Our lives are going to begin again.
This island was a common meeting ground, where new rules applied, where new feelings could be felt, stilly futures imagined, but now we are going back into the real world, where we have nothing in common. He has his own life, his own circle of friends, an ex-girlfriend, and I have my own life. What would we mail each other about? If we had exchanged numbers, what would we even talk about?
‘Gaurav will return the Nintendo when you board.’
‘He’s quite good at it.’
‘I should go.’
He gets up. He wipes his hands with a tissue. ‘Bye,’ he says. He steps forward towards me and pulls me into a hug.
My body stiffens up.
I have never hugged a guy other than Vicky.
This is my first hug. With my first proper friend. Who’s also my lucky charm.
Slowly, my muscles relax and I feel his warmth against mine, the intention of truly saying goodbye and of telling me that the past seven days meant something. It’s not an empty hug. This hug means something, it says words that might be too odd, or too forward to say.
Then we let go.
‘I will see you around,’ I say sadly. And then I turn to Rabbani and say, ‘I will see you too.’
Daksh laughs. ‘It’s okay. You don’t like kids, it’s fine.’
‘Sorry.’
‘Bye, Aanchal.’
‘Daksh?’
‘I know it’s hard going back but trust me, things are going to be fine.’
‘Fingers crossed.’
I walk out of the lounge feeling strange. Like I had gained something in the course of seven days and now I was leaving it behind. On the flight back to Delhi, I start thinking of what I could mail him. But then I think,what’s the point?We lose friendships even when they are right in front of us.
When I land, I check my phone for his message. I check the time. He would have landed in Hyderabad an hour ago.
When I get back home, I check my phone again for a message from him.
The next day, I wait for his message.
Three days go by; I wait for his message.
A week later, I learn that Gaurav lied to me. I find the Nintendo hidden in the cupboard. He never returned it.
‘I couldn’t find him in the lounge,’ he admits.
‘You stole it.’
‘Please don’t tell Maa,’ he begs.
‘I won’t.’
‘Are you angry?’
‘No, not really. He can buy another one.’
