The Old Friend

I wasn’t still sure how I would react when I see him. Meeting your best friend after 12 years is like walking on the chilled streets of Ladakh without sweater, taking bath in sea without knowing how to swim, driving on the dark streets with headlights turned off. Basically it requires guts. Stop with those ridiculous analogies. I scolded myself. I was nervous. Actually more than that. I couldn’t stop myself from thinking what if he doesn’t recognize me, or what if we end up having a simply awkward experience. Reconnecting from those memories after this long is not an easy task. Also, I didn’t have his phone number. How would I, we didn’t have phones back then. I wasn’t sure if he still lived of that address. The only thing, I was sure of was, I would meet him, at any cost.

I then decided to look out of the window, the clouds down there felt like I was on the city of cream. The memories which I shared with Subu started flashing in front of me. I started thinking of times when we used to run around the fields with our 10 year-old legs, which didn’t even know what exhaustion meant.

I also saw us taking bath in the lake in the city. All those memories kept flashing one after the other. From the happiest ones to the painful ones. Then came the memories of the painful partition, where the 11 year-old saw each other for the last time. We promised to be in touch but none of us ever tried to reach the other. Those religious boundaries showed the worst turning point to the selfless friendship of two innocent children who barely knew what was the reason behind all that massacre. I never realized when I slept.

Journey for next few hours was as usual. When I reached the city which was once a little village, I couldn’t figure out many things. But for sure, people now had a bed they could sleep on, safely. No more massacre. I could figure out the lake which was till then turned into a small pond. And finally, I found the address. Things, even though quite changed, were still reconnecting. The same chowk, same streets. Only thing changed was infrastructure.

I then saw a gang of kids playing cricket. I thought of asking them. “Do you know someone called Subu here?” I got the answer by his confused face. I had to ask someone else. I went to a sweet shop. “Bhaiya, is there anyone named Subu? He is 23-year-old.”  Again a disappointment flew over me. My fear was right. They have changed their address. The last hope was gone. I lost the chance of meeting my friend. Just then I felt a tap on my shoulder. “Are you the one who wanted to meet Subu?” someone asked.

“Yeah, could you help me?”

“Sure. In fact, I am Subu. Actually used to be.”

Even if someone didn’t believe God, he would say that’s his biggest proof of existence.

“I used to be Ayan too. By the way, I still am.”

That moment I realized the power of friendship. When we both hugged, none of us was willing to leave the other. No matter how long it’s been, when the friendship is true, bond never breaks.