We never said goodbye. On the last day of college, when everyone kissed each other goodbye, we didn’t do it. Because I was hounded by the vastness of the belongings that I had to pack. Because I was caught in the middle of a traffic jam and you were left with no time to wait for me to make it in time. Because we believed otherwise. Because we thought that we were moving out to eventually move in back together and live under the same roof. The cynic in me always feared that our plans may be watered down. And later they did.
I have friends and then I have you, a complete league in yourself. You do unfathomable things for me and before I can take it all in, you will be standing at the door with another surprise. No matter how many doors have I tried shutting, you manage to break in or at least slip affectionate notes through them. Barring a few small things, I don’t miss college at all. I just miss the last year, hostel and us. Of you taking me out for coffee even when you don’t drink any. Of you accompanying me to the exam center and waiting to make sure that I don’t elope. Of you bringing cheese macaroni and double coffee to my room on the second floor. Of you listening to what happened in Tumhari Pakhi even when you have zero interest in Indian television. Of you making me watch Small Wonder to cheer me up before an exam. Of you putting aside KG’s assignment to support me during a sticky situation. Of you insisting that I write a blog post and in stead watching me pin strange quotes at 2 am. Of you wanting me to apply for Star India. Of you offering to put money on my book, if and when I decide to write one. Of you sitting through the silence and the crying on that god forsaken day. Of you, always realizing what’s going on in my mind. Of us simply talking, sleeping through those conversations and waking up to more of them. Of you being the ubiquitous force that you were are.
Someone reminded me of how saddening change can be. It took me back to our time and the abominable change we were forced to put up with. Being ourselves, the two people who are unequivocally averse to change, it amazes me how we’ve managed to hold our lives together during the past year. I have missed you through first days and last days, through passing that exam, through blowing the candles, through sleepless nights, through strange dreams, through small talk jitters, through disappointments, through intimidating dental treatments, through silly arguments, through restrained emotions, through quitting writing and beginning to write again. I wasn’t meant to do these alone. It breaks my heart to do everything alone again. But then, after you, I have never been alone. From 300 kilometres away, I know that you have my back. At the end of the day, I am going to call you or text you to tell you what it felt like to stand before, after or in the middle of state of affairs.
We meet every two months for two days and resurrect the most of what we had and what he had imagined our future to be. We immerse ourselves in our stories and the inevitable sarcasm. It is akin to leasing our past for a weekend. And then it is time for goodbyes, that you somehow manage to bail out of every time. As much as it is overwhelming to walk my way out of your home, it instils me with hope at the same time. Hope that it never is goodbye with us.
Holding on to this beautiful hope and an even more beautiful picture of us.