" Rahul "

Dear Rahul,

I am sorry I did not leave you a scrap, or write on your wall, the way others did. The truth is, I simply couldn’t. I could not ask you to “Rest In Peace” the way everyone else did, I could not ask you to take care, I could not ask God why He did that to you. Did you think I was unfair? Or cold? Did you wonder why I kept visiting your Orkut and Facebook profiles, why I kept looking at all your pictures?

You weren’t my closest friend. But you were a friend. We acknowledged each other with smiles and the occasional short conversation. And ever so often, you added a smile to my day with your comments on my FB posts. Even as I write this, it bugs me that I never took the time out to specially write on your wall. I am so sorry.

Do you remember the day all of us went out to eat at Galleria, Rahul? That was the first time we actually spoke. Amidst parathas and schezwan rolls. Today, I passed the same green benches that we all had sat on that afternoon. A group of friends was sitting there today too. Oblivious to the shocks that life can suddenly bomb on them. How unpredictable life can be.

I do not know what else I can say. Fragments of memories flow erratically in my mind. Of how I always thought that you bore an uncanny resemblance to a friend of mine. Of the time you “photo-graphed” all the notes I had made, as against “photo-copying” them, so you could refer to them before your interview. Of the last, the very last time you wrote on my wall, on the 19th of November. Ironically, your words were “Facebook se kabhi retirement nahin milegi”.

I struggle to find more memories. But we had very little of them. Maybe that is good in a way – for then, the main thing I remember is your smiling, happy-go-lucky face.

I miss you, Rahul.

Always,

Tanushree.