Friends

All these times I’d walked past my college campus, but none had been as intense, as evocative, as it was today. I have used up my share, played my part. And now, when it is time to walk away, to leave, I wish I had a time machine to go back- not to relive my past, but only to verify, that I did not miss out on any of the merrymaking, every time I pushed the boat out with my friends.

Today, as I walk over to a familiar eating place, just across the road from my college, the vendor reads out the measly menu to me in his characteristically hurried, inarticulate drawl, acquired in the fullness of time. Even now, he counts up his gains fervently, to the very last penny.

Does he not observe my lonesomeness? Does he not sense my apprehension? Does he not see the lines of grief and worry etched across my forehead? Does he even know, that I might never show up at his joint again?

He seems to be in a world of his own, in a daze, far away, suspended up in the air, oblivious, unmindful… Or, perhaps, its only me ascribing my attributes and emotions to him- a psychological projection…

I have never worn my heart on my sleeve. But now, as I hunker down to gather the last vestiges of my missing friends, the clot congesting my core is undone, as my inner self breaks free, spurting out of my eyes like a hot-water spring, lamenting the darkness that surrounds me.

It demands,

“If you had to go back, why did you ever show up?”