School Days and a dead friend – Final Part.

Sikha and I had got into a pretty bad fight in school in the morning.

In those days, since she couldn’t drive a scooty, she went along with me to tuitions. I had our driver take a by lane to her home and pick her up for tuitions – like we needed even more time together – as we sat in school together, were cracking jokes in break together. Even when school ended, we were on call together. Hundreds of rupees were wasted to support our highly important, couldn’t wait till next conversations about what my crush did or what our classmates did. Now we have free talk time, Jio, what not – yet I do not have my friend whom I desperately want to talk to.

She got into the car silently. I didn’t even greet her hi. Even the driver must have sensed the air in the car. When we reached Baburam Sir’s tuition we sat even on the bench together silently. So much commotion, so much joking all around us, yet for the first time the two epic best friends were not talking to each other. The class started. It progressed through a few concepts; there were so many potential jokes I could scratch my eyeballs from not telling her; but I was me, I had the patience of a stork, you can’t move me – she had to make the first move.

“Sanu.”

Ah yes, truce was near.

“Han…”, I suppressed my excitement.

“I am not able to stay without talking”

Oh yes, finally!

“ME TOO!”

We laughed, and caught up all the jokes we had been meaning to crack through the entire day. The ice was broken. While going back in the car to home though little vestiges of the fight could be seen; and I wondered were marks, entrances more important than friendship?!

Sikha calmly replied, “Of course. If I get in a medical college, would I give you my seat?”

That sentence seemed innocuous when I heard it, but it got deeply embedded to ruin our friendship for good. I wonder if she knew this.

***

When we entered the latter half of class 12, you could see only one thing written on everyone’s face – ENTRANCES.

Nobody was anyone’s friend anymore. Everybody lied – about the number of hours they were putting in to study, the number of hours they wasted, the place they were roaming; when they were just sitting at home and studying. You could see an MCQ book in everyone’s hand. When normal school classes went on you could find an Aakash Institute Botany module hidden carefully under my desk while a Mathematics class went on.

“Sum no 23, Differentiation, answer please?”, Ma’am droned.

I looked over at my NCERT mathematics book, calculated in my head – “2cos

(2x)”

“Correct! Very good, Parnini”

“0.5 seconds”, Sid congratulated me from the opposite bench. I smiled and went back to the real book which would help me for my entrances. Sikha knuckled me from my side. I looked up annoyed. She made desperate eyeball movements to tease me about a guy’s sudden interest in me. I made a face to show my helplessness.

When classes got over, we dragged ourselves from the schoolroom slower than the slowest snails.

“Everything is ending”, she said.

“No, we are just moving on, to another phase of our lives”, I replied.

“I feel you have changed”, she probed.

I thought about how my father had brainwashed me once again to consider marks above people. How he had scared me that I was too naïve to believe in friendship; that these so-called friends would progress with their careers and leave me behind. How I was wasting time playing best friend in the most important year of my career. How I had been ignoring Sikha’s calls lately.

“No, you have changed. I text you, you see it but you never reply”, I countered defensively.

“You know I use my mother’s phone for texting. Your messages go to hidden folder, and I miss out on them. Also, Boards are near and now she sleeps with me, when can I text back?”

Lies, I thought in my mind. She was preparing for medical entrances as well. I was sure, she was trying to outsmart me.

Dear kids who read me, here’s a tip for you: In life there are bigger things than ruining your friendship for exams. Trust me. You’ll have even bigger exams and the people who’ll actually help you sail through them will be your friends. They are not your enemies – that’s just an unhealthy culture created by our parental generation thanks to media celebrating rankers more than caring about failures who commit suicide under pressure; but when you screw your viva, you’ll need your friends to hug you and get you ready for the next one.

I didn’t know this then. We grew further and further apart. Small things about her irked me. Her disapproval of my crush irked me. Her disapproval of my Carmel friends who had treated me like shit earlier but now were warming up thanks to new found popularity irked me. Even on farewell you couldn’t see us sitting together – it’s the biggest regret of my life.

Boards started and then talking to anyone wasn’t even an option. When boards ended, two days later we had AIPMT. I had spent so much energy for boards that I had none for entrances – and very expectedly I couldn’t even clear the prelims, Sikha did, my father created a scene over it – whatever warmth and missing I had towards her ended. Days were passing by in haze and tears for OJEE. I cleared OJEE Engineering with a rank of 154 and AIEEE as well; OJEE medical was a far shot – I only qualified for a newly built college in my home city. I told at home I’ll take in engineering college; they didn’t agree, it was their dream to see me as a doctor. They decided to send me away to Aakash, Delhi. I packed my bags.

We were in Cuttack station.

