Image Credit: Sukanta Dasgupta, https://www.behance.net/Sukanta_Dasgupta
It was mid-January and I was visiting Ranchi. One morning, I ran into an old friend in the market. I hadn’t seen her for several years, yet the memory was vivid. The girl standing before me was surely a sophisticated version of the chubby, playful girl I had known.
When our eyes met, her face brightened up. I felt happy, too. We strolled about, going down the memory lane. I was amazed at her strong memory. She hadn’t even forgotten my pet dog’s name! I asked all about her. She had a beautiful house, amidst nature, surrounded by hills! Was she a recluse, or just a nature lover? “Well, you ought to be feeling lonely.” She fell silent. After a long pause, she replied, irrelevantly, “Yes, sometimes …. You see everyone near you, but can do nothing.” I was confused, but I didn’t bother to understand.
Meanwhile, I got a call from Ma. I should be back home, right away!
As I bade my ‘ancient friend’ goodbye, she handed me an envelope. “Open it when you go back home.” I hesitated, but was compelled by her pleading eyes. I took it and hurried away.
Reaching home, I cut open the envelope and out slipped a thousand-rupee-note, wrapped in a piece of very white paper. Written overleaf in nice handwriting was: I owed this from college days, remember??
Yes, she did. There was some function and she badly needed the money. Her family was undergoing financial difficulties and money was not forthcoming. But why did she have to repay it now?
I had almost forgotten the incident when, after a week, I met her younger brother Ricky. “How is your sister?” I asked. Casting sad looks at me he replied “Didi died six months ago, in a car accident.” He continued, “Didn’t you know?”, but I wasn’t listening. A chill ran down my spine. Shortly, recovering from the shock, I said “But, I … I met her only a couple of weeks ago … in the market. She had said she was living in a house amidst hills. How could she possibly have died six months ago?”
The next day he took me to a tomb at the foot of a hillock. The inscription on the tombstone was hard to believe:
I felt a prick in my stomach. I wished I had never met Ricky!
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