Friends Forever

A day at the beach that turned into a dramatic event strengthens these Durban BFFs’ relationship

- VANITHA MAISTRY

THE matchbox houses stood like rows of rainbow-coloured umbrellas on a deserted beach. The fragrance of spices and curries filled the air. The houses were so close that if you smashed a stink bomb in your kitchen, the rotten smell would travel like lightning next door, bringing out all and sundry.

The ladies wore saris and were addressed as aunties. Everyone and anyone was your aunty. It was almost evening and the moon shone brightly, savouring the camaraderie of this carefree community in Durban. The young boys were on the narrow street, still playing soccer. When cars passed they slowed down so the youth hastily dispersed in all directions.

The three little friends were busy playing house with their dolls and cooking make-believe food on their toy stoves. The eldest was Devi, the second-eldest Rumba and the youngest Suri.

Suri was brattish. When she was bored or ignored, she always toppled the little toys like a menace, running off and taunting the other two. Devi was the most responsible, which was why she’d always take on the role of dad when they played house. Rumba was plump and short so they nicknamed her “Half Loaf ”.

Theirs was a close-knit community and each family always included the girls on their excursions to the beach. The girls loved the sea and always swam fully clothed. They loved one another although they fought occasionally.

When the fights got serious, their moms would have to run out of their houses like mad women trying to untangle them. Scratching, biting, gripping and pulling one another’s hair were common fighting tactics they shared.