I don’t know when it exactly happened .we are still friends.i still wish her on her birthday.we still talk.but it seems so empty, perfunctory, talking about "ram sethu issue,sharukh's next movie,and sachin's future....
we never had to resort to such clichéd GD topics and “current affairs” to escape the drudgery of silence. i can feel pauses making prolonged visits in our conversation as if each one of us is trying to turn away but courtesy keeps our mouth talking.we kill time by spilling words and sentences that have no reflection of ours’-talking of something someone told you once but you forgot because it was useless, something that you read in the paper this morning, some damn irrelevant thing.
any thing that’s not personal .
But it was different before. I could tell her my deepest agonies, darkest dreams., each time I would empty my heart only to find it full the moment she left me.she would listen to me calmly, unruffled. then she would tell me little ,trivial things of no consequence to anybody except her .i felt so strong, so peaceful during those evenings on the terrace.
something happened somewhere, I am not sure what it was, nothing scandalous, nothing acrimonious was ever said by any of us, we never fought, but somewhere there was discontentment, a few taciturn replies on phone, a slight communication gap..But it was back on tracks in a few days. I thought we had weathered a trivial misunderstanding out and all would be well. that turned out to be a gross misconception..the abyss kept widening till we felt little trace of our previous bonding. I am yet to fully understand what happened, I so much enjoyed that feeling of having someone to talk to, and being a person implicitly trusted.
I just guess we outgrew each other.I wish we came back but I know we needn’t,
we won’t.