I saw a figure close to me which I knew like the back of my hands, standing with a man. It was Sikha and her father. I was leaving the state for a year. Drop years required hard work – I was not supposed to be in touch with anyone. All social media accounts were deactivated. This was supposed to be our last meet.

“Hi”, she said. What a far cry from our old days!

‘Hey”, I said.

“How are you?”

“Okay.”

“What was your percentage in boards? 80?”

“89.7% overall, 94% in science”

“Where did your marks go? Physics?”

“Nah. I got 96 in that. English. . .”

The ice was broken. We started laughing. An ex-ICSE student had performed shittily in English in CBSE Boards exam and ruined her aggregate. We talked comfortably after the. She didn’t let me apologize for my behavior over the past few months.

The breeze was odd or the lighting. It felt eerie, like something was ending. It felt like our last meet.

She was advising me in her characteristic Sikha way who needed to baby sit me.

“See, Sanu, you are very gullible. Don’t let people take advantage of you. I can’t take care of you from now on. No one else will.”

“Okay.”

“Be careful when you fall for a guy, you know your taste is pathetic.” Ha-ha! This one’s so relevant even now!

“Study hard and get through medical entrances. Don’t get diverted.”

“Yeah. You too. Take care.”

My train arrived. I bade her goodbye.

That was our last meet. The last time I saw her.

 

***

Dear Sikha,

Sanu here. 7 years have passed since you are gone. You would have been 27 this year. The world has changed a lot. We have free calls and WhatsApp now – imagine the amount of money we wasted to talk to each other? Such luck kids these days. Do you know we are under lockdown for Corona? Apparently, some virus has hijacked the entire world and my life.

My life you ask? It’s very different from the way you left me. I can talk now. I can be angry now. I can express to some extent now. Can you believe that? I used to write in the back of notebooks poems which you read and now I write on blog and leave it for the world to see.

I am still a drama queen; just that instead of you my best friend Ani gets to see it. You would have liked her – she was just like me when you adopted me as your Sanu. I am the Sikha to her. I protect her the way you protected me, but now she doesn’t even need that; just the way I didn’t need towards the end and left you – which is a good thing, I guess. She has matured to take care of herself. Sometimes when she doesn’t talk to me, I feel as if history is repeating, and I think of the way I treated you. You must have been so alone. I am so sorry. You told me how all your friends had treated you and I became the same. I am sorry. I hope you have found peace. I hope you have found love.

I did. I never told him. You said I should beware of guys, I did just that and let a lot of moments slip into silence and tomorrows. I am regretting now. He has genuine eyes and a silent demeanor. You would approve of him too. I wish you could advise me what to do about him. I really need a Sikha right now. No one has taken care of me the way you did after you are gone. You were right, I couldn’t have another you. I didn’t even want a best friend for years – Ani practically forced herself into my life. She has that quality. Irritatingly lovable git. Maybe love will force his way into my life too. I hope so; but then, both of never had any luck with love, no?!

I am happy now. Happier than I ever was then. I am done with MBBS. That was a dream stronger for you than mine. Did I tell you I dreamt about you once after your death? You were wearing a completely white salwar suit with a flowy white chunni – YOU! IN A SALWAR SUIT! I literally rolled out of my bed laughing. It wasn’t you, was it?

After you died, I wanted to go to your funeral – papa, mama never let me as I am too sensitive – I wish they had, I would have got closure. For two days I sat in shock on the swing, crying, not studying for entrance exam which was 7 days away, not meeting any one until Ronak called me and talked to me for hours. He died too, one year after you were gone. I lost the closest semblance to best friends I had ever had in a short span of time. People used to come back in holidays to meet their friends and post stuff and my true friends were dead. No one from DPS stayed in touch. Our batch and our group felt so cursed – three dead. Whenever I went to Sector 5, I would look at your house but never dared to enter – entering meant accepting you are dead. I can’t . . . couldn’t accept you are dead.

Not talking to you was my biggest regret – which is why I started giving more than required of me to people. Now that is my biggest regret. They don’t understand why I live my life like it’s the last day– because they haven’t felt the pain of how abruptly, how shockingly, how without any notice life can be snatched away. They don’t understand how your favorite person in the world can be snatched from you; and all you are left is with regrets, silence and writing in a blog which everyone can read but not you. They don’t understand why I am nice to them or overly emotional or loving – that’s just penance for not being that to you. They don’t deserve it. Most don’t.

Sometimes I feel you’re looking over me, seeing what I am doing, seeing how your Sanu is living life after you’re gone – is that why I am unable to forget you? I admit, the intensity has decreased, now you’re just a blip in the back of my mind; but then – “Do the ones we truly love ever leave us?”

Love,

Sanu

PS: Let this be the last time I ever mention you. RIP.