The Friend Who Was… 

8 August 2016.

Dear The Friend Who Was,

I was reading the posts on Terribly Tiny Tales tonight and as part of the Friendship Week, they are posting all kinds of letters addressed to all kinds of friends… And one letter hit me right where it hurts. A letter addressed to an ex-best friend. And it made me think of you… But I’m not sure if that letter accounted for all that I had to say, because I am not sure if I can actually call you an ‘ex’. 

We never had a showdown, no horrible words exchanged, no nasty looks. We just woke up one day and the world had changed. Our worlds had changed. And while dealing with a world that didn’t include each other, we forgot to officially terminate the friendship. So you aren’t a thing of the past…not yet, anyway.

I see your silhouette, watching me as I walk down the other side of the street. I wave to your retreating back just as you drive past, in a hurry to ignore who you had just seen. I see you at cafés, joking with friends… Someone else sitting at what was once, my place. I dream of you some nights, catching up on those chats that have ceased in real life. I listen to songs you dedicated to me, just to make me grin. I still do break into a grin but now, it is tinged with nostalgia. Of a helpless kind.

I still walk down those lanes where we used to meet each other. Timed so perfectly that you walked up the street just as I turned round the corner and walked toward you. I still peer through the gates of what was once our childhood playground. I haven’t been inside the gates for quite some time. I can’t. Not without your welcoming eyes standing there, once again. 

I still drive down those roads but my gaze is flitting around, hoping for a glimpse of you. All those memories, all around the city…they distract me, they haunt me, they disturb me.

I hear your laughter in my ears, late at night. I miss our random chats, up to date, right till the latest sneeze. I long for a loooong phone call, across continents. I wish to ring your doorbell once, and ask you, ‘What happened?’ 

I know you wouldn’t answer. I doubt there is an answer that both of us would agree to. We walked away, wrenching our hearts away… Leaving behind a friendship – shaped  void. And without a parting glance. I don’t know what really happened, why we are where we are today. Your image is fading, day by day, in my mind and yet your memories are as fresh as ever. I keep them close because they are the only reminders of you.

The Friend Who Once Was…


Raining Happiness… 

03 August 2016

Some mornings,  you just wake up with a black cloud floating over your head. You walk around with a sullen expression, your patience wears thin and you keep to yourself, as much as possible.

This ‘rainy’ mood is unlike the usual you and you mutter to yourself, ‘It’s not gonna be a good day ahead!’ True to your word, the black cloud keeps you company as the day moves, oh no, draaaags ahead. At work, things go wrong…frustrations rise high, irritation levels go overboard. You prepare yourself for what seems like an endless work day. 

As you leave for the day, you bundle up. It has been raining pretty consistently for the past two days and you don’t want to get wet. Or perhaps you do… You ditch the raincoat pant and think, ‘What does it matter? Anyway, I am going home!’ Perhaps you also have faith on the Rain Gods…that they won’t make it pour so much. 

But remember the black cloud? Of course it is going to pour! And pour it sure does!! As you manoeuvre your way through endless traffic, you feel the patience wearing thin again. You get drenched from the waist down, puddles dirty your footwear, and you get sprayed by mud enough number of times to lose count. 

Yes, it has been a bad day. It has been a long day. But maybe, just maybe…it wasn’t that bad after all. Because while you were muttering under your breath about the irresponsible citizens who jam up the roads, there were two young boys cycling their way home. Dressed in simple Tshirts and shorts, they cycle past you. The you so bundled up in rain gear that you don’t let a single rain drop tickle you into a joyous mood. The you so busy being mad at the world that you overlook the refreshing wetness of the rains. The you so tired of routine that you don’t realise this unexpected escape offered to you. 

The pouring rain brings back childhood memories. The pouring rain brings along with it the whiff of roadside eatables. The pouring rain brings back the deliciousness of mud that has currently painted you over. The pouring rain washes away all your day’s troubles and reminds you that a fresh day awaits on the other side.

The black cloud drains away, as it rains happiness on me…