“It is the vapidest Sunday of my life” I sulked while maa tried to cheer me up by playing my favourite music.
“She had promised to meet as soon as she reaches Mumbai. I waited the entire day. Forget about meeting she hasn’t called me or texted yet. Why hasn’t she called me, maa? Did I do something to upset her? Or am I not her best friend anymore ?” I continuously burdened maa with my questions.
“She might be caught up in some work. Stop worrying. Call her after dinner and go for a long walk. I’m sure Meera is eagerly waiting for your call.” said maa assuring my restless soul.
I finished my dinner and quickly grabbed my phone to check for Meera’s text. Unfortunately, there wasn’t any. Now, my patience crossed all limits. Without thinking much, I dialed Meera. With each ring, I realized it’s been six months since we have talked on calls. We barely stayed in touch via text yet I strongly consider her my best friend. What if I am not her best friend anymore! Merely, the thought of losing my best friend made me nervous. The call was left unattended. She didn’t receive my call. In an upset mood, I left the house to go for a long walk. There’s something therapeutic about late-night walks, something that I and Meera became friends over.
As I was moving past the gates of my house, I saw a thin, tall figured lady walking towards me. As the lady neared, I recognized it’s none other than Meera. My face has the biggest smile and so does hers. I leaned forward to hug her but she maintained her distance. I felt odd but maybe that’s how adulthood friendship is! The lesser showcase of excitement. “I was coming to surprise you,” said Meera.
“And here I thought you have already forgotten me” I chuckled. “Your drama never lessens,” said Meera teasingly.
I was going for a walk, do you wanna accompany me or should we go to my place? I questioned, thinking she might be tired.
“No, I want to go on a walk too. I’ve missed our therapeutic walks a lot,” said Meera, her eyes set straight on the road.
“I missed the lakeside park. Let’s walk to the park, shall we?” said Meera.
“Yes, even I miss it. I haven’t been there since you left.”
As we walked past everything, Meera kept on talking about her memories with almost everything. I never came across this side of hers. An emotional attachment to almost everything. I felt great that most of her memories of everything are with me. I’m her best friend, I complimented myself. We finally reached the park. The park was dimly lit with three street lamps. In the lake water, the reflection of the full moon was nothing less than some poet’s poetry.
Awestruck by nature’s beauty, I forgot Meera’s presence.After a while, I saw Meera constantly staring at one end of the park. I walked towards her to ask what’s the matter. Pointing her forefinger towards
the wet soil she said, “this is where I was killed.”