Yesterday I cried the entire day. Why? I felt alone, lonely, isolated. I felt like leaving the city of Bangalore and going back to Siliguri, my home. My tears wouldn’t stop flowing. Everyone in class were staring at me. Some would ask, ” what happened?” I would say “nothing”. They would turn their faces. Two of my friends from school (who shifted with me to the same college, to the same class) were the first ones who remained adamant and wouldn’t budge until I spoke my heart out. I told them. I felt ignored. I felt everyone dislikes me. I am such a disgusting person that I don’t deserve friends, that’s why people ignore me. They consoled me saying, “If people have problem with you, that’s their problem. You don’t stop being yourself. People avoid you, you avoid them back. You be yourself. Be strong. Be on your own and everyone will come to you. If you run to people, they will move away.”

Later when I spoke to my mother, she told me the same thing and also said, ” Not every friend will be like your school friends, the friends you grew up with. Friends come and go, but childhood friends and the friends you make while you are working always stay. Talk to your school friends and I’m sure you feel much better.” I followed her advice and called up my close friend from school at midnight and spoke for around an hour and a half. After that I had a sound sleep (the first day in the last 3 days that I got a good sleep) so much so I woke up late by an hour and somehow managed to reach college on time.

No one can be like our childhood friends, the friends that we make with our irrational minds but they are the very ones to be by our sides all our lives. These “chuddie buddies” have accepted me when i was angry, they accepted me when I was ecstatic. They accepted me in my greatest of follies and smallest of achievements. We would fight almost every alternate minute but the next moment no body, not even ourselves, would realise that we fought a few seconds back. “Ego”, “Formality”- these words never existed in our dictionaries; which is quite the opposite among friends we make later.

Not only that, our friends’ houses are equivalent to our houses, their mothers are no different from our mothers. In case of my college friends I don’t even know where they live, forget about knowing their families.

Sometimes we friends become mothers to each other, reprimanding whenever they take a wrong step. There can be no better advisers than these friends.

I miss our “PNPCs” so much. And the “All- Siliguri Radios” of our group too, who had all the news around the city, “Which girl is dating which guy?” “Which guy was caught double-timing?” “Which couple has reached the third or fourth base?” and so on and so forth. How much ever “unsophisticated” it may be, we love PNPC-ing.

We friends had one thing in common, love for food and novels. We would buy one novel, get to read 10. And the lunch breaks in school……. whenever we reminisce about it, we are bound to be gripped by nostalgia. Those fights over who gets to eat first, those innocent robbery of lunch boxes, are so rare nowadays……..

Sometimes I wish we would never grow up, then we never have to be separated from one another.

But then we are always together, aren’t we?? Though not physically, but virtually. If not virtually, we at least stay in each others memories…..

Thank you guys for being in my life……

P.S. Sorry Daisy and Ruchika these are the only photos i had of yours. But i love you loads

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