Radha and I.

Radha and I were best friends, the kind that other girls envied. We laughed for the same silly jokes, we had similar tastes (I would later realize just how similar), we were both toppers in our classes and we could make each other laugh and cry. And we were fiercely protective about each other.

And still I broke her heart. I tore it into little shreds that reflected not a bit of my love for her, my almost painfully intense love for her. I broke her heart fully knowing that she let me do it, knowing that I had the power to do it. And I broke it because I let one weak moment of envy overtake my senses.

And now I see her broken in front of me, still holding on to me for support and I hug her in a guilty attempt to console her, my hug a pale shadow of what it used to be - tight, so close that I could hear her heart beat, so close that I felt I would let nothing come in between us. But I did. I came in between us.

***

I was the prettier one ("Kalpana, some poor guy will fall down hard for those big brown eyes of yours"). She was not what you might consider beautiful, but if you took the time to look, you will notice a delicate, almost vulnerable feeling about her, the kind of feeling that wants you to protect her from all the evil in the world.

But, how can I protect her from me?

Radha always used to say, "Kalpana, you will marry a rich NRI and then what will I do Deekra?" Deekra, Deekra - her honey-like words swirled around me to haunt me at nights, Deekra, like a mother calls her child...

"Radha, enough with this nonsense! I don't want to marry a stupid NRI with a false accent! I want to go to exotic places, I want to do my MBA, I want to fall madly in love with a romantic city and make it my own...I don't want to spend my life, catering to the needs of Mr.NRI!"

She would look shocked. My dear Radha, so naive, so genuine in her feelings, even then I could never give back what she gave me so generously - trust, steadfast and complete.

"Kalpana...", she would begin hesitatingly, "do you think someone will fall in love with me? Maybe if I had been a bit more tall and fair, like you...you have the face of an angel, Kalpana!"

And I would disagree, my eyes are too small, my legs too thin, while I secretly accept the praise that she heaped on me.

"Come on Radha! Who cannot fall in love with you? You are smart, witty and perhaps the best wife that a man could hope for!"

And for the smile that would light up her entire face, what would I not give up? How ironic that I, the sentry guarding this delicate smile on her face, would wipe it all away...until all that remained was a face devoid of the life that had made it sparkle.

***

We stayed at a Girls hostel, Radha was in her final year of B.Sc Physics and I was in my final year of BA, Literature. We would often end up staying late, many nights to complete our assignments or prepare for an exam but would spend most of the time talking. I never tired of our conversations, probably because Radha always let me talk. She listened as a mother would, to her child. Sometimes, she would sing, if I insisted and I would fall asleep, listening to her voice. I always envied her voice, smooth and carefree, passionate and powerful, very unlike her self. Maybe it was her voice that killed our friendship, maybe something so pure and compelling should not have existed at all, if only her voice had been a little more coarse, her sense of melody not so flawless...if only, he hadn't closed his eyes to me, to hear her sing...

He, the he that our lives entwined around, struggling for a hold, until one of us had to let go...and Radha being who she was did let go. What she did not know was that I made her let go.

Anand, the joy of our lives. The joy that we both wanted to capture and hold in our hands, the joy that I snatched from her life?

He studied at a nearby Engineering college. Radha was selected as our college candidate for the intra-college individual singing competition. I stuck along for moral support. Our college bus took us, along with other participants on a rainy Thursday morning. We played anthakshari in the bus, joked about the boys in the Engineering college, shared girly secrets and laughed...perhaps we had laughed too much then, perhaps we cried later to make up for that bus trip.

I saw him first. Tall, lanky, a stubbled chin, a cap worn backwards, a tshirt declaring, "I don't care!", jeans that looked like they had not been washed for years and the most bewitching eyes that a man could have! I hated him for trying to be cool and I turned back to look at him thrice. I stealed a glance at Radha and she seemed lost, silently mouthing the song that she was going to sing, boys nowhere in her thoughts, certainly not this kind.

