tu hi to meri dost hain

​​Do you know any of those girls who go to the beer shop on their own to buy 10 bottles of beer? Okay. I am not being cliché here, but it is rare.

I knew one such girl...she was my junior. Bengali, notorious, rebellious, outspoken but considerate, chai lover, master chef of Cheese Maggie, would roll joints for everyone in the room, average, tiny, hair brushing her shoulders, and won't ever use cosmetic creams.

I remember our first interaction was for college magazine content editing work. We were looking out for juniors; she overheard our conversation in the canteen, later, the same day, she confronted us with her pieces and we were more than happy to include her in the team.

After exactly 4 days, post-midnight, she asked me for suggestions on her content. As it was an in-house campus, we met at the canteen. With the second cup of chai, the final draft was ready by 1.15 AM. While seeping chai, she politely asked me, "what is a date to you? would you call it a date if a girl and a boy go for dinner?"

Till this point in time, I did not know her personality...and this question was tricky for me. With a half-smile, I replied, "do hell with those stereotypes. Let the boy and girl decide if it was a date." She smiled, changed the topic, finished her chai, and we left for our hostels.

Later, our relationship became less of senior-junior and more of friendship! I helped her with faculties, she helped me with college committee work, I helped her with project work, she helped me by bribing the mess manager for extra paneer and sweets.

After the first trimester exams, she asked me for a joint. She had discovered a way to open the door for college stairs. She brought freshly rolled joints, I brought thumbs-up and  VAT69. The world looked calm and cold from the terrace, and the college terrace became our regular getaway point. We always sneaked in post 11 PM. No, we were not in love. There was mutual understanding and mutual respect.

When we were on the top of that water tank on the terrace- we chatted about life, love, hate, friends, relations, death, suicide, birth, my friends, her friends, studies, faculties, post-college life, and typical couples. Everything!

The college terrace water tank and our friendship were no more secrets. We were not ashamed of friendship. Rather, I was afraid of tags and she eventually convinced me to accept it. Post-college outings, long drives, movie plans became a common thing.

I remember it happened after New Year Vacation. When she came back, she was not the same. I was supposed to graduate in the next 3 months. When I got placed in one of the top MNCs, she did celebrate my endeavors, she did support me with mock GDs and interviews. But she was not the same person. She was more awkward.

Post her return from the vacation, it took me one month to notice the difference. I was busy laughing and playing and making memories with my batch mates during those final days. As I noticed the difference, I tried to enquire about it. I got nothing.

Her behavior started to bother me. Soon, I confronted her post farewell party. She was wearing a red gown. It was very unlikely of her...wearing girly clothes, long hair, this time those zumkas brushing her shoulders, heels, and makeup with those cosmetic creams. She smiled and spoke heavily, "you are late." I spotted two diamonds in her eyes. One in each. As I said, it was very unlikely of her.

Being it a final night on the campus, my other friends were calling me for the photo session. I had to go. I excused her saying, "I have a habit of fucking up with good things. You know it. This conversation is not over. I will be back. I don’t want those diamonds to fall. I have my eyes on you. Don’t leave. I will be back within 15 minutes."

However, it took more than 15 minutes for the photo session; she was not in a single pic and I could not spot her in the auditorium. I wanted to call her, but the mobile battery had already died. After recharging the phone, a text message was received, 'I’ll be waiting at the same table in the canteen.' When I rushed back to the canteen, indeed...I was late. The table had a piece of paper with a message- ‘All the best! Yours always, Chutki.’ I realized; I had stood her up.

The next day, while bidding goodbye to everyone, she did not come to see me off. I was shattered. Everyone else was either happy or sad; I was numb.

I tried to make up for my mistakes by calling her. However, she chose to ignore me. Though, her caller tune was 'Tune Mere Jana- Female version,' as notorious as her. My last message was, "I'm sorry. I know what​​ I did was terrible. Tell me…what do you want me to do? I don't want to lose you. Message me whenever you are ready to talk. Keep in mind, I am always there for you. Even if you call me after 10 years."

She finally replied, "I know."

It has been three years now. We don't talk anymore.