Pole Position of Love

Chapter- 1: The Grand Prix of Friendship

Today was a big day for me. I have been dreaming of this particular day since I started developing my interest in Formula 1 - to watch a race live in action. And particularly, to see my favorite driver, Lewis Hamilton, on the track and on the podium.

This wouldn't have happened without Michael. He's my internet best friend of many years, and Formula 1 is one of the mutual interests that brought us together. Our friendship began on a random F1 Facebook page, and since then, we've been inseparable. However, our relationship is complex; no friendship is perfect. Despite a decade of friendship, we've never had the chance to meet in person. Michael lives in Spain, while I reside in India—a long-distance friendship with its own unique beauty and challenges. Michael has been a constant presence in my life. I can't recall a single day when I needed him and he wasn't there. I'm confident he feels the same way about me. The turning point in our friendship came when my brother passed away. I was shattered, unsure how to navigate the emotions that followed. Losing someone you love is like having them vanish—no longer able to see them, talk to them, share moments, or cry together. In my grief, I built a wall around myself, a huge bubble I didn't want to leave. But Michael was there, every day, every hour, every second. He showed up, talked me through my sadness, guilt, and emptiness. That's when I realized he's someone I can never lose. Our friendship is a treasure, a prized possession. And you can never lose your true gems, can you?

Over the past decade of friendship, I've never seen Michael in person, yet he's witnessed every aspect of my life. On his birthday, I decided to surprise him with a video call. As the phone rang, a woman answered, and I found myself face-to-face with his mother. Our brief conversation was effortless, thanks to her warmth and familiarity with me. I caught a glimpse of their home in the background, hinting at Michael's comfortable upbringing. She excused herself to hand the phone to Michael, speaking to him in Spanish. That's when I saw him, albeit briefly, from behind. Suddenly, the call disconnected. I recall Michael saying something to his mother in Spanish, his tone angry, before the line went dead. I never understood what happened, and we never discussed it. I wondered if I had overstepped by calling unannounced.

Questions lingered: 'Why can't I see your pictures?' or 'Why can't we video call?' But our frequent voice calls comforted me. I thought, 'I'll let him share more when he's ready.' I cherished our friendship and accepted that he might be sharing all he could. Occasionally, I wished for more glimpses into his life through photos or videos, but I reminded myself to be patient. After all, I valued our connection, and he was already giving me so much.

Michael is a kind and thoughtful friend. As our bond grew stronger, we began exchanging gifts that we thought the other would appreciate, often related to Formula 1. He'd send me signed memorabilia from drivers, usually featuring my favorite, Lewis Hamilton. I marveled at his ability to acquire such unique items. When I asked him about it, he playfully brushed it off, saying, "I don't really have to worry about it." My gifts, on the other hand, were handmade, a reflection of my limited means. Yet, Michael always appreciated them.

But this time, he outdid himself. He sponsored my trip and secured VIP F1 tickets, offering a prime viewing spot and a chance to meet the drivers. I initially declined, but he revealed that he'd already made the arrangements and planned to meet me at the Grand Prix. My hesitation stemmed from the significant expense, but the prospect of finally meeting my friend after a decade was too enticing to resist. I agreed, on the condition that he'd let me return the favor by taking him to a Grand Prix in the future.

Michael's response was enigmatic: "Although it wouldn't make sense, but okay." When I pressed him for clarification, he hinted at a secret: "I have something to tell you, but I can only share it when we meet. You'll see or understand once you get here." His words left me puzzled, but I didn't pursue it further.

As I looked forward to the Grand Prix, I couldn't help but wonder about the improbability of meeting Lewis Hamilton. What were the chances of us crossing paths? Slim to none, I thought.