly, even appreciating my incessantly perverted sense of humour. Together, we have proceeded on many an escapade. Some stick out of my memory more than others and are begging to escape from my cerebral cortex to be hastily typed away on my laptop screen.

On one particularly boring Christmas holiday, we all found ourselves passing the time in my terribly boring hometown of Ladysmith. For the vast majority of people (99.999999999%) who do not know, Ladysmith is a little landlocked town located in the midst of Kwa-Zulu Natal. Famous for its involvement during the Anglo Boer War, the town boasts nothing but dry land, dying trees and the corpses of many a budding youth who have died after succumbing to chronic boredom. With no cinemas or even a hangout for young people to pass their time fornicating, we spent many of our holidays “working” in my parents’ store in what passes for a mall in this backward two-horse town. As already mentioned, Christmas was on the horizon and the “mall” had put up particularly horrendous Santa Claus plushies as part of their decorations. In protest to having to walk beneath the beady eyes of those monstrosities, we took it upon ourselves to rid the innocent shoppers of these beings. We spent all of a week, armed with broomsticks, ducking and diving from guards as we painstakingly stole most of the Santa Claus’s. We didn't stop there though. In order to ensure that our protest was clearly understood, we both interrogated as well as tortured one of these plushies before dutifully returning him to the mall in the wee hours of dawn. The following Christmas, the remainder of these creatures were donated to the unwilling owners of the handful of stores located on the mall premises.

Many of my best memories involving the strong bond of friendship between my cousins and me involve just simply sitting around, drinking tea and sharing many a story. Lately, our stories usually involve the extrapolation of many of my perverted jokes. It would appear that my influence has rubbed off on many an unsuspecting victim. Why, just last week I complimented my cousin on the size of his teacup: “you have a rather well-endowed teacup”. I have now been officially nicknamed “teacups” by my cousins. I am highly offended by the nickname. Is it my fault that a simple statement led to many a terrible joke being made about the other guys and their “teacups”? From spotted dick served with tea, tremendously tall and stunted teacups, to uncircumcised and syphilitic teacups, my cousins have no boundaries. I, however, advocate for the abolishment of the nickname based solely on the fact that I am innocent.

I don’t think I would have made it through the first week of campus had it not been for these guys. Coming from a small town, with no friends along with me, I found myself in a strange environment surrounded by even stranger people. I remember prolonging my visits to the bathroom for fear of having too much time on my hands and no one and nowhere to spend it. Had it not been for my sister and cousin, I would never have had the courage to talk to anyone. It was my sister’s proclamation of “are there any other first years here?” in the lift that got me to meeting both my first and closest friend- Khadeeja. It was through this friendship, fostered in the lift on the way to an isiZulu test, that I surrounded myself with spiritually uplifting individuals. I now find that I have forged a deeper relationship with my religion as well as have found my true fit in the framework of society. The influence of this particular group of friends will remain with me forever as will the bonds we have made.

Looking back on my previous ventures at friendship I can now understand why so many of them have faded into the background. Many of these people either leeched off me or allowed me to leech of them. We didn't help each other grow, didn't share the level of understanding that will allow one to steal and mutilate an inanimate object. These kinds of bonds are lasting and take the dynamic of friendship to entire new levels. 

It isn't every day that you find people who understand how simply saying “I love getting wet, that is why I love the rain” can mean something completely different to a person such as myself. When you find people such as this, it is necessary to latch on to them and never let them go.