The last meeting
We aren't exactly best friends- but we certainly are each other's well wishers, we don't get to meet quite often enough but we are always present in each other's prayers. We are deeply connected by fragile threads of mutual benefit and of course friendship, though we get busy in our lives, we've got our cliques, our jobs, our families, our priorities..
we are just 4 girls studying via distance education… for the same reason in different circumstances- it was the best bet we had, given our situations… little did we know that our lives would intertwine so much that we would become a family of sorts. We meet each other only every once in 6 months- for a week's classes and then for a week's exams. The rest of the time we barely know what's going on in our lives – much thanks to facebook (where we all play ghost) – but when we meet its beautiful – it's like sisters from another lifetime, like a family reunion- the joy, the laughter, the excitement- ek khumar chadhta hai.
I am the first to reach for our last class and I feel after a very long time so sentimental. I see them enter and my heart feels relieved-more like content, we hug and that one touch is enough for us to know that we sail in the same boat. We tease each other, we teach each other, we catch up on moments lost in time, relish those moments of pure friendship that make studying via correspondence so much of a joy, rather than a compromise. Sometimes it's hard to tell whether we attend those classes for each other or for our studies.
Distance they say makes the heart fonder – so does time, we laugh away our worries , struggle to learn our lessons in between all the catching we have to do… we walk the same road- in different lanes for the most part, coming together only sometimes, our priorities pulling us so far apart, we can barely see each other . As we near our destination, we laugh more often than needed, trying to cover up our fear of loss- of friendship and joy.
Our last exam was quite normal than expected, somehow none of us broke down into tears or spoke about anything regarding the fact that this was quite possibly our last meeting, yet silent acceptance burdened every moment. Now we've really grown up – we weren't kids anymore.
I'm always the first to leave (thanks to my very punctual dad ), but today I'm not going with my dad. I stare for longer than needed at my friends as if my mind is a camera recording this moment – I feel like a drama-queen. Today they leave before me, and when we hug we hold longer than usual, when we kiss goodbye- our lips tarry for a blink longer and I can sense the acceptance, catching the words in my throat, reflecting right back at me in their byes, yet causing havoc in my mind.
Later that evening , I ask dad permission to take my friends out for dinner, why he asks, just for one last dinner I plead, ok he agrees, sweetheart it's over he admonishes me. I understand him, I'm in denial of this being our last meeting , I keep wanting to have another 'last meeting' - just so right now I can hope that I will see them again. But do I really want to go through the surge of emotions we feel when we know it's the last time ever, the joy, the sorrow, the gratitude, the angst, the helplessness, the comfort, the tears.
On a second thought- let it be dad, I finally accept.
i just had to post this somewhere :)
Cricket