"Hey Anand, one of the girls is a no-show for the singing competition! Substitute her?"

So Anand must be some events-coordinator guy...

"Hmm...let's wait until evening. What's her name?"

"Radha...Radha Shiv...something"

I felt Radha break out of her reverie. She rushed towards them and said, in a breathless voice, "I am Radha...sorry, we got delayed!"

"No problem babes, the competition isn't until 5", and with a grin the two guys vanished into the crowd. "Babes?" That's so not cool.

And to my surprise, Radha turned to me and said almost shyly, "What was his name? Anand?"

And I wondered why I didn't like the sound of that name in her mouth.

***

A pleasant breeze rustled the leaves in the trees, they seemed to sway lightly to and fro, a flock of birds flew across the sky and even the fluttering of their wings seemed to carry a rhythm, a light rain fell on me and it was as if I noticed all this just in a corner of my mind, a frame that resonated with the pretty picture in front of me, my Radha singing on stage. And even as she sang, I knew she would win, her voice seemed to flow all around us and take us with it...I closed my eyes and heard her sing, no words, just the sound of her voice.

She finished and it was as if a spell had been broken, a pause and then suddenly everyone started clapping at once, I clapped the loudest. I looked around to capture the expressions on the faces around me so that I could tell Radha, I couldn't wait. Until I saw him clapping.

He was standing, clapping with a careless abandon, his eyes focused unwaveringly on Radha and that was when I stopped clapping, that was when I lost the smile on my face. And as I watched, he walked up to the stage and held out his hand to her. I watched, almost holding my breath as she extended a shy hand towards him, I watched him hold her hand with both of his hands and shake it. And before I could react, the light drizzle suddenly turned into a downpour, saving me the need to confront my feelings.

As I was about to leave, Radha caught my eye and waved excitedly. I hesitated for an instant, turned back and left. I caught an auto and came back to the hostel, headed straight to the mess and ate everything that I saw. I walked back alone to my room and started leafing through an old issue of Women's Era.

She came in after an hour or so. I heard her footsteps near the door and wondered what I would tell her.

"You didn't wait for me...you didn't even come with us in the bus..."

"I had a headache and you seemed to be too busy to notice me anyway..." My words sounded false even to me but to my surprise she said, "Deekra, sorry, please don't be angry."

She sat down next to me and leaned against my shoulder.

"Deekra, am so happy, Anand told me he thought I would surely win. He said..."

"Radha, you didn't ask me if I liked it?"

"Kalpana, what's come over you today? I don't have to ask you, I know you liked it, it's one of your favourite songs, remember?"

And then she started humming the song, I closed my eyes and tried to forget what I felt, standing in the rain, and slowly the image dissolved and soon I sang with her too, in a voice high-pitched and a bit too cheerful, as if to make up for what happened earlier.

***

Things moved pretty fast after that day. The more Radha talked about Anand, the more she described his bold antics and exciting talk ("An adventure, Radha, marry me and I promise you a roller-coaster ride for life!"), the more she confided her own feelings for him, the more distant I felt from her. I wished I could scream at her and make her stop. But, I did not. I heard every single word she said about Anand and at night, wondered if maybe a quirk of fate had delivered Anand to her instead of me. What if I had talked to him first? How could he fall in love with Radha then? Radha, who was shorter and fatter than me, who...and I suddenly stopped, wondering when I stopped being her friend.

But, that's not true. I still loved her. I still felt a gnawing, rise from the pit of my chest, when I saw her hurt or sad, a feeling that overwhelmed me and scared me for what she could make me feel. And then I wondered, did she feel the same about me? If she did, how could she not see in my eyes, what I felt for him? How could she be so selfish?

A few weeks later, we both sat on the small verandah. I read a novel and she just sat there and smiled at everything. I had an uneasy feeling.

