Finally it was convocation time! The convocation was in
short notice and I had to book my flight to India. I did my Masters from
University of Mysore, India. Mysore is close to my heart for the moments I
spent there. It was a perfect place and I had perfect friends. When my flight
was booked for convocation, I had gone all nostalgic. We were ten foreigners in
our batch. Except one friend, who wanted to pursue the PhD over there, all
other friends had already returned to their own country. I would not have
booked that flight for that one friend who was left over there with all those
memories we had together. No other friends were coming to the convocation
because of the distance, so I got the responsibility to be at that place. I
wanted to meet him so bad. I was getting nostalgic over the memories. All the
friends in my batch, we were so close to each other. We used to go out, eat
together, make fun of teachers, laugh and just bully each other. Among them,
Albed(name changed) was someone who used to help each of us. He was someone who
used to make coffee and cookies and bring to class. It was because of him our
class had turned into a bakery shop. He had madly fallen for a girl, who is my
best friend. But the relation that he used to share with me was also special.
We used to joke and laugh all the time. He was my jogging partner. And guess
what! He used to bring all those cookies, tea and cake that he used to make to
jogging that sometimes I used to get confused if I would lose or gain weight,
for jogging with him. He was like a buddy to me! I used to make dough for him
to make the cookies. I never forget that once he brought his oven to my house
to make cookies together. I will never forget how he spent almost three hours
teaching us (we were four in the closed group including him) just one page of
econometrics and we all had gone mad. We did our project work together. I will
never forget the library session of ours, where we went once and we spent most
of our time clicking photos. And once we made tea in pressure cooker and took
it to a friend's house in bike to drink it while watching football. His home
was like ours. We could go at any time we like, cook, drink and laugh. He was
very close to me, but I never intervened in his personal matter. When
everything was over, and we had to return to the respective country, our group
was almost together. We used to go everywhere together for shopping, eating and
drinking. Albed was a bit emotional and he had started to cry before a week of
my leave. It was during the Ramadan, where he had to take fast for whole one
month. It was an emotional moment for me when he broke his fast for a day for
me on the day of my leave. He wanted to share every moment and every second
with me. At the end, all my friends came and we cried and shared very special
moment together. All my friends came to train station to say me good bye and I still
remember their face. Me and my friend sat in Albed's bike and I still remember
how he drove wiping the tears with one hand. I still remember Albed's face. Those
beautiful and touchy moments that we spent together is still encarved in my
heart. When I came back I had regular contact with other friends but not with
Albed. He didn’t use to talk to me much. He had somewhat changed. I always
thought the loneliness changed him. When we all returned, he had no friend at
Mysore. That’s why, I wanted to meet him and relive those moments together. I
wanted to give him company and assure him that friends do meet.
However, things don’t go as planned. I had thought it would
be so much fun to meet my friend but during my 10 days of stay, I met him only four times and that also for two or three
hours only. He didn’t want to meet me. His ignorance made me question myself if
he is my friend or a stranger? I had sensed he had changed but he had changed
completely. Before his house used to be a complete mess and now it was clean. He
was such a freak out person, spontaneity was in his blood but there was nothing
like that now. He didn’t want to share anything with me. In fact I could sense
he was irritated when I went to his home. The worst moment for me was the time
when I went to his home and he closed the door on my face. One part of my heart
would say just to scold him and leave him. One part of my heart would say that
he is hiding so much of pain and he is not telling me. But he had become
impossible to penetrate. Every time I talked to him, I was mentally disturbed through
his coldness and strangeness. How could a person change like this and what on
earth made him change like this? It was not only me that he reacted like this.
It was with every friend. He doesn’t talk with us anymore. I cannot even be
angry with him for what he did to me. Because I think may be he is going
through depression, he needs me and I am not there. One time he told me his reaction was because I brought the bad memories to him. And guess what? He even didn’t
come to say me good bye.
Mysore was such a dull place to stay. The place once a
heaven for me had become a deserted place. And then I realized some places and
some friends are only good in memories!!
Great Post!
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