'Sākhyam'

 Sākhyam

You know what’s funny?

We spend years thinking that friendship is about hanging out during breaks, tagging each other in memes, remembering birthdays, and sitting next to each other in class. We often picture a friend as someone from our age group, someone who shares our vibe, our college, our batch, or maybe even just our favorite songs.

But life—thankfully—is far more poetic than that.

As I grew up, I realized that friendship isn’t confined to shared lunchboxes or selfie folders. It’s not limited to who knows your current crush or who texts you "reached home?" after a hangout.

A real friend doesn’t always laugh at your jokes but they understand your silences.

They don’t just say, “I’m here,”—they stay when everyone else walks away.

Friendship is not a tag; it’s a presence.

A presence that believes in you when you don’t.

That disagrees with you, corrects you, but still stands by your side.

That doesn’t fuel your ego but nourishes your growth.

Sometimes, your truest friends wear unexpected faces.

A grandfather who quietly leaves the bigger piece of sweet on your plate.

A mother who sees the pain behind your “I’m fine.”

A neighbour who waters your plants when you forget to.

A teacher who believes in your spark when your grades don’t reflect it.

You see, friendship isn’t always loud. It’s not always visible.

It’s often tucked within small gestures, unspoken understanding, and the kind of silence that comforts rather than awkwardly sits.

And if you're like me, you may have found that the truest friend of all doesn’t even wear skin.

When the world turns its back, when your thoughts eat you alive, when people misunderstand your intentions, and even your reflection feels unfamiliar there’s still One who stays.

That invisible companion who listens without tiring.

Who accepts you without judgment.

Who corrects without humiliating.

And who walks with you even through the shadows of your own doubts.

To me, that is Krishñ.

Not a statue in a temple, not a tale from scriptures,

but the quiet anchor in my drifting days.

My Madhav, my Hari, the one who doesn’t need a knock

to open the doors of comfort.

He is the pause between my stormy thoughts,

the soft hush that covers my chaos like dusk covers the sun.

He knows the weight I carry, even the ones I hide

behind practiced smiles and polite replies.

He doesn't arrive when I call

He’s already there, waiting in the hush of my hesitation.

When I feel like an unfinished song,

He hums the parts I forget to sing.

He’s not just my Lord, He’s my truest friend,

the kind who understands the unspoken

and stays through the unbeautiful.

So this Friendship Day, while I thank those

who’ve stood beside me in visible ways,

I bow to that invisible presence

that held my heart when it fell through its own cracks.

And in doing so, I remind myself, 

Friendship isn't a loud echo,

it's a quiet constant.

Not always seen, but always felt.

This world doesn’t need more followers or filtered moments.

It needs hearts that stay after the applause fades.

Hands that don’t just hold you when you're winning, 

but steady you when you’re not even sure who you are.

Let’s not just be the friend who replies fast,

but the one who listens slow.

Let’s redefine friendship, not as a tag on a post,

but as the warmth in someone’s solitude.

Let us be the shade in someone’s harsh summer.

The window when someone forgets there’s still light.

Let’s carry the kind of love that doesn't need words,

just presence.

Happy Friendship Day

to every soul who chooses to hold, heal, and honor.

To those who love in silence, and stay in spirit.