"Kalpana, do you want to come out with Anand and me? I mean, if he is the one - I don't know if he wants to marry me - but if he is, I want you two to get to know each other. I want to know what you think of him, Kalpana."

I wanted to say no, for all the right reasons but instead I said in a light voice, "Sure, why not? He can't be that bad after all..."

"He said his friend, do you remember him from the other day at the competition? wants to ask you out and maybe all four of us could go out for coffee..."

I vaguely remembered a guy talking to Anand that day but I wasn't interested in that guy. I wanted to talk to Anand and what was wrong with that? She wants me to get to know him better...I should, maybe once I talk to him some more, I wouldn't feel jealous anymore, maybe I would like him much less...

"Kalpana...?", she placed a hand on my arm, "Is something wrong? You don't like Anand?", she was studying my face carefully and I wondered if she had read my mind once again.

"I don't know Radha, I'll come because you asked me to but I can't promise to like him."

And I had become a liar too. Jealousy, envy and now lies had made their way slowly into our lives, all because of a stranger! I gripped her hand and said, "Don't worry Radha, I will like him..."

And silently, I told myself - only a little, not so much that it hurts.

***

His friend, Jagan called me and politely asked me out and I said yes. He seemed to be a nice guy but for some reason I couldn't bring myself to be interested in what he said.

That evening, I dressed with care. A bright blue salwar kameez ("It's made for you, Kalpana!"), long earrings that dazzled when they caught the light, bangles (I can't remember when I wore them last) and my long hair left loose.

"Do you think I should wear a saree? No? Too old-fashioned?", Radha asked as she rummaged through our cupboard, she picked a saree and a salwar kameez and held it out to me, when she saw me, her mouth dropped.

"Why Kalpana? You look stunning! Jagan is a goner today!" and I laughed along with her, wondering if I had indeed dressed so carefully for someone that I had spoken ten minutes to. Why not? I had only seen Anand once, how could I be dressing up for him? I shook my head, as if to shake my silly thoughts away.

I noticed that Radha had picked a plain looking salwar kameez for herself, her haid tied neatly in a pony tail, as if she had decided not to compete. With me. Did she know?

And even before I could push it away, a voice spoke in my head, "How can he fall for her when you are with her?"

We caught an auto to the Coffee shop and waited nervously outside, both of us lost in our thoughts. Radha had been silent through out the ride but I was too involved in my worries to ask why.

"Radha!", he waved as he parked the bike. Jagan let out a low whistle when he saw me and I hoped he had heard that.

We walked inside and sat down at a booth, Anand and Radha facing Jagan and me.

"So, Kalpana", I looked up almost immediately, the first time he said my name and my heart was beating so fast, I was scared he would hear it, "Radha tells me you are her best friend and I have no hope of capturing her heart unless you give the go ahead?"

"Radha says the silliest things, Anand. So, shall we order?"

And every time Anand started a conversation with "Radha", I ended up saying something mean, subtle but stinging. Radha was strangely silent throughout.

Even as we ate, I couldn't stop thinking of him, I hated the way his hands lightly rested on her shoulders, I hated the way he whispered to her, asking her if she liked her food, I hated him and I hated Radha.

After our awkward dinner, we broke up in pairs, Anand with Radha and Jagan stuck with me. We stood just enough apart to not be able to hear what we said.

"Kalpana, do you know Anand from before?"

"Uh...no, I saw him at the music competition..."

I could hardly concentrate on our conversation. I kept stealing a glance at Anand and Radha. He sat casually on his bike and held her hand. What did he see in her?

"Kalpana?"

"Oh sorry, you were saying?"

"I am saying, it's not worth your friendship. Don't do it.", and without explanation, he walked towards Anand and said, "Hey, it's getting late, why don't you two love-birds find another time to talk?"

Radha blushed and looked away. Anand grinned. I felt angry and disappointed. We were saying goodbye and he had hardly spoken a sentence to me the whole time.

