School Bus No. 3 , Ribbons n curls

She and I travelled by the same school bus no. 3...she looked a lot different then plaited hair with blue ribbons, bespectacled  and ever bubbly.... i was the opposite short unruly hair cut short so that ribbons could be spared for the real feminine souls... and lost in my world....She was my friend... to be precise a buddy for keeps... she and I had a way of getting in touch only when each other was in trouble... through other times we just knew the other was somewhere out there making her journey... ansha... that was her special way of pronouncing my very common name anusha... she would start ansha...and i would become the epitome of wisdom judging her ideas... or i would start d***** and she would take on the role of the wise old owl...

It was difficult not to keep in touch when the other was in trouble.... in fact she was my junior by a year at school and college... but it never struck us that one was senior and the other was junior.... our journey started as school mates on bus no.3... we ended up doing graduation at the same college... and more interesting she was faculty at the same university where i was a doctoral student. Even that formal hierarchy did not tip the scales of our friendship in any way... it was ansha as always... and nothing could stop us from sharing what was happening around.... even within her limits as guest faculty at the university and me as the "scholar" student...mind you i was far from scholarly....

It drove some other faculty nuts especially those who didnt know she and i said our hellos on bus no. 3 when we identified each other by her ribbons and my unruly curls....she was always there when i was in my worst of moments... when my dad died i saw her there... i had not informed in my grief and stress..she watched my grief and even though i could not bring myself to let her face my grief i knew she was there and that old comfort of blue ribbons and unruly curls of no.3 wafted itself into what remained best unspoken.... she and i share a special friendship in the sense we somehow keep in touch in our worst moments... when all that matters is yes d****..and no ansha..... followed by wise owl pronouncements... and the judgements mattered less than hearing  her say ansha.....

It is one of those bonds that exists because it is meant to exist....