The One Long Lost

She gets up, flicks away that stray strand of hair from her round face, and thinks about that melodramatic moment she is so sure she would have some day. And no- its not about walking down the aisle with her prince charming. Its something simpler…

Being reunited with a long lost friend of hers. Period. One might wonder if such a wish could have had the capacity to induce daydreaming or hallucinations, but yea, that was pretty much what dominated majority of her time, thoughts and actions. Every stranger was looked at twice; social media sites were combed to the point of technology abuse. All with nothing but disappointment.

(We human beings are strange creatures. We take pride and feel a sense of exclusivity in being called “strange”. Think for hours about things we don’t claim to give a damn. We belittle the weirdos, the misfits, the rebels; whilst secretly wishing we had their courage..)

She perches atop a bench after her morning jog. Wanders back into yesterday. How she and her friend used to pass notes and chat sneakily during lecture hours. How her friend had gone gaga over some guy whose named rhymed with “ajax”. Those countless hours spent at the library, hoping to get a glimpse of him. She was her wing-girl, or so it seemed. The love which was supposed to be eternal; the one which barely lasted a month. And the thought brings a smile to her lips.

(No, not all categories of humanly affection could be labelled love. Not all categories of human affection could be labelled, for that matter. We don’t have answers or explanations for every single thing that happens, and , perhaps, neither does the almighty…)

They did share a bond. That she wash sure of. Not else would she have confided in her about her family, her parents and her late mom. She talked about her dreams, about her mom promising to take her to a better place. Away from her father and step-mother. How she longed to be with her!

The surge of memories brings her back to her Laptop. Google. Typing. 1657238 results found. None match her criteria. The thought of whether her friend would be alive or dead momentarily makes her panic. It was surreal – the intensity of the will to search her, despite the years. 7 long years without so much as an attempt at contact initiated by her friend whatsoever. Whereas she had successfully invited the wrath of 15 namesakes who called her a freak for sending incessant messages and invites. “Would she be thinking of me too”? she listlessly wonders, and hurriedly distracts her mind. She somehow knows the answer…

(Some people stay stuck in a moment. Some people choose to move on. Then there are people who want to move on, but just aren’t able to. However, the worst of these sufferers probably are the ones who stay stuck in memories of not what something was, but what they thought it had been. Its like falling in love with a reflection – disillusioning, depressing and  futile.)

Yet again she woke up from a dream with tears streaming down her face. This time, she had finally met her at the pharmacy and cried tears of joy. This was pretty much the usual plot, except the scene in the dreams used to change with the places she used to frequent. She could not help but wonder if her fixation was weird. Suddenly she felt miserable, like the lone keeper of an empty contract. She promised herself she would try one last time before giving up. She thought about her boyfriend, and wondered what he would have to say on this.

(You did give it all you had, and it amounted to nothing. Be wise. Its time. Time to let go of it all.. Its time to free your mind. Its time to set those thoughts free. Your role in the story is over; its getting late and now is the time to leave.. Yes, its time…)

And then she did see her. On a scooter, across the street. Yes, it was her alright!! She rushed forward, her arms flailing…

Nothing melodramatic happened. In fact, she didn’t even stop her scooter sighting her. A smile of recognition, and gestures indicating that she would stop and have that melodramatic moment with her some other time. As if the bond had never existed… Honking cars made her realize she was still standing in the middle of the street.

She took a step back. Composed herself. Smiled at the fact that her friend was well. At the closure she knew she herself needed. Dug into her pocket for a 7 yr old piece of frayed satin, and off that friendship band with her name written on it flew..


The one long lost…


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