That night, after we lay down in our beds, I heard Radha's voice in the darkness, "Kalpana, do you like him?"

I pretended to sleep.

"I think he will propose to me...should I say yes?"

"No!" and my head screamed no even as I said it.

She sat up on her bed, "Kalpana, what did you say? Did you say no? Kalpana, look at me!"

And then I spoke the words that I would repent for, for a long time to come, "He hit on me today...I don't like him."

"Kalpana...what are you saying? When? I was with him the whole time!"

"Don't you believe me? Now, he is more important than me?", I was shouting now.

"When...Kalpana, please tell me..."

"When...when you had gone to the ladies room, Jagan left to make a call and Anand asked me out next week..."

"No...no deekra, enough...don't do this..."

I didn't understand what she said. I was too busy crying inside. Why? Why did I do that? I don't know. I am not even sure if I wanted Anand or I just wanted him to not be with Radha, to not see her so completely happy.

Radha said nothing. She didn't even cry that night. The tears would come later. She didn't ask me any more questions and I didn't have the strength to answer them anyway. I was too busy destroying our lives.

***

That was a month ago. A month filled with unhappy nights, Radha cried silently sometimes, sometimes with me. I cried for what I had told her and for what I could not. Now that Anand was no longer in our lives, I began to hover around Radha with a kind of fierce devotion that only guilt can bring. I took care of her, wiped her tears and even sang to her when she couldn't.

Anand called her many times. He even tried to reach me and we both turned away from him. We held on to ourselves and consoled each other for what she had lost and for what I made her lose. But we were once again best friends, bound together by something stronger than before.

***

"And then, what happened? How come I have never met Radha aunty?"

"And then, I don't know, we moved on with our lives. I came to the US to do my MBA, met your daddy and married him. Radha stayed back in Bombay, I don't know whom she married, if she even married...and I don't know why I am telling you all this, Sanju."

Sanjana, my thirteen year old daughter, she shares this quality with her dad - to make me tell her exactly what she wants to know about me, I can't hide anything from her, or her dad. I had told him about Anand and Radha within a few weeks of getting to know him.

"And today, Radha aunty is coming..."

"Are you going to tell her you are sorry, ma?"

"Yes...and many more things that I didn't tell her so many years back..."

We are both silent, when Sunil walks in, "Shouldn't you girls be getting ready for your special visitor? What's all this talking business?"

We both grin and get up to get ready.

The door bell rings at 6.30 PM sharp, always on time, just like before.

I open the door and the years dissolve between us, I don't know how long I stand at the door hugging her or how long the tears continue to fall down my cheeks.

"Deekra, I can't tell you how much I missed you..."

We talk for hours, sharing old stories, catching up on our lives, my MBA, when Radha came to the US, she is happy being a house wife, she doesn't talk much about her husband, I talk continuously, just like old times, about Sunil, about Sanju and me.

And finally, it's time to leave and Radha hesitates at the door, "He is coming to pick me up, he should be here any minute. Kalpana, can I talk to you alone for a second?"

Sanju who has been watching us with her hands on her cheeks, lying stomach down on the floor - her favorite story-time pose, gets up and says, "Yeah, yeah, you girls catch on! I am sleepy anyway...good night aunty, good night ma!"

Radha turns to me and says, "Kalpana, I know. I knew all along. Don't apologize."

How did she know I was going to say sorry? How much more did she know?

She holds my hand and says, "Remember the day we all met at the coffee shop? I understood then and I understand now. That's why I had told Anand that it wouldn't work out. I saw how you looked at him, I saw everything...and I couldn't afford to lose you...I never want to lose you, Deekra."

I stand speechless, still holding on to her hand.

"But no harm done, we are both happy now...aren't we?"

