A Friend Lost
by Jatin Pathak
Please don’t bury her, or bury me along with her, I am her best friend. This thought was foremost in my mind during Jenisha’s cremation. What a sad end to such a beautiful life. I was with Jenisha during her last moments. It was early morning. She was enjoying the greenery alongside the road and trying to listen to the music of birds. The boys jogging there were definitely envious of me as she was holding me tight. Suddenly a car came, and in one bang everything was over. There she was lying next to me, lifeless like still air. Oh God!
Why her? She was so active and full of life that the world had seemed too small to contain her. Now she is lying in a six feet long wooden box. Why I am getting the feeling that she still has some life left in her and will rise up now and smile at me? Her smile was a text book definition of the ’million dollar smile’. We had spent hours late at night just looking into each other's eyes. She could read my soul as I could read hers. I can still feel the warmth of her breath on my body, the touch of her hairs raised shivers deep down my soul. We had been inseparable. Jenisha, do you remember the tears you shed one night? I captured them in my heart like pearls. Come, touch my heart, it is still warm because of that. And this rose you crafted on my skin, huh! You idiot, is this a place for a tattoo. Come back and remove it.
God, why are you so cruel? I always wanted to tell her how much I adored her, how much she meant to me. I also wanted to take a picture of her when she used to lie in the bathtub as though she was drunk. How funny she looked at that time. Yeah, I had access to her such personal moments too. I was a regular in her friends circle and every one of her male friends wanted to take my place. Why are these friends touching me now? I do not need their condolence. I, in fact, need nothing but a last glance at her face. Ah! Please do not touch me. I just cannot feel your touch. Her touch bought life in me and gave me a reason to exist in this world. She betrayed me and left this world, et tu Brutus.
Jenisha please, don’t leave me like this. Stand up, please. Stand up for the sake of all those journeys we enjoyed together. You remember our trip to Shimla last February. Wow! Those beautiful mountains and that chill in the air, your one hand was with me and with the other you were holding the cup and enjoying hot tea. Ha ha, you almost spilled that tea on me. Please come back, we will live those moments again. I know you are not comfortable in this wooden box. There is not even a pillow for you in there. Do you remember that scary night we spent together in that Manali bus stop? All your friends had left and we missed the bus. I gave you comfort in those moments. That night I was your pillow, remember? My world is completely thrashed now. Why can’t we have another chance to be together?
Jenisha, wake up. I know you are sleeping. You are a big time actor, wake up now. Love me, hate me or show me your anger. You know how much I fear your anger. I always thought some day in anger you will throw me down from the top floor. But I cherish those moments also, you looked beautiful in each and every emotion. Please, come back, come back to me.
Oh no! She is not listening to me. May be she really is dead. I beg you all, be kind to her. At least do not bury her, or bury me also with her. I am her best friend. After all, I am her favourite book.
Image Attribution: http://www.flickr.com/photos/jelles/1232671079/sizes/z/in/photostream/