True Companion

My best friend was the most important person during my college years. I used to share all my problems with her, and it helped me in many ways.

Firstly, talking to her allowed me to hear my own thoughts out loud. Secondly, I realized how much I tended to complain about everything, feeling like the whole world was against me.

Overall, I enjoyed talking to my best friend; instead of burning inside in hell, it is better to talk to a trustworthy friend.

In contrast, my sister had many friends in school. Curiously, I once asked her, “What does friendship mean to you?” She surprised me by saying, “Friends are just for passing time.”

At first, I laughed, but later I kept thinking about it. When I was in school, I was a quiet child with little to say. I mostly interacted with  my classmates to borrow notes or stationery. I was not good at studies and had a little to offer in return. I was lost in my own isolated world. My classmates found me intolerable, and I longed for the year to end so I could have a new sitting partner. This pattern repeated year after year.

In 9th grade, my grandmother decided to change my school and arranged for two girls to be my friends. They would pick me up from home every day. Initially, I enjoyed their company—walking quietly to school, eating lunch together, and returning home felt comforting. However, I still had nothing meaningful to contribute to their conversation. I found their usual discussions uninteresting and listened passively. They found me weird. They kept pushing me to discuss my problems. Finally, one day I shared my joint family troubles. They heard me with great interest.   

But over time, they teamed up against me and used my vulnerability to make me feel guilty. I started questioning myself, wondering if there was something wrong with me. In 11th grade, they chose science while I opted for commerce. I was happy to be rid of them.

In college, I deliberately preferred having one quiet friend at a time. This approach worked well for me. But later in life, I became more vulnerable, overwhelmed by numerous problems, and didn’t know how to handle them. I started sharing my struggles with a trustworthy friend. This habit continued for many years. One day, I realized that I was mostly repeating myself – discussing the same issues over and over. I found talking comforting and sitting in silence became difficult. How did a quiet child turn into a restless person? One extreme to another.

After a long process, I understood that sharing problems didn’t necessarily lead to solutions; instead, it often worsened my inner state. This realization was a turning point.

I began practicing meditation. Over the years, I discovered that the same process of talking through the problems could be done internally. By staying with my restlessness and inner discomfort, I found that my mind naturally settled into peace over time. It was a transformative experience.

I no longer needed restless company or conversation as a form of distraction.  I enjoy the company of people who appreciate my silence and happiness in simple ways. We do small things together, enjoy quiet meals, have relaxed conversations about work, and share simple jokes.