And I hug her once more, like old times, tightly. And when she gets into the car to leave, I try not to notice his face too closely, I try not to think of thoughts that had almost faded, I try not to draw an image of the face that I had fought to forget. And a few seconds later, I recover and walk back in, my past did catch up with my present, but at least now it has completed a circle. I had revisited the past, held on to it for a few seconds and had let go. I notice Sunil and Sanju laughing and throwing pillows at one another. I close the door of my past and walk towards my future. I join in and throw a pillow at them laughing.
***Excerpt***

The harmony in my life.

I sit down on the sand, facing the ocean, far away from whispering couples and boisterous teenagers. In some dim corner of my mind, I notice the beauty of the marked moon, I notice how it catches each of the rising waves, giving it its moment of glory before it dies - like my own life until now? At some sub-conscious level, I feel grateful for the stinging chillness of the wind hitting my face. But today, I will not let the calming elements of nature console me. Today, I want to think, alone.

But instead I cry. I cry for reasons I don't fully understand. I cry until the wind dries my wet cheeks. I cry like a man who has lost, a man who is lost.

And I have neither lost nor am lost. Without her. Because she is still with me.

***
"I am getting married."

Priya says it in one of her matter-of-fact tones. She has several tones, their repertoire, almost a second nature to me, in just two years? I feel I know her like I know myself - natural, instinctive.

So, I do what comes naturally to me. I laugh.

"What's so funny? He happens to be a sensitive, good-looking gentleman..." and she adds, "unlike you!", when I continue to laugh.

"Poor guy. Did he not take a good look at you?"

"He did! And he happens to like me. A lot. He said he liked me from the time he met me first at the coffee shop!"

"Oh...that guy. The oh-am-so-goody-goody-I-will-turn-up-fifteen-minutes-early chap!"

"Yes and that chap has a name - Arvind. OK, Prem, please be serious, for once?"

"As you wish, madame. When do I get to meet him? Obviously you are joking about the marriage bit, right? You didn't already say yes, did you?", I ask in mock anger.

My feeble attempt to make her feel guilty. And I lose, as always. The girl never gives me a chance!

"Of course not. That was just to get your attention. Am not saying yes, until you give the go-ahead, buddy!"

And she tilts her head a bit to the side - something she always does when she is happy - and smiles.

For a moment, I feel a pang of something I can't quite place my fingers on. I touch her lightly on the head and tousle her hair - "I am going to miss you, Priya."

She doesn't say anything, just closes her eyes and leans against my hand for a few seconds.
***
"Excellent", I make a little circle with my thumb and forefinger and Priya's mom laughs.

"Have few more idlis, Prem. You seem to be growing thinner by the day!"

I am about to reply when Priya rushes in, "Amma, do you think I should wear a saree instead?"

She looks adorable.

"You look fat."

"Amma! See what Prem is saying...", she turns to her mom, with a querulous tone in her voice. Her childish pout delights me, I grin and Priya's mom rolls her eyes as if she were settling a fight between two children.

She is still a child, atleast to me. Just as she is about to walk off in a huff, I catch her hand and say, "Arvind is going to be swept off his feet today".

She has such an expectant twinkle in her eye, I suddenly feel protective about her - he better keep my Priya happy. My Priya? I smile to myself - not anymore. I let go of her hand and wonder for the first time, if I really want Arvind to be swept off his feet...

***
That night, she calls me late in the night to tell me all about Arvind.

"I was waiting for mom and dad to sleep. So many questions...do you like him? Does he seem like a decent boy? Did he ask to meet again?"

I interrupt and let her catch her breath, "Well?"

"Well? Well what?"

"Well, do you like him? Did he ask to meet again?"

"Uh huh"

I wait and she says, "Prem?"

"Still here."

"You know how all your life, you wait for this one perfect person? The one person who understands you even when you don't say a thing? The one person who knows you better than yourself? So much so that he completes your thoughts even before you have finished having them?"

I wait for her answer.

"...well, you know, that's kind of impractical. There is no such person. Well, I have you but..." and then she pauses as if her own words confuse her.

