Hansie is my dog. On a sports field, a substitute steps in out of necessity. No matter their potential, on that given day, they remain a step behind the original choice. We live with substitutes every day. When the film we wanted is sold out, we choose another. When an evening by the sea is no longer possible, we find another way to spend it. Real plants become bonsai; bonsai become plastic leaves. We make these trades so often that we hardly notice them any more. Sometimes, we make them with emotions too. A quiet house can feel different when children are grown and gone, or when they were never there to begin with. Many bring home a dog — a gentle response to an ache, an unspoken need for connection, a little companionship. The same thing can be an original for one person and a substitute for another. One person swims because the water calls to them. Another swims because there is nothing else to do. The act is the same; the meaning is not. Perhaps that is the clarity we owe ourselves...
Recently, while watching Gurthukosthunnayi , I came across a dialogue that stayed with me. It meant something like this: “When you have nice people in a group, you make good friends. When you have crazy people in the group, you make great friends.” It made me smile because there is some truth in it. The best friendships are often built around shared laughter, strange adventures, endless conversations and memories that make little sense to anyone outside the group. But it also made me wonder: beyond all these things that bring people together, what is it that makes a bond truly endure? The more I thought about it, the more I felt that the answer might be something much quieter: respect. We often think of relationships in terms of affection, shared interests, attraction, compatibility or the memories we create together. But beneath all of these, there is another quality that gives a relationship depth and resilience — the ability to value another person for who they are, even when t...