It has been two days.
Lata accepted my friend request, but there was no reply. I did not message her again. She posts a lot of pictures, so I like them. Staring blankly at her pictures provokes no response. I want her to talk to me.
Umesh came yesterday. He wanted to drink beer. He invited me, but I declined. Past knows I cannot hold liquor, even the littlest of it. Anyways, I wanted to stay sober in case Lata replied to my message.
Umesh must have drunk a lot. He was online till 2 AM.
Lata and I sat on one of the benches in Canteen. I said, “So what are you going to do after graduation?”
“I have not think about it.”
“What is there to think? You will either study or marry someone.”
“I can think about these things. They demand a lot. Or I can just stay at home, learn new things or travel.”
“What new things? And travel?”
“Maybe I will learn cooking or knitting. And I want to go to a lot of places.”
“I thought you learnt these household chores growing up.”
“I did not. I used to study then and the rest of the time was spent with friends.”
“What happened to your friends? I think I am your only friend these days.”
“I still keep in touch with my old friends. They are studying in different Colleges. And you are not the only friend I have. Maybe I am the only friend you have.”
“You are right.”
“So what happened with your friends?”
“Same thing. They are studying in different colleges. And I am not great at keeping in touch. You said something about traveling.”
“I will go to Kasauli. It is so beautiful there.”
I remember the day I drank. It was the last day of school. My friends insisted and I declined. But they said about last day of our school and something about memories and friendship. I drank a little then.
It burned my tongue, throat and stomach. I was sick and threw a vomit.
I never drank after that fateful day. I never met my friends after that day either. Sure, I attended their marriages but I went there with no hopes of reunion. And it never happened.
I wonder if they even remember me now.
I feel old.
The Night is so thick, I am sure my shouts will not be able to penetrate it.
I do not like this. I do not like myself.
I fed a street dog yesterday. He seemed happy. He is not present today. I have saved a roti for him.
I look at the walls. They do not have the answers to my queries.
I pickup the phone and type another message to Lata, asking her how she is. And now I wait for her reply.