I realize I am holding the receiver tightly and I also realize I am holding my breath. Why? She is my friend and I should be happy for her. But, all I feel is a slight sense of relief that her perfect guy is just a figment of her imagination and Arvind is none of those. I assume.

"...but you know, Arvind is sweet, patient and he adores me. He has that look in his eyes, you know what I mean? I can go on waiting for the right person and maybe I will never find him...but I just know that Arvind will keep me happy..."

I still say nothing.

"So?"

"So..."

"Will you meet Arvind?"

"No."

Why did I say that? I should want to meet Arvind now, to make sure he is right for Priya - I am after all her best friend, I should do this for her...

And I hear myself say again, "No, Priya, not tomorrow. This week is not good for me..."

"Prem, you promised! You have to meet him. He is waiting for me to say yes..."

"Oh?"

"...or no. Please, will you meet him sometime this week? I have told him so many things about you..."

The idea of this stranger knowing me intimately, as Priya knows me, infuriates me. I know I am being irrational but several other feelings overpower the practical me.

"Why? You don't have to go behind my back, talking about me, to your sweetheart!"

"Prem, stop being silly. Remember the time when we went forty five minutes late to the carnatic music concert and we tried to bribe the gate-wallah to let us in...I was telling Arvind about that and we had such a laugh...you must..."

"I suppose he had a good laugh and preached about why I must be on time?"

"No...Arvind..."

"Priya, all this talk about Arvind is getting really tiresome. Can we do this someother time? I have an early morning conference call to attend..."

"Prem...ok", she says in a small voice and I know she will cry after she hangs up.

And still, I say bye and hang up. That night, sleep eludes me for a long time. Early morning, I have a dream about Arvind and Priya laughing and pointing...at me! I wake up, feeling just not right.

What is the matter with me? Am I just not ready to let go? Or am I confusing friendship with something else? Why is it that a part of me wants Arvind to hurt her so that she comes running to my arms? That can't be love - I shouldn't want to hurt if I am in love...

I make up my mind. It's just best for her and for me, if I move away from her, for sometime. Time will clear my thoughts and direct our lives. Time...that's all I need.
***
The next few weeks, I feel miserable. I don't return her calls. Her emails to me still announce that they are unread. I avoid her, perhaps hurting myself more than am hurting her. I hardly stay in my apartment, making my working days as long as possible and working even during the weekends.

One dreary Saturday afternoon - it had rained the whole day; I remember because she walked in slightly shivering, rain water dripping from her clothes - she decided I had given time enough time to steer our lives. She decided it was time she took our lives into her hands.

She sits down next to me. The silence around us interrupted only by the constant pitter-patter of the rain outside.

"I am sorry."

"Yes, you are."

"I just thought I needed some time to sort out...my life. Without you."

"You can't."

"Sorry?"

"Your life is a mess", she smiles and it's as if everything is the same between us, "What makes you think you can sort it out without me?"

I smile at her and fight back an impulse to hug her tightly.

"You think I will run away that easily and let you live your life the way you want to, you idiot?"

She continues, "I can't let go that easily, Prem. I know that you can't either."

And I suddenly wonder who the child in our relationship is.

"Priya, I know that. I don't ever want to..."

But, she doesn't let me complete what I wanted to say. Instead, she talks about Arvind. She likes him. She wants to say yes and she is still waiting for me to say yes.

And I say yes. Just like that.

"But, you haven't even met him!"

"Yes, but I have heard a hundred things about him, from you. I am sure he will be a nice and boring husband - no surprises! And if he is not, I will kill him for you."

We laugh together and I wish, I could make that moment last forever.

***
I know she is probably getting ready for her engagement tomorrow. I know I should probably be with her now. I just can't bring myself to face us together, one more time. So, I walk to the beach and sit down at her favourite spot. It reminds me of time spent in her company, of laughter, of friendship - of all the things close to my heart. And then I cry.

