A Friend

It felt like ages since I had left my city, Kolkata after my graduation. I never thought I would come back here. I am working in a different city, and my parents are dwelling somewhere else. There wasn't any need. But this time, I had to. It was the alumni meet of my college. My best friend swore that she won't talk to me if I didn't come. After three months of continuous nagging, nudging, arguments, and hanging up like teenagers, I finally booked my flight to Kolkata. It's been six years when I counted.

The story remains the same all the time. Whether passing out school and entering college or leaving colleges with dreams of jobs, we all promise to keep in touch. And then, ping! Life happens, and everything fades. Memories become reveries, and all we are left with is a pinch of reminiscences with loads of nostalgia.

I came with a rucksack. I find suitcases boring and too hard to lift. I booked a prepaid taxi. "Where?" The driver asked. "Bhawanipur," I replied and settled myself in the back seat while toying with the receipt in my hand.

The old Hemanta Bengali songs, the half modern and half vintage-styled buildings, people rushing down the crossings and running after 45A buses, brought back all the forgotten days of my life. It was changed and it wasn't. It's a place where people took metros and buses to go to Starbucks and, riches, on the other hand, would get down at a random tea stall from their E-class Mercedes for a Kulhad wali Chai. I never thought I missed these things until then. And that, the city was still a little more than politics and unnecessary intellectualism of so-called intelligent psyches.

I didn't realize I have already reached my destination. I got down and kept gazing at the gate. The same rustic iron gate but pretty much everything else was changed. There was no more Phuchka or Paanipuri dada. It was substituted by selfie-friendly cafes and takeaways as we have in Western Countries.

I felt a soft hand pressing my shoulder. It was my best friend, Neha, because of whom I was standing there. She gave me tight hug slightly displacing me from the ground. "Heyy, my sweetie! It feels so so so so good. Thanks, girl, for making it." She was smiling to the ears.

"Oh yes, I made it after 4000 abandonment threats and 55000 times of nagging," I smirked. She made a face and gave me a hard punch on my arm.

We walked through the gate and reminisced the old aroma of the building and the ground where we used to spend hours and hours blabbering, singing, and fighting. And while I walked a little closer towards the amphitheater, a known voice echoed in my ears. Ravish! I kept staring at him. Some notions and emotions, we lock in the boxes and hide it somewhere too deeper in our voids. The box came out today and unlocked itself. The color on my face might have changed or else Neha wouldn't have whispered, "Don't tell me sweetie you still...." She tailed off.

Yes. I do. I do love him still. But I didn't reply. I have learned the art of moving on without troubling anyone with my melancholy. I trained myself to love the fact that the person you love should be happy and it is all that matters. With you or without you.

We entered the hall where everyone else was sitting. It was a lovely auditorium. My friends reminded me of the times when we used to sit at the back and made annoying noises or sang awful songs in chorus to disturb the speaker and then we were thrown out of there as a punishment. Which was obviously rather a boon and an escape from boring seminars.

But my mind kept on rewinding only one memory. Without making anyone notice me I sat on a corner seat and allowed myself to sink into the past.

I am too nervous to speak first when I am new to any place. Also, being an overthinker, I believe speaking more is a kind of an insignificant show off when I don't know if the other person is more capable or talented than me. So I stay silent initially until I make it exactly what and how am I supposed to speak. I came with the same philosophy on the first day of my college. A grave and deep voice rang in my ears, "Hi! I am Ravish. I prefer sitting on the first bench always. Do you mind if I?" I thought for a second. We were still in the aura of school days and, that meant everyone was going to judge us. But then who cared! "Yes, sure!" I replied and made space for him.

We didn't talk much initially. But gradually, we became friends. And then a little more than friends. A little more than friends are always of the confusing types. You are supposed to be sharing everything and yet not allowed to be too close to feel anything. We used to talk till 1 in the night and sat together the next day in class and spoke as we have never spoken in ages. People were so sure about us being together. And then finally came that time when I wanted that rumor to be true. But friendships are more precious. I never said anything more, anything less. Three years went like that.

I decided one day that I should tell him when it became too complicated to cling on to the mixed bag of emotions. It was our farewell time. If he refused, it would have been easier to move on. With my fingers crossed, I wrote a letter with every bit of my feelings.

I was on cloud nine with butterflies in my stomach at the same time. I wore his favorite color, black. All other people were posing for selfies and screaming in joy. I greeted everyone with my eyes searching for only one person. I wandered into the premises and heard his voice. The same deep voice came into my ears. I walked in the direction and then whatever I saw was enough to leave me heartbroken for the next decade. It felt like that at least then. He was holding hands with some other girl and introducing her as his girlfriend. I froze there. We had talked till midnight even till yesterday. He told me nothing. My heart sank then. I had locked this complaint as a reason to hate him more for the next few years till I was able to let everything go. I eloped. I ran across the ground as fast as I could. I couldn't even wait to realize that he was screaming my name. He saw me. The letter fell from my hand. I didn't look back. After exams, I left the city and never kept in touch with him.

The same deep voice rang this time yet again. I suddenly came out of my sense. Ravish was sitting beside me. Maybe longer than I think.

"You went that day and never returned. Never asked. Never complained. It took me years to find out what exactly did hurt you. I never told about my crush or not giving you a chance to tell me."

"Tell you what?" I asked him.

"This." He handed a crumpled page. I took it and kept on reading the letter for ages. It was the same letter I wrote that day.

"Dear best friend,

I know people say it's the worst idea to fall in love with your best friend. But I did it anyway. I don't know how and when it happened. You are so clear that you don't want any relationships. And such a confession can ruin everything between us. I still don't know if it's worth the risk. But Ravish, do you think we can be together? I love you so!

Yours forever,"

Tears rolled down my cheeks. I wiped them and gave the letter back. We sat in silence for a long time.

He took my hands and whispered, "I keep it with me always. I had the feeling you would come today. I read this always to remind me of what I have lost in my life because of my foolishness. I am not going to propose to you now. That's too cliched and filmy."

I laughed.

"Also, you deserve someone much better than I am. But can we be friends again? Best friends? Sharing everything? Please?"

I looked him in the eyes. It was the most beautiful thing to get back friendship and a friend.

"On one condition." I tried joking, "Better not make a poker face and share your break up stories. Too boring."

He smiled. "That's the only job best friends do, isn't it?"

"So you are determined to snatch my piece of peace?''

"You got it right." and we both started giggling.

And that's how life gives you second chances always!