You give me so much to Write about.7:21 PM
It was 29 August 2019. I was dressed up in the costume of a graduate. It was the day we got our degrees and had to bid goodbye to each and every living being we had close relations with. It was a day to be memorialized.
As I was re-reading what I had rehearsed for the convocation ceremony speech, I saw a beautiful lady, in a black saree with pick glossy lips mesmerizing the EnglishMen and Me. I had not seen her for some five years but reminisced who she was.
Five years ago, when my plan about Uambridge Cniversity seemed impossible, she was the one who lifted me up to give my best and said "You can do it." . When I had my first break, she was there to tell me that she'll be always be there for me till the end. When I cleared the Entrance Test, she was the one who had thrown a party for me. She was there with me for my first beer, first girlfriend, first everything.
It was a bit hard to believe to catch her there at my convocation ceremony with this small letter in her hand. I'd heard about Best Friends Forever, and she proved it to me. She made me believe that forever did exist.
She was beautiful. Beautiful in her own way. Not that Natalie-Portman-Beautiful. But that I-am-gorgeous Beautiful. Make-up was too mainstream for her. The flare on her face, her eyes, those black eyelids swimming in a sea of white fluid, the fluffy cheeks always wanting to be kissed, not to forget about the horizontal flesh above her chin; those lips :')
While I was busy watching the most amazing girl, my turn came. I was some ten meters away from her but still could hear her cheering "Abhishek, You did it. " .I climbed the stairs, got the mic in my hand and started.
Her presence was enough to lift my mood. I mean I was happy and she multiplied it by infinity. She listened to all I had in store and smiled in between. I could see the joy on her face. It was ecstatic. The way she was looking towards me with her eyes closed and listening to me as if I was reading her life story to her; Oh so lovely.
As my speech was about to bury itself in the grounds of Cambridge, she opened her eyes. Her eyes met mine and exchanged some words that only eyes could have knowledge of. No. Not Lovers. Yes. Best Friends. It was one of those gestures that only she and I could understand. I bid good bye to everyone present there, dressed in black and white, putting accent to the thought that Old is Gold. Yes. Old is really gold. My gold was sitting on the chair cheering for me. She didn't care what others thought and I never gave a damn. We were in our own world. The world we both craved for for the past five years. You know, you can get a thousand friends all across the globe yet you cannot swap places for your first sweetheart. The first ever girl to actually tell you that you have something on your face, genuinely.
I yelled " See you at Gate number 10 " and went away. That was it for Cambridge. That was it.
You could see her happiness as she was walking towards me. I was laughing. She hadn't changed one bit. We hadn't changed. We hugged. She wrapped her hands around my neck as if planning a murder. Her anger was acceptable. Five Years. It had been Five years. I whispered in her ear, "Baby, It's cold!" . She gave a tight hug. And I replicated it with an even tighter wrap. We let go of each other and laughed.
I told her that I missed her. I missed her a lot. I really did. She was a piece of my heart I never wanted to let go of. She was a gem.
My stomach was longing for food. We left for the Sitaaray's.
She was busy glancing at the aquarium. I broke duck. " Miss? Here,right in front of you is the epitome of handsomeness waiting for you to confess your love to him and all you care about is that brown seahorse? "
Sarcasm always makes you laugh and this was a bit too much. We started laughing like freaking retards and the English people around us stared at us as if we were planing a conspiracy against them. Epic.
After gifting our tongue with the spicy shahi paneer, I ordered two bottles of beer. Our hangout was incomplete without Alcohol. And Hugs. And Punches. And Kicks. And Sarcasm. And Laughter. And Love. And Friendship.
Dancing on the streets of London were two drunk Indians, who were truly, madly and deeply in love with English Wine. Bhangra in India was common but it was a live dance show out there. All the late night lovers, the others who had came to buy ice-cream for their lads, the mothers who were kissing their girls forehead, the police, the lads wearing a Manchester United Jersey with their football... everybody in awe of us. We were dancing, singing, doing all the amazing jobs that soberness would never approve of. But the English people did. As we realized that this not the right time for PDF(Public Display of Friendship), the people started applauding. You could sense the cheer and the joy out there.
I decided to do something special for one of the best ladies of my life and I went down on my knees. She said nothing. She must have been thinking about how I was going to say " Will you be mine? " and how she'll have to say a No and break my heart. It was a surprise she'd never thought of in her wildest of dreams. We'd been together for so many years yet nobody ever showed signs of love. We loved each other more than the relationship people do but still. We wanted to be together always, and not leave each other but still, dating each other was something we'd never thought of. That was the reason why her face went blank. She was nervous. The butterflies had taken her over and I could see her grief in her eyes. The grief to break the heart of her best-est friend.
Words slipped out of my mouth as if all they ever wanted to do was to convey was that I was in love with her. Maybe I was.
As the sound waves carrying my words traveled through the joyous atmosphere and was inching closer to her ears, the nervousness started increasing exponentially.
My words had reached her ears. She heard, "How long are we going to be friends, love?"
I heard something.