“For me, to remember friendship is to recall conversations that it seemed a sin to break off: the ones that made the sacrifice of the following day a trivial one” - Hitchens
During my break in 2025, I did the things I never had the time and money for: travelling cheaply across Asia, learning to ski and pursuing my AI interests.
Yet, for all the excitement of 2025, nothing beats meeting Isaac* and Albert*. We spent countless hours lost in philosophy, history, politics, literature and science, followed by absurd jokes and complete nonsense.
A lot of friendships and connections depend upon a sort of shared language, not necessarily designed to exclude others, but to instantly bridge the gaps left by time. With Isaac, we would bond via slagging - a high-powered version of teasing where friends are jokingly cruel to each other. I would endlessly tease Isaac’s gigantic forehead and receding hairline, only for him to fire back at my own hairline and the pretentiousness of my latest intellectual comparison.
"How dare you, Tiff," he’d scoff after I tried to compare Shapiro to Hitchens. "You know absolutely nothing about Hitchens."
It is indeed true - I knew nothing about Hitchens beyond his identity as a debater. But I was quickly awed by his wit, intellect and sheer courage of independent thought. If one has to wince at one’s stupidity, I find a bit of relief in reminding myself of a man who once defaced a political poster in the Middle East with a four-letter word, only to realise too late that it was for a martyr. Hitchens nearly died because of his ignorance and ballsy defiance. I can’t help but be amused by his many adventures and reckless love for life.
Hitchens is one of the many “characters” my friends introduced to me. I am so grateful to have finally found friends who are much more well-read than I am. There is no greater joy than to have a good conversation where wide reading and original ideas finally meet.
Isaac
Isaac is a pseudonym for my friend. Isaac never lets the comfort of our friendship get in the way of his commitment to the truth. If my thinking is flawed, he will call me out. I suspect that’s why I feel so comfortable with him, beyond our shared intellectual interests and sense of humour. There’s a sense of comfort knowing that he will always put his value before our friendship, which in turn allows me to do the same with mine- my vivacious love of life, joy de vivre.
Isaac is simply very rare. He is one of the few people I know who goes to certain lengths to protect his mind, although I suspect most of it is his natural proclivity. I was positively shell-shocked to learn that he spent his entire life, as a GenZ, never touching social media. No Facebook, no Twitter, not even LinkedIn. Isaac, to me, has spent his entire life protecting the independence of his mind.
You can really feel that discipline in our conversations - his razor-sharp rationale and his effortless erudition. Unsurprisingly, his circle is small. Yet he remains one of the most self assured person I know - perfectly happy in the solitude of his own thoughts. He seemed to have mastered something I often struggle with: the idea that a clear head is a virtue you shouldn’t trade just to escape the weight of being alone.
Conversations with Isaac are always exciting. Isaac has a knack for dismantling my hard questions. Our conversations are often provocative - my questions challenge his logic, and his answers challenge my perspective. Isaac has more than once dismantled my belief systems, and that is no easy feat.
One time, Isaac challenged my idea of “meaning”. I had spent a large portion of my life believing my life was meaningful. By the end of our 8-hour conversation, he had convinced me that there is no real meaning in life - that my sense of meaning is nothing but a fluff of emotions used to justify my own suffering. All along, I was fooling myself, perhaps to make myself feel better.
Isaac’s intent wasn’t to make me a nihilist, but to ensure that I stopped deceiving myself with narratives. I suppose that is what I loved most about our friendship - always learning, always exciting, always being challenged and the refusal to sugarcoat things.
One of my favourite cheeky memories involves provoking his distaste for Dostoevsky. While I was obsessed with The Brothers Karamazov, Isaac—being a staunch atheist—couldn't stand the religious weight of Crime and Punishment. I took great pleasure in bringing up “Dodo” every chance I got, just to watch him wince.
"If you insist on admiring him so much," he retorted, "the least you could do is learn to pronounce his name correctly." I laughed. In that moment, as always, he was honest to the core.
Albert
Albert is, by my definition, a lunatic. I say this with the absolute highest level of affection. There are many moments when I’ll be walking down the street, recall a snippet of one of our conversations, and just start laughing out loud. He is so novel, so interesting, so intense, so intelligent, so disagreeable. He is always disagreeing, including disagreeing with himself. Albert represents the embodiment of “holding two opposing thoughts in your mind without going crazy”. Sometimes I wonder: How on earth does this guy exist? And this coming from me, someone who has been noted more than once for her own unique charm and eccentricity. Our conversations are always a ride, and our first one remains an iconic memory etched into my mind.
I met Albert through a series of unlikely circumstances. In mid 2025, I was in the middle of a career "roll the dice" in California, pushing my luck to break into AI. My main motivation was the people; I was desperate to find a circle that was actually inspired by the abstract question of "how the mind works." I wasn't disappointed. Albert shared those motivations, though he was significantly more knowledgeable and—rightfully—a bit older than I was.
I’ve always told my friend John* when I’m about to do something crazy, and he encouraged me to join a chat group started by one of his old Oxbridge connections. It was mostly people yapping about ideas, often with a layer of status-signalling that I didn't take too seriously. But one day, I posted a thread about a meetup for an AI lab, and Albert liked it. I looked him up, saw he actually worked in the sector, and boldly reached out. I wanted to learn about AI infrastructure and sent him my blogs to show my interests. To my surprise, he was amused enough to hop on a call.
We talked about AI for maybe 10 minutes, only to be followed by one of the most engaging (albeit unhinged) conversations I had for a random call with a stranger. For the next two hours, we covered everything from enlightenment, French prepa, science, academia and politics. He was incessantly challenging my conclusions, poking holes in my logic, and we ended the call with him complimenting my “balls”.
Feeling inspired, I followed up with a long, sentimental text about how grateful I was for my life, my family's poor upbringing, and how lucky I felt. I was promptly shell-shocked by his response. He sent back a wall of text explaining how I was absolutely fooling myself into thinking that my entrepreneurial spirit correlates with my upbringing —that I was just telling a story in my head. That I was overdeterministic.
This was from a stranger I had never even met in person. My heart dropped; I felt like total crap for about ten minutes. But then, a wave of amusement hit me. He was so right. "We are definitely going to be friends," I gleed with excitement.
And I am so glad we did. Albert has become one of my most treasured friendships. He never lets friendship take precedence over his first love, which was and is logic. If one employs flawed thinking, it would be rubbed in; no, it would be emphasized. I suspect that is the very reason he is often accused of “mansplaining”, but it’s the same reason he is so loved dearly by his friends. He cares more about the truth than he does about being polite. He is always interested in how you think rather than in what you think. In a world of superficial small talk, that is a gift.
*Not their real name. Inspired by Camus and Newton.