Teach a Man to Fish

It was dimly lit, bright neon lights, loud music. People dancing, pulsing to the music, some making it look natural, others as if they were dancing the first time. A lazy smoke drifted through the air. I brushed past people, looking for something to cool me off. Where was the table with drinks? A firm hand clasped me on the back, and i turned around to see an acquaintence, Hameed. Wide, expansive face. He was wearing a smile as he asked me how i had been, and we talked, basically shouted as we walked through the throngs. The music was loud, it was getting claustrophobic, the lights bright and blinding. We caught up and talked about our lives. He was working at a bank, had been steady with his girlfriend of two years. He seemed happy. The smell of weed - the haze in the air - was starting to give me a headache. The lights were pulsing faster, my vision was darkening, spots forming in front of my eyes. The seats we had found to talk on were in front of something that could once have been a living room, it did not resemble it now. I was excited, there was a need in me, i think that was being fulfilled. A need that arose when humans first realized they needed to band together to survive, before clans and tribes with huts and manually lit fires became societies and nations, places with towering monoliths, a testament to how far we had come, electricity, hot water, shelter. Yet, somehow we still possess that social requirement, and it drives us to interact with others. That was what was creating a smoldering satisfaction inside of me. A girl vomited in front of us, disgust adding to the forest fire inside my chest. I got up to get a drink, he said he had to look for someone, and we parted ways with words to keep in touch. As i was sipping on the cold liquid, i felt an emptiness inside my chest. As if it were a balloon, and air had been squeezed out of it slowly, deliberately. There was a rumbling in my head. Painful, menacing. I ran into Vardan, a very good friend of mine. Jolly, his face was always a beacon of joy, and it lit up the room, even in this poorly lit place. We made fun of people, talked about stupid stuff. The lights seemed fine to me now, they were actually cool, pulsing like orbs, the music getting my heart beating, making me excited. The weed smelled good, and maybe it was a second hand high, but i really wanted some Halal right about now. The glass felt cool and nice in my hand. I felt comfortable around Vardan. And even though we didnt talk about meaningful stuff, i still felt like our interaction was meaningful as it deepened the strength of an already meaningful friendship.

Would you rather meaningful friendships, or would you rather collect friends like trophies?