Friends are like investments. There are good ones and bad ones. The good ones last long, sometimes a lifetime, pulling you out of dark days, lending an ear for your rants, offering a shoulder to cry on, and yes, even handing you a tissue when you need to ugly-cry into someone’s sleeve. The bad ones? Best left in the fine print, not worth revisiting.

And just like financial investments, friendships benefit from diversification. Relying too heavily on one tight circle can be risky — when life shifts, people move on, and dynamics change, you might find yourself alone, stuck in the same place while everyone else has moved forward.

A few weeks ago, I offered a lift to a colleague. We were never particularly close, and to be honest, we’d had a falling out years ago that led to us avoiding each other altogether. Offering a ride was my way of thawing the ice. She’s known to be chatty, and true to form, she spoke non-stop, about topics I couldn’t always follow or connect with. Still, it was pleasant enough. At one point, I asked her what she did on weekends, who she spent time with. She paused, and with a sudden drop in tone said, “I have no friends.”

For a moment, she went quiet. Her earlier cheerfulness replaced by something softer, sadder. I felt a lump rise in my throat. Not too long ago, I had seen her surrounded by people, planning weekends and living a visibly social life. But now, after years in a foreign land, with friends scattered and some relationships corroded by jealousy, she was alone.
Her immediate family is still in India. She wants to settle in the UK. But how do you choose to build a life in a country where you’re utterly alone?

I’ve never been in her exact situation, but I’ve tasted loneliness, particularly the kind that comes from over-relying on a single group of friends.Years ago when I first moved to UK, I used to hang out with the only group of people I knew. My office colleagues. Mostly male, in fact I was one of the only two females in the team deputed from India. She was married so she used to spend most of time with her husband. I was single, so I used to hang out with the guys. I thought I had found my group. However, I noticed that these men were not as adventurous. They weren’t interested in Broadway, holidays, or even exploring London — just the occasional Indian meal or film. They went on trips to the Lake District, to France — trips I only heard about after the fact. I was never invited.My other friends outside work were either students or married couples. So their budget or interests were different. So while I was in London for 2 years, I missed out on exploring London and all the experiences it offered.

It’s why years later when I came back to London, I made a conscious choice to branch out. I rekindled college and school friendships, met their friends, and built new bonds across ages, cultures, and backgrounds. I diversified my friendship portfolio. I invested time, curiosity, and emotional energy, so I wouldn’t be left alone when life took its inevitable turns.
Because when I say friends pull you out of tough times, I don’t just mean financial troubles. I mean the ache of emotional lows. The late nights when grief knocks, when heartbreak whispers, when silence feels too loud. Friends matter then.

We need people who’ll just listen. Not fix. Not judge. Just listen. The kind of friends who don’t ask why you feel the way you do, they just show up. Like dependable fixed deposits, they hold steady even when everything else fluctuates.

A friend of mine recently moved back to India from the U.S. She said something that stayed with me: “I don’t miss the place, I miss the people.”
And she’s right. We rarely miss places — we miss the company, the memories, the laughter echoing off the walls of ordinary spaces.

When I went through a difficult chapter in my life, it was my friends, in all forms, who helped me through. Some were physically close, others emotionally present from miles away. Childhood friends on WhatsApp with silly memes, London friends who showed up with comfort food and compassion — they each played their part.

My mother always says, “A person without friends isn’t fully human.”
And I agree. We are social beings. We crave connection, someone to hear us, to see us, to remind us who we are when we forget. True friends know our strengths and our flaws. And they don’t hesitate to show us the mirror when we need a reality check.

Friendship is an investment. You can’t expect dividends without putting in the effort. You can’t just sit back and wait for others to carry the relationship. Like with any good investment, you have to nurture it, review it, and contribute to it regularly.

And then there are friends who are like long-term fixed deposits, people you may not talk to for months or even years, but you know, without question, they’ll be there when you need them. And they know you’ll do the same.

So invest wisely. Diversify your friendships. Nurture the good ones. And never let go of the people who truly care for you.

Because in the end, it’s not the location or the event that stays with us — it’s the people we shared it with.

A friend in need is a friend indeed.
I’m blessed with such friends, the kind who show up when I’m short on money, when I’m unwell, or even when I’m just buried under a cloud of sadness. They’re the family I’ve chosen, and I don’t take that lightly.
It’s not about expecting anything in return — not really. Their presence, their time, their affection — that’s more than enough. I know they’ll stand by me when I need them most, and they know I will do the same.

So tell me — what kind of friendships are you investing in? And when life gets tough, who shows up for you?