Despite what had happened the last time they had gotten together to share a bottle of whiskey, Karan decided to patch things up with Adi. It’d been nearly 5 months since that day when he had stormed out of Adi’s home, 5 months without a word being said to one another. They had run into each other occasionally, at parties hosted by common friends and such, but neither had acknowledged the other. Both of them had looked the other way.
But Karan had missed Adi, and he was sure his friend missed him too. So when an NRI cousin gifted him a bottle of Jack Daniel’s, he called up his old friend. Karan knew he’d enjoy the fine whiskey only with Adi, his best drinking buddy.
Adi was elated to receive Karan’s call; they met that evening itself, at Adi’s place. Adi’s room had a wide, sea-facing balcony; it was their favourite drinking place.
“That goatee looks good,” Adi said, as they settled down with a peg in their hands, “it suits you.”
“Yeah? Thanks. Just trying to look a bit mature,” Karan grinned. “You know how it’s been with me…I still look like a school kid.”
“Hahaha…yes, even with that goatee you do.”
Karan smiled. “I missed you, man.”
“Me, too. I’ve always had a good time with you.”
In the couple of awkward minutes that followed, both of them stared out towards the sea and sipped on their drinks.
“So, how’s your story writing going?” Adi asked.
“It’s going well,” Karan replied. “I try and write whenever I can, my blog gets a decent number of views…the readership’s been increasing.”
“Nice, nice. But how do you…like, publicise your blog? I mean, how do you tell people about your stories.”
“Well, I stand on the road, stop each passerby, and tell them to go read my blog,” Karan laughed.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if you were really doing that,” Adi smirked.
“Ha! Frankly, that wouldn’t surprise me either,” Karan laughed, again. “But seriously, I just post links on Twitter and Facebook.”
“Oh, that’s good, I’m sure everyone you know loves to read your stories. Facebook is a good way of keeping them updated.”
Karan didn’t say anything to that. He drained out his peg and got up to make another one. Once he was back with a fresh drink in hand, he looked at Adi. “You know, that’s what you think would happen, right?”
“My friends would want to read my stories, right? They would click on the links I post on Facebook, right?”
“Yeah, of course,” Adi shrugged. “So? What’s your point?”
“My point is that they don’t. I hardly get any hits from Facebook.”
“You don’t?” Adi asked. “Really?”
“Nope…the people who’re supposed to know me, my friends and all…they don’t read my stories. I get a 1oo times more hits from Twitter, they don’t know me personally, but they read my stories. But not my so-called friends…hardly any hits from Facebook.”
“That’s really sad, man. Your friends should read your stories,” Adi asserted.
“Well, you’re my friend, you’re there on my Facebook…do you read my stories?” Karan asked.
Adi didn’t know what to say to that. He didn’t read Karan’s stories, and he knew Karan knew he didn’t.
Karan looked at him, and smirked. “Yeah, like I thought. Friends are assholes,” he said, shaking his head.