I am not sure how long I have been sitting there. I think about friendship and love. I think about Priya and Arvind and I know we have taken the right decisions in our lives - Priya and Prem...

I know it is Priya. Even before her hand touches my shoulders. Even before she sits down next to me and takes my hand in hers. I just know. And these are the little things that confuse me - this feeling of nothingness, lightness when she is around, it's as if there is not another person sitting next to me - I can be myself - boring, witty, caustic, funny, whatever I want to be because I know she will understand...

"I thought about it for a long time too", she looks at the waves as she talks and for once, I see their turbulence reflected in her eyes.

The wind carries her hair all around her tear-stained face, hiding it from me. She tries to smoothen out stray strands of hair with her right hand and the moonlight reveals a bride's delicate hand - the mehendi has not even dried.

"Arvind knows am here...with you. Everyone's so excited - my parents, Arvind...they are all talking about the engagement and I just needed to be alone, to listen to the voices in my head. But, then I realized, I just wanted to hear you talk. I knew you'd be here."

We sit there, seemingly no different from the other couples who sit at the beach that day - holding hands. But we don't whisper like them - the silence between us talks for us. I know we are different because we are friends. We were meant to be friends. To be anything else would be unnatural, incomplete. And that night, holding Priya's hand, I know as she does that we will always be friends.

"I love you Priya. I should have said this a long back, without hurting you...I love you as I can love no one, perhaps not even my wife."

"And I love you too...",

It's as if the wind is whispering those words to me.

"...in a way, I can never love Arvind. I am sure I will be insanely possessive about him, I would not want his eyes to even dare to settle on another pretty woman, I would want to own him, make him mine and I am looking forward to that. But you...are different. I don't want to spoil what we have by trying to thrust newer meanings to it. Its perfect as it is."

It was as if she had just read out my thoughs to me. And she - my thoughts - convinced me that our decision was taken if not rightly, atleast for the right reasons. Sometimes, we gain by letting go but I had everything I wanted, I was letting go to gain nothing, to lose nothing. I was letting go so that I could still hear the harmony I hear now - in the waves, in her words, in my thoughts - years later when I want to hear it again.

And then, I hug her, without guilt, without thinking - my moment of glory. And I know she will always be with me.

***
***Excerpt***

The Last Laugh.

The ceremony was small, unpretentious, heart-wrenching. No loud bawls, just tears silently shed. No stories exchanged that sung his praise, just a collective silence that recalled special moments that were shared with him, special because he made them special. The crowd soon dispersed, close friends stayed back to clean his apartment. A forty year old bachelor cannot expect to have a family to cry for him. His life and now death were no different.

A small apartment, neatly maintained – a living room, kitchen and a bedroom with two closets. Silently, methodically, they started collecting his possessions, each small object – an old football with their names scrawled on it, a faded photograph from their college days, his favourite T-shirt - only your wife will change you, they had claimed – summoning a fresh surge of tears, until they could cry no more. The frail woman clad in a black saree looked the most devastated, she often took deep trembling breaths and hung on to anything she could place her hands on, for support, her lips quivered but made no sound. The two men in the apartment were lost in their own memories, trapped in their own mental turbulence to help her. Friends for life, they had proclaimed proudly and happily. He had broken his promise, unexpectedly, unfairly – or so it seemed to them.

The woman walked, unseeingly, towards the bedroom and slowly started collecting his belongings; each movement seemed to take forever, her brain refused to respond, her heart, still in denial. She picked up the neatly stacked novels gently and placed them in a cardboard box. She stared at the picture on the cover of a novel for several moments – a happy picture, a man and a woman laughing, holding hands and walking down the street – she blinked a few times to look at the picture through her tears and traced her index finger along the man's face, life seemed to have come to a halt. The simple picture drew several powerful images from her past and painted them in front of her eyes; she closed her eyes and sank down - an absolute surrender to her emotions.

