I Meet an Old Friend
I contemplated looking up old
friends. Quite a few of them had, like me, moved out. One or two were in Delhi,
but we had never connected after the first couple of phone calls. A few, I
knew, were in Guwahati. But there were a few still in town. Some of them had
got married. One or two had babies.
I went to visit Deepika. She
had been a year senior in school, but we had become friends because she lived
not far from my house and we had taken to sharing an auto to and from school. She
was tall and slender, with a complexion that was the envy of the school: milky
white, with cheeks and lips so pink you would have thought someone had just
pinched them hard. She had shiny straight hair that fell below her waist. Yet
she was no vain beauty: she was modest and shy, and an extremely loyal friend.
I had often invited her
home. When I was in my last year of school and she had joined college, she
often popped in to meet me after classes. I had also visited her house a few
times. She lived in a house shaped like a box with one side missing: each side
was just one room wide and opened towards the front yard. The roof was thatched,
and the walls were made of mud. For furniture, there were string cots, and
wooden chairs and tables. Yet the people who lived there were very kind and
hospitable: I was never allowed to leave without tea brought in in a tall steel
tumbler, even though Deepika sometimes apologized for the tea being black
because there was no milk in the house.
“Oh, I prefer black tea,”
I would lie, hoping that even on days when there was milk, they wouldn’t give
me some that was meant for her younger siblings.
Deepika was the oldest of
eight siblings. Most of them went to our school, except for the youngest two,
who were babies then. I had seen her taking care of them: combing one’s hair,
overseeing another’s homework, breaking up a fight. Her slender form concealed
strength: she used to fetch water from a spring near the bottom of the hillock
where her house was, two buckets at a time. Another of her chores was to gather
firewood from the woods nearby.
The last time I had seen
her was three years ago, when I had come home after my BA classes were over, to
have my last long holiday before I started b-school. She had been very excited
then: she was going to get married. She hadn’t passed her Higher Secondary
exams on the first try, so she too had just finished with her BA exams.
I hadn't been around for her wedding, but I knew her husband slightly, having met him back when I was in school. I knew his house. So one day, after
lunch, as my mom sat back with a book, I went to see Deepika.
I had to ask someone on
the street which their house was: when he pointed it out I realised I had
passed it but not recognised it due to the new coat of paint and a room or two
added on to the old structure.
A pretty young woman
answered the door. I asked for Deepika a little hesitantly, for I had realised
too late that it was siesta time and the girl before me was probably the only
person awake in the house. But she moved off briskly after gesturing me to a
chair.
I sat on one of the wicker
chairs decorated with brightly embroidered cushions. Besides the chairs, the
room had a couple of small wicker tables, and a narrow bed with a bright bedspread
on it. The afternoon sun filtered in through the sheer white curtains. The
walls were blue, the colour of the sky on a summer afternoon.
Deepika came in. We
squealed and hugged, and then drew apart to look at each other. She had filled
out a little, so that she looked more womanly and even more beautiful than
ever.
“You’ve put on weight,” she observed.
“So have you,” I promptly
told her.
“Oh, I’m so glad you came! It’s been so long
since I saw you… My neighbour works at the college and she told me you had come
– she had seen you with your mother a couple of days ago… I was planning to go
see you myself.”
“Well, I came first.”
She gladly told me about
her life. She worked at a new private school in town. “You know how much I love
kids,” she said. “I nurse them more than teach them, really, because I am in
charge of Class 1, and you know what kids that age are like…”
“I am glad. I can totally
imagine you as a primary school teacher.”
“Well, I took the teacher’s
training right after I got married, you know, but then the baby came along…”
“You have a baby? Where is
it?”
She walked to the door and
called to someone inside. She spoke in Karbi: I had forgotten the little I had
learnt of the language.
“My income helps, you
know,” she continued. “Bipul has two sisters, his parents are old: we need all
the help we can get.”
The young lady who had
opened the door to me came in, carrying a baby.
