“We are deeply saddened to inform, our beloved mother Sumedha passed away peacefully in sleep last night.”
42 years of a friendship had come to an abrupt end. Just like that. Another piece of me fallen and turned to ashes. If I was sad for her or for me, I couldn’t tell the difference. The mark of this date was etched for all of my remaining time. This loss was so permanent.
I had woken up from a deep sleep, my morning cup of coffee had turned out perfect, I managed maintaining my resolution of not checking the phone for the first hour of waking up, the newspaper was already at my doorstep – neatly stacked, just like I prefer. Everything was in harmony and the thought of this being a great morning lingered in my head as I went through the science section of the newspaper. People do not get me when they discover that I only read one page of my 50 + pages edition. They tell me how more I can find on the internet without wasting a dime. Thing is, I know all that. I am well-versed with the internet-thing. But I am also an oldschool person. I love print more than screen. The feel of paper and ink against my fingers is my daily sensual satisfaction. Also, I don’t have to lose time and energy to pick topics to browse, the newspaper serves it like a buffet. I only ate desserts.
This morning, I read about the last position of Voyager II in space, a blind female astronomer who listens to stars, a 10mg pill that can combat 5 different infections and how having close friends can elongate life by almost 8 years!
Do you know that feeling of discovering something amazing and sharing it with the one that you first miss? My first thought was to take a snapshot and send it to her. We always shared interesting things. She and I, were not everyone’s regular, middle-aged girlfriends who discussed detached children, scheming in-laws, lack of sex and dying relatives. I could never put up with such discussions and that’s why I only had a single girlfriend and my need to keep her happy was natural and reciprocated.
So much is felt for the family when someone dies. But how many families have members who really know one-another and are completely at peace with their personality? The obligation of behaving properly is so great. There is love and care, no doubt about that, but the weight of responsiblity and also, criticism take away people’s individual beauty. But friends? They know us. There are no obligations. We are chosen, loved by choice. Is there anything more aesthetic? Or any loss greater than the loss of a true friend?
She and I, we were girls on fire! Even at 56, we were creative, knowledge-loving, self-assured women who had visited every little and big café in our city. We had traveled places, went on adventures like paragliding and scuba-diving with pounding hearts. We had been two spirits with the sole purpose of making most of our time after children had fled to their own worlds and husbands had left us behind. We had been soul-sisters, who opened a whole new dimension into each-other’s mind. Together, we were brave. We exchanged exuberant compliments even before any of us could feel useless or lonely. With her by my side, the world had been my friend.
Until the moment I unlocked my phone, I had it all going.
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