She was introduced to him by a mutual friend, she had nursed a crush for him, for quite some time. The first few years, she even thought that their relationship might lead to something romantic eventually; she did not realize when the definition changed. Suddenly, they were friends, and suddenly the bond had grown stronger than it ever was. He was always there for her, until today…

She dusted invisible cobwebs from the cupboard and started placing the old greeting cards, audio cassettes and trinkets into the box. Several cards were from her, proudly displaying years of careful maintenance…a small notebook fell down and she picked it from the floor – a heart was drawn on the cover, broken and over it his familiar scrawl, "Broken…still beating, for you". She had never seen him as a romantic, and she knew there was nothing about him that she did not know…yet the writing was definitely his. In spite of herself, curiosity prompted her to open the diary.

Today, yellow is her color…and mine! She is dressed in a yellow half-sari, blue pavadai…her hair is still wet, little curls bounce off her forehead, no anklets today but when there is music all around, I little need the sound of her anklets to make me dance…she is late again to zoology class, every second I panic – what if she does not come today? But there she is, my one indulgence, my one love…

Her eyes automatically looked down at the next entry dated the next day, again a few lines but just as mesmerizing and heartfelt...

Splitting headache, maybe because I dreamed that she would not be mine? If she will be by my side only in my dreams, I can desire nothing but eternal sleep…but even my dreams betray me!

She read, skimmed frantically, perplexed, not wanting to understand...

She cried on my shoulder today; I wanted the moment to last forever. I want her to lean on me throughout her life and I want to cry with her and care for her, forever…am I selfish? No, how can I be selfish? Every bit of happiness within me quells with her every tear drop…I ask not for her to cry. I plead for her to let me trail by, like her shadow, so that my heart knows what to feel, looking into her eyes…I feel because she does. I am because of her.

As if in a trance, she turned a few pages over, scared to comprehend what she feared it would convey…

Yesterday, we held hands…she did not let go of them the whole evening. I still feel her hands in mine – they are so soft, I am scared I will hurt her if I hold them tightly. We walked on wet grass, every little thing delights her – a butterfly, a rose, sunrise, my silly jokes. I want to talk to her till I can talk no more. Should I tell her what I feel? I am scared she will flit away like the butterfly…but her hands seem so right in mine, does she not feel the same?

More limericks, thoughts and doodles later, his past swirled in front of her, memories that they shared intervened and the pieces of the puzzle seemed to assemble themselves, new meanings extended their hands to her and she caught a reflection of herself in every precious line in front of her. Forgotten phrases made a quick appearance...

"Of course, I love you, you do know you are the one woman who can tolerate me, don't you?"

"Stay with me forever...I might just die laughing!"

"I can ask myself the question or you, it's all the same to me..."

She had lost count of the number of times he had made her play the guessing game with her, "Name the girl in my dreams and I am your slave for today!" She had laughed and indulged his innocent game, five, six names later, she would always give up and they would forget about it until the next time they played the same game. She had never been able to name her and had assumed there was no her.

A thousand "What ifs" surrounded her - what if they were meant to be together? Had he died of loneliness because she had been blind? Did she not recognize love that was so evident in the words that spoke to her today? He had been the perfect friend...maybe he was destined to be more and she had turned her back to her own destiny.

Inexplicable emotions gripped her and unconsciously, her eyes moved to the source of her uncertainty, despair, sadness, love...she resolutely turned to the last page of the diary.

Anjali, Anjali, Anjali...

She held her breath. She could almost hear him whisper her name...

Caught you? Didn't I? You were right after all, there was no girl. But, I did get you thinking there, for a while, didn't I ;)? If this book is in your hands, it only means one thing and I know for sure I will miss you, wherever I am. Ever yours.

The two men who came rushing into the room looked at each other in confusion. They had no idea. He had managed to make her laugh, one last time.

***Excerpt***