For The Last Time

Love is an act of endless forgiveness, a tender look which becomes a habit.
- Peter Ustinov

I said another goodbye today. It made a lot of difference. Nothing felt like sad when my friend was leaving. I was wished an awesome life and I replied with "to you too" and it was all over. We might meet someday in the years to come. We might never meet in the whole of lifetime. I will for sure make new friends, have new experiences, but this friend will never come back. So many of my friends will be leaving one by one and I would never be able to tell them how much I love them. I come from a society where love is seldom expressed. No matter what quantity it is of, it is expected to stay invisible.

This post should have arrived some days before but there was barely any reason I thought I must write. It was a like my ability to even write a single sentence on my own was taken away from me. Today, I write because I am in pain. I write for all those lovely times I spent with my parents and friends. I write for those days which are never going to come back. I write with a hope that I will feel better once again. That I can shed some tears. I am selfish - I write for my solace. Every person finds his pain as the largest unless he or she is in love. I do not know what's going on inside me. I will go blank if I don't write.

I am supposed to be happy for my friends who are going to start with Infosys. I am supposed to be proud of those who are already in Accenture. But I don't understand how I can feel good about all of it when this form of happiness and pride is self-defeating for me - it takes my friends away from me; a few of them away from me forever. I am a slave of my emotions - even if this is illogical to the core. I want them back. I want to have them here with me now - 12:34 am in the morning I dream of having my best friends with me by my side. I know it's a dream denied fulfilment. My throat aches for my heart.

I was so glad when I was selected by Infosys. I was so happy I had some of my friends with me too. We used to talk about it, we used to feel so great about being selected and what all it meant. And now the day has come when the same happiness causes pain and it is very, very painful. It's like praying for rain but not going to the Mosque because it is raining. I know this had to come. I know it was going to be painful. I hope I am not expected to be happy and smiling when I simply cannot. I want to apologise to Allah for the grief I am causing to myself.

I stare at the monitor with my neck half tilted and my head hardly moving. Things seem empty and blank but there is so much around and within I cannot explain. I keep looking at my phone every few minutes hoping that I would be sent some message by a friend or somebody would call - I don't know what I am expecting. I am ready to be called a fool. I won't mind being called a fool that I try to be so emotional with any of my friends, tell them how I feel or how much I would miss them. I am a fool if they respond to me just to make me happy and they don't feel anything in return. I won't mind that. I am already in pain.

I wanted to thank each of them; apologise to each of them. But no part of the culture I am a part of supports such conversations with friends. Perhaps the conversations I want to have demand no words - I just want to sit and stare at them seeing them laughing and enjoying. I suppose I will surely do that though I may not have them in front of my eyes. I might yearn to see some of them again; I might cry; I might feel like a fool again; I might move on and never get time to cry again. My eyes get filled the moment I imagine myself crying. Tears roll the moment I even think of any of my friends crying. I don't have the capacity to see that now.

I can go on and on with today's post. I can write till the sun shines again. But I need some time to cry, some time for myself, some time to settle things within me. I have to meet some friends tomorrow and say them goodbyes. I don't want even a drop of tear to appear in my eyes when I see them leave. I will go into pieces if I see water in any of their eyes tomorrow; I don't know if my crying makes any difference to anybody apart from me; I don't want to make a fool of myself. So much I wish I convert all my heart into words. I am sorry.