Six Doors Away

I lived six doors away from this boy until the age of 18. He had a ginger cat called Rex who could climb up the wallpaper with his claws, but not climb down again. We played Sonic the Hedgehog on his Sega Mega Drive. He had a little sister called Suhasini, who liked Boyzone. Their house smelt like chai latte. My house smelt like pork goulash. At mine we played Monopoly and Scrabble: here’s photographic evidence from August 1993 - I was already 16 years old but still looked 12. I wasn’t very popular at school. I can’t speak for Amrish, but I don’t think he was either. So it was good to have a default buddy to fall back on when we had nothing else to do at the weekend. I remember one day spending eight hours at the North Harrow Superbowl. They must’ve had a special summer daytime deal, we bowled until our fingers were raw. Otherwise I remember mostly going to the St. Ann’s Shopping Centre in Harrow-on-the-Hill. We watched movies and bought electronics and cheap clothes.

Then we didn’t see eachother for the next thirty years. We kept in touch electronically, and shared a passion for travel. Out of the blue I got an invite to his wedding. I was amazed and touched to receive it. I knew I probably couldn’t go, since I had no plans to be in London at that time. So I sent an immediate reply to apologise. But then I realised… there was actually nothing stopping me making the trip. And so here I am. This is the reason for my trip. I want to celebrate Amrish’s wedding to Anna. And I want to thank him for being an old friend.

For the Instagram version, see here.
For the Facebook version, see here.