Now I look back and smile at the good old days. :)
He was made to sit right next to me. Our class teacher had finally resorted to seating the opposite sexes together, hoping to bring about some discipline in the class. And I was separated from my wonderful benchmate, my best friend. So, I wasn't exactly happy about the new arrangement. But I soon became friends with him. Or did I?
The male chauvinist that he was, he never really liked being in a female's company. Girls, to him, were distant objects - just to look at and to gossip about with friends. But didn't I feel he was different with me? He wasn't bad with me. May be, he felt a little different about me. I would never know what it was!
Then, we grew up and so did the feelings in my heart. We were in the same class. I still liked him and yearned for his company. Sometimes, I envied those guys around him- who could enjoy cracking jokes with him, playing volleyball with him. Was that a crush? I don't know. But this guy was special to me. He somehow clicked with me. Because of his liveliness, his sense of humor. Because of the beautiful person i could see in him. It's the same feeling that I got when I befriended most of my closest friends, ones who I never got a crush on. Had I been close friends with him too, I might not have assumed this feeling to be "love".
Days went by. I met him a couple of times in college too. He was too busy and probably too ambitious to get distracted. We kept in touch, off and on. I remember I would go so far to the cyber cafes to just check whether he had mailed. A single offliner, a forwarded mail would make my day. I could not find any other person like him in college too. I was lost in his enigma!
But he was unsure of what he felt or wanted. He hurt me again and again by passing puns, humiliating comments. And then healed those wounds by just initiating a conversation some day. He cared for me. I saw that in his eyes, in his photograph that i long kept with me. He did care for me. But, may be, a little less than how much he cared for himself.
His attitude frustrated me enough to ask him. Yes, not tell him what I felt, but ask him if he liked me. He finally declined, unconvincingly. And that was the end of a friendship that was probably not meant to be. We still kept in touch. At least I kept a track of his life-directly or indirectly. But it all ended with a major heartache. When he suddenly broke all contacts. Completely.
He did infuriate me. He had shattered my self-respect. I hated him for a while. Then disliked him. And then, gradually. realized my that heart cannot sustain any negative feelings for him. I recognized what he had done for me. He only saved himself from the complex person that I am. And he saved me from the sad and dissatisfied life I might have had with him.
It's been years and he hasn't looked back. May be he never will. But I cannot hold myself from inquiring about his well-being. I wonder how different would the things be, had I been "just friends" with him.
If possible, I would want to tell him, that he still means a lot to me. As much as my closest friends do. For he, unknowingly, brought out the poet, the writer, the thinker and the philosopher in me. For his thoughts calmed my mind for so many years. For he understood our differences and left me alone to find the person who's truly my soul mate.
If possible, I would want him to come to my wedding with his beautiful smile. If possible, I would want him to bless my life with his friendship, some day.
So here's my answer to the riddle of love and friendship:
Love persists for a reason- being together. Friendship persists for no reason; it is unconditional.
