This is my first work to ever get published. I actually wrote it in October 1985 as part of a school assignment. But later a London community organisation published it in its monthly newsletter after my mother submitted it. I’m reproducing it here with a few edits.

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‘Friendship is like a vase, once broken it maybe repaired, but the mark will remain’, I once read somewhere.


Where does one find the vase, anyway? Does the genuine thing exist, is there such a thing as friendship, is there such a thing as true love?

If you do have the vase, and it breaks, is it worth repairing? Or even, can it be repaired? It may be best to pick up the pieces and throw them away, but could you even do that?

Those who wander through life, oblivious to its depth are so fortunate. They can’t understand, they don’t realise. But us, we can see and understand, understand the reality and harshness of life.

We can see the evil and callousness that exists in bonds as supposedly heavenly as love. The way your loved ones can leave you, abandon you; or perhaps the way that they are snatched from you; or the way that the lust for money could overide natural feelings.

Ignorance is bliss, because when you learn, you learn that there is a price for everything; that ideals, principles, bonds, honour are all words that are good only for the showcase. You learn that there is no such thing as love except in films, books, and the innocence of childhood. The rest is false, artificial – a pleasant decoration piece.

If there is not such a thing as love among humans, then what is life all about? What is the purpose of the existence of the human race? A man is born, he is educated, he entertains himself, he craves indulgence, he craves money, he gets married, he works for a living, he has children, he provides for them – then he dies, he is buried and forgotten. Is this all there is to life?

No one can ever ask or expect life to be perfect, but does it have to be so unsympathetic? Can love, affection and support be found – not the cheap imitations but the real thing?

It can be found, but in this uncertain world it is very easy to lose something. No matter how well you may cup your hands to hold water, it can still leak through. Most people in this world use it quickly and let the rest go; but if you really try to hold it with all your skill and it still slips away, your heart breaks.

When your heart breaks there is no sound, yet the after effects can destroy you? You cannot come to terms with the pain and suffering, you cannot overcome your grief.

This is the result of actually having found love but lost it, and since it is very easy to lose it, ask yourself – was it worth it in the first place? You are sadder but wiser.

When one loses something, one may replace it, but some things cannot be replaced. Think again of the result of your search, where you found and lost something; you become depressed, extremely lonely, uncomfortable, frustrated, angry, impractical, you lose your desire to do anything, you lose yourself, and can find no answers to your questions. Living becomes a torture, that only the strong-willed can endure.

Yet this result that has been described to you, is something you will forget when you think that you have found love; and if by some miraculous chance your quest is rewarded by something real and permanent, then it was worth it. You are very lucky. However, spare a thought for the person who wasn’t so successful, the person who is now standing alone.

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