Sharing secrets and keeping them played a major role in my early friendships; this was the ultimate seal of being “best friends” and what we all believed was the true ingredient for an undying friendship. In college and at work, I had the privilege of being the chosen agony aunt for so many; initially it was all very nice and the feeling of importance and the pride in the trust one had in one’s friends and colleagues. Soon I was under the pressure of having to listen to the darkest secrets of these people and the burden of having to keep them to myself was even worse. It had to be guarded all the time like a treasure of the Swiss bank to make sure one didn’t accidentally leak. The worse were times when you hear people say unfair things about a person because they didn’t know what you knew and you could not set things right because you had pledged to keep it a secret. The most difficult and horrifying part used to be when the secret was somehow out and you were a suspect for having leaked it. And now when anyone asks me, if I can you keep a secret; I immediately respond, and say sorry honey I m bad at it. Life is much simpler now. I pity those guys who make a profession of this – like psychiatrists and the priests who listen to confession. How do they keep their sanity? Do they go to other psychiatrists to unburden themselves??