Last Meet

It is your 3rd call. The other two marked missed in my mobile. I pick it up while rehearsing an apology which won't sound so guilty and at the same time not indifferent too. I reply to all the standard questions with the standard answers. You too seem eager to get over the conversation etiquettes quickly. You ask me if I have seen --- movie. I am glad I have already seen it. And I feel more glad that I have to meet a friend that evening, and so I cann't join you for dinner too. Your voice sounds distraught and silence grips over our conversation. For a while, I think you have hang up on me. The guilt trip daunts upon me, and I want to make it up for you. I ask if we could meet for lunch the next day. The smile returns back in your voice and you readily agree.

I spend much of next morning thinking what you are going to tell me over lunch and what am I going to say. Restless so I am, I reach 10 minutes before and worse you come 6 minutes late. You give a sorry look without bothering for my reaction and I try to ignore it thinking it's you who really need and concerned about this meet . I ask you what do you want to eat and you reply 'whatever' as if that's the last thing you have come here for. 3 minutes have past since we ordered and not spoken yet. I am well rehearsed for my part and waiting eagerly for you to tell me the inevitable. You look around stealing a glance of mine as if to judge my mood. I know you are just about to confide in me. Soon you will be done with your talks, and wipe your tears as if some louse has fallen in your eyes. And by that time, I'll be all burdened with all your secrets, which I'll be never able to get rid of. And then I'll be part of your close circle where you have instilled your faith, always feeling obliged to think for your well being. Worse, next time you will expect me to tell you my story of life with all my longings, embarassing moments and what all troubling my heart (even if none at that moment), and I'll be expected to believe in your concerns for them.

The waiter interrupts my thoughts, and I find you staring at me as if ready to start as soon as I meet your eyes. What the heck. It has to be said and done once for all. I gather a smiling look and ask what's troubling you. You smile back with interest and it widens and widens. And then you tell me the inevitable. You're going for higher studies to fulfill your dreams, the much awaited ones, so much so that nothing else matters for you before 'em. And you simply want to meet and say 'goodbye' to all your friends before leaving, and I am one of them. You look so happy. I feel so helpless. Next 20 minutes you are so excited and engrossed giving me details of the future you are going to live in, and I am busy trying to read the sign 'you will miss me' in your eyes. I wonder if I am the one who is going to give you the missed calls from now onward.