“Here’s my Runjun,” said
Deepika, taking the child from her. She was chubby and had cheeks redder than
her mother’s, and she looked at me with serious dark eyes.
“She’s adorable,” I said,
holding my arms out for her. She came willingly but with no sign of pleasure.
“How old is she?”
“She turned one in October,”
said Deepika. “And this is my sister-in-law, Emily. She’s the younger one. We
got the elder one married last February.”
“And where’s Bipul?”
“He has taken his mother
to a wedding. They won’t be back till late evening, I’m afraid.”
“Oh, well.” I didn’t
really care. I had come to see Deepika.
Meeting Deepika shook away
much of the ennui that had enveloped me. She looked so happy, so competent,
like she had taken on life and got the best of it and was ready for anything
else that might come. I was proud that my shy, timid friend had grown so
strong. I was glad at how happy she looked. And I was a tiny bit envious as I
wondered whether I would ever get that for myself, whether I would ever be
sure, as she seemed to be, that the life I was leading was best for me.
Yet I knew I wouldn’t call
her once I got back. We had been friends at a time when we had been giggly
awkward teenage girls. We had talked about boys we had crushes on or who had
crushes on us. She had helped me buy my first lipstick.
And now, she was a mother,
a married woman with a house to look after and a husband to partner with. Her
income fed mouths other than her own. I had considered that I had moved far on
from my days in Diphu: after meeting Deepika I wondered at how little I had
moved compared to her. I still worried about boys and clothes: she worried
about her baby, about her in-laws, about budgeting and planning for the family.
It was hard to believe that we were the same age.
“Am I too immature?”
Mandakini wondered as I walked back home. “Or have I led so easy a life that my
priorities have become misplaced?”
“I don’t think it’s that,”
Miki countered. “I have had an easier life, true, but I wouldn’t want that
life, would I? I wouldn’t want to be married and have kids and the
responsibilities that go along with all that – at least, not for some time. For
all that I complain about my loneliness, my life is my own. I can stay in bed
late on weekends, I can go out and get drunk if I want to – okay, I don’t
usually, but at least I can. My money is all my own. I like that freedom: I
don’t want to give it up easily.”
13 comments:
There. Bonus chapter. However... it's Diwali and I don't know how many of you will be reading, so... if you're reading, let me know. If not, I'll post the next chapter mid-week instead of Sunday.
here's where i delurk!
am reading am reading :) and enjoying. especially the 'back home' part, the descriptions are keeping me hooked.
sunday please? ;)
- sup
Another reader chiming in. Do post another one on Sunday! :)
If three ayes aren't enough, here's another!
A monday after a long weekend is so boring anyway, I can kill some time reading the next chapter from office. :)
readin, readin.
- Put it up on Sunday will'ya :)
- Old Friends are so special...you know you can start from where you left them and never feel the gap :D
What, only five of you? I guess we'll wait till Wednesday, then :P
Bonus post please :)
This particular part of the story is quite gripping, specially chapter 20. It is SO relatable.
Wonderful narration Unmana....please do post the next chapter asap :)
Love,
N.
First time delurked..but reading reading reading and read (past tense) all the previous chapters as well..awesome! so now that we are more than 5, can you please put up the next chapter!
The bonus chapter is most welcome!
Only 5? Lookie who's acting all pricey. Go on, madame, please post more for us.
Sorry, all. Had a(nother) short bout of illness which robbed me of all the time I thought I had last weekend. And the Guy being around somehow seems to take up a lot of time too. (Yeah, the Guy's back! For good, apparently.)
I'll try to post a bonus chapter later this week.
mad hatter, pj, R's Mom: thanks for delurking.
dipali: Welcome back to the comments section of Unmana's Words. We all missed you (one of us more than the rest).
Pallu: You to don't talk only. You didn't turn up to meet us.
Sowwwiiieee! I was a tad ill, but mostly just sick of work. And I didn't want to step out that day. Besides, I've been pretty nasty to be around lately. If not that, then pretty boring when I clam up... thinking about quitting. Wish moi luck. (Runs out of excuses.)
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