Dear Dani,
I'm going to have to remind you of the days when I had to call you "Daniel sir" because I was the student and you are the teacher. The days when I lost my head inside a pile of books and instant coffee every evening in the cafeteria, with no one to speak to but the ghosts inside my hollow ribs. The days when you finished back-to-back evening classes and came around to feed your hungry self and bought my last cup of coffee for the day. You sat and patiently listened to my pointless ramblings about the world, my rookie opinions on postcolonial theory and what novels I was currently reading. Our conversations mostly revolved around your classes, my exams, my future plans and then books. A smattering of other things too, until one day in November, you gave me a small red copy of The Bible in which I find my peace every time life drags me down. I can't thank you enough for introducing me to a God who lives in paper that's as thin as a dream in winter.
It wasn't until the very end of my final semester when your heart stepped out of your formal shirt and said "I wish we had met earlier." Indeed, two semesters were too short a time to have known each other, but by then we knew enough about ourselves to securely say that we were friends. When things were bleak for me, you were my rock. My absolute rock.
A few days later, you said to me again "I really wish we had known each other earlier." I told you something then, and I'm going to tell you the same thing again- not because you need to hear it, but because I need to remind myself of my own half-a-rupee philosophy.
I don't think we should have met any earlier than we did. No. Life is well versed in drama and the timing it has is spot on. If you had met me any earlier, I wouldn't have been that zombie eyed piece of tragedy; if you had met me any later, you'd have been put off by the apathetic sharp tongued cynic I had turned into.
No, you met me at just the right time- when you knew me by face but not by name, and despite trying to beat the morning bell yourself, you slowed down and asked me on the staircase "Are you alright?"
It was the drama of the moment. So precise, so magnetic, that it kept drawing us to each other in corridors and coffee counters, and you asked over and over "Are you okay?", until one day I admitted that I was not, after I was finally convinced that someone cared.
I am recounting all of this because I just realized that there was one more important lesson hidden in the drama of "How Dani and Abhi became friends". Every day was special, every conversation was insightful, and every moment was fruitful because we fully lived in it- We made the best use of Now.
We never spoke of a yesterday and we never thought of a tomorrow. We were always where we were. That time of my life was indeed a gift because the Present was not the most neglected moment. No, we were aware of the onset of each moment and we welcomed it with rationality that had a touch of humanity. I realized moments ago that I ought to do it all the time. I ought to live in the present.
It is remarkably stupid how much I've been neglecting the present moment. More so, today.
Today, I've been busy putting myself in the cross-fire of the past and the future.
Okay, Dani. Time I make a little "life update". I could have called you and told you but because I'm such a Drama Queen, I'll make this a big deal and all.
Less than 48 hours ago, it was what I would have called a "Happy Anniversary!", had I still been with M*. I had a little bit of a meltdown in the middle of the night. After all, this is the first time in an obscenely long time when the "anniversary" isn't the anniversary. Had I been with M*, I would have probably had three such meltdowns and five screaming contests a month for every month we've been apart. But I did love him until it burnt its way into the manner of my existence. But with the distress so distant, waves of good memories and happy times were drowning my exam-season brain until I was sobbing senseless at a dirty wall in a dark hostel corridor.
PARADOX
In less than 48 hours from now, I'll be on what I'd shriek with excitement and say "Yay! Date!". By now, you've lost track of the number of guys I talk about. This is someone I haven't told you about yet, mostly because I don't "know" him very well myself. He's one of those guys who looks different from picture to picture. Talks very little, but when he does, he blows my mind. Has the kind of brain and wit and sense of humour that makes me want to keep the contents of his skull all for myself and pickle it to preserve it, just like a creepy person. He's like Spider-man- I think I know him, I don't know how; I think I like him, I don't know what about him that I like. He is such a bloody mystery, it drives me CRAY-ZAY. I think about him when I'm supposed to be studying for my exam (like right now) and I think about him even when I'm writing the exam (like today, yesterday, day before yesterday... you get the drift). It's exciting! I'm dizzy with adrenaline. I day-dream on floaty clouds and I re-read all his messages till the words paint themselves in a haphazard graffiti on my retina and eventually, my REM sleep.
I like it that I don't have to use stupid emoticons while talking to him and he still gets my jokes. Words are enough. Though, if I had to use emoticons, I'd use the one with the big hearts popping out of the eyes.
And he's so hot *HOT*, that it should be made illegal.
So Dani, you can imagine in what state my mind was in. On one hand, history had me in a high tide of nostalgia and on the other hand, mystery had me hopping on one foot with extreme impatience. And all the while, it was causing so much tension that I forgot how to be in the NOW.
Look at the drama of this moment, Dani. Life is so perfect at this thing. The difficult things are gone, the good things are probably coming. But I'm still myself right now, my heart firmly in my own possession. The drama of the moment, Dani, is not about what was or what will be. One is beautiful history and the other is a heated mystery. The Destiny of everything belongs in this moment- a drama- the act of turning the page of my ongoing autobiography.
