I saw her today, a bit taller than the last time we met and then, I noticed her heels…
She was always a sweetheart, Anamika, my best friend. While the world got themselves pampered at beauty salons, my dearest preferred to spend her bit on me. We became friends back then when I had my front teeth missing and she had hers, popping out of the upper jaw. Intelligent, shy, loving- that was Anamika for me throughout the 15 years of my school life and then…
She got admission in the best engineering college of Kolkata and I moved to Delhi to do literature. The seven times a day phone calls started reducing their numbers, our conversations, letters, mails, letters became limited to festivals and formal wishes. While I got my first job as a Montessori teacher, I had no idea whatsoever about Anamika, my oldest friend. Anamika was the one who could actually read the pain of this Montessori teacher who grew up hearing that she is born to write and I thanked God for the irony. While I got busy with my life- two children and chauvinist, dominating husband, I never had enough time to even wonder how Anamika has been.” Is she as lean a she was? Is she happy?” Anamika somehow dissolved in the dusty warmth of my golden days…
She wore a white salwar with beautiful silver bangles and yes, I saw it correctly, she actually had kohl in her eyes, my Angel who did not even know how mascara differs from blush on, today, has changed with straight silky hairs that once resembled jute sticks. She was standing outside a mall. I thought I would call her but I looked at myself and what I have become with a sari that had a few holes, tanned skin, hard tough hands, a 10 year old watch which said I need to reach home before my husband does. “Will she recognize me today? Today, when the ‘Princess’ of Anamika has died?” I thought…
Before I could decide, I saw her going away in a black car. She went and I lost her yet again but this time, maybe for good...
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