When I was in second grade, we had a lesson in which a
girl’s pen-friend from Russia visits her school and they talk about different
cultures and have a good time. I found
it extremely amazing how two people who had never seen each other or been in
the same environment could actually become friends, of course I was a kid and I
didn’t know better. But it amazed me none the less. And I decided that day that
I would have a pen friend. Time flew by faster than I remember and suddenly we
were in the world of computers, of electronic mails and world wide web, pretty
much grown up and childhood dreams long forgotten. I was obviously warned by parents about not
only not talking to strangers in person but to keep away from strangers online
too. Over time I found and lost many
friends. And some remained special, some I am still in touch with, some I lost
touch with, some broke my heart. But one particular day while surfing the vast
ocean of the net I discovered a dream realised , my childhood dream of wanting
a pen-friend. And I narrate (with names changed for obvious reasons).
*italics are Zara's though process.
Zara was sprawled on
her sofa, with the laptop in front of her, headphones plugged in, rocking her
head to the beat of some new song that was obsessing her, going around a forum
reading fanfics to curb her reading desire. She herself had written a few
modest ones, nothing compared to the talent on the forum, and there was so much talent in there that she
felt trapped, unable to allow her reading-obsessed heart to escape. That was when she noticed a new kid on the
forum, new stories, new authors - she loved it – it was exciting to be reading
a different persons work, new writing styles, new perspectives, new
observations to make. She was naturally judgemental, although she hardly allowed
it to rule her actions, she liked making observations and checking back on
them. Self – proclaimed psychologist. So
she followed what was routine to her - check out the new kids personal info
–gauge whether the info seems legit,
make ran-dumb judgements with the info given, check out the written
material, make judgements about the authors mindset based on the write-up,
check back with personal info to see if it fits, considering it does - feel
like a boss, if not – still feel like a boss and wonder whether the write-up is
will-full fantasy, or whether the kid is bluffing about personal info.
Any how she seemed to like the new kid’s work and there
weren’t too many comments on her write-up. She decided to comment and please,
it’s like trying to be friendly to the new kid at school. You
know make her feel at ease, Go easy on her work. Turned out the kid had a
blog with a lot of other exceptionally written articles. So Zara decided to
comment on her blog to give her a surprise – remember be friendly to the new chick at school. Normal human tendency,
right? But technology had other plans in store, somehow her computer didn’t
allow her to comment on the blog – she frowned and tried a couple of times. Nope still not working. So she sent a
private message asking if there was some particular procedure to comment on her
blog, since it wasn’t showing her comment.
And thus began a correspondence, beginning with where
exactly do you live (because obviously
knowing about a person’s surroundings gives you an insight to the person’s most
probable mentality) and going on to more personal discussions about family,
occupations, hobbies, likes, dislikes, governments, conspiracies, religions, ‘deforestation’, boys, proceeding ever so cautiously toward
friendship - Until very subtle declarations of friendship were made in the most
acute of words. If they were together in
flesh and blood, the words would have been whispers in the wind- barely heard.
A gradual change of writing style took place in their letters (as termed by her
brother due to the time she took in writing those replies) , from being cordial
to jestfull leg-pulling, to debating, to
daily happenings- discussions of life. They even started their correspondences
with discussions about the weather in their respective parts of the world. –
something that seemed so sweet to her, it was like wishing the other was with you in person. A friendship was forged in two hearts, a
sisterhood that was shadowed by blind faith which arises with the choice to
trust another person without knowing them. Even when they couldn't keep in
touch for a while when they caught up later it was like they had never lost
contact - effortless to pick-up where they had left off.
Zara, the dramatic one & Diana, the good girl.
Zara, the hijabi & Diana, the modern.
Zara, the elder mature one and Diana, the kid sis.
So different and yet so same.
As the friendship grew stronger, Diana suggested they meet
up. Of course given their ages and places, now was not a good time, and now was
going to last for quite a while. So they
wove an image into the future when they would meet.
Zara was sitting in the uptown café/restaurant. As usual she was earlier than the given time.
Out of habbit more than boredom, she was drinking water and waiting for a dear
friend. Looking around she spotted a
young couple – they are not going to make
it. He is clearly a player, he will dump her before she knows it. Maybe if she
hits the ladies room , I could go in and warn her – but I’d look psycho.
A young girl and an elder woman , probably mother and
daughter by the looks if it – obvious
physical similarities, but the girl is hiding something from her mother,
probably lying this very minute, her body is shifting too much and she seems to
be very distracted by someone on her phone. Lying about where & with whom
questions, maybe. Poor mother seems distressed.
A bunch of scantily dressed loud girls – expensive dressing, too much make-up which
means they have the time to do that much make up hence jobless, expensive
accessories, expensive attitude meaning rich spoilt brats, daddy’s darlings.
Backstabbing friends, not one of them looks genuinely interested in what the
other is saying. Yet they are cooing Looking at photos on the phone, probably
her boyfriend and her, she swells with show-off. Far too much drama in the
club.
Another couple – she’s
pregnant and terribly upset, he’s apologising , worried about what went wrong.
Maybe he hurt her by some dumb thing he said and she’s upset about it , or
maybe the hormones are ruling the institution – maybe he does not want the kid,
her hand shifts much too protectively and a little too frequently to her
swelled up belly. Fear of losing the child. He seems genuinely concerned – he
will handle it well, whatever it is. The way he looks at her, shes a lucky
girl.
Zara’s eyes constantly shift to the door. There’s a saying
in Arabic that comes to her mind.
Al intezar ashadd al maut – the wait is even more intense
than death itself.
But she would rather be the one waiting than to have someone
else waiting for her, a trait she inherited from her dad – to never let others
wait for you.
A girl of about 20 comes in. Her eyes scan the room resting
on the abaya clad Zara for just a fraction of a second before wandering around
looking for a vacant seat. She walks in coolly and takes a seat at the table
opposite Zara's pretending to be a regular. Dressed in a cute pair of shorts
and a vintage t-shirt that showed her
well toned back she looked younger than her age and affordably chic. Zara
smiled, Not that anyone could notice through her face cover - I'd wear
Something revealing for fun and probably bring you Something quite revealing to
wear under your abaya, Diana had joked once.
Has to be her, I am
quite sure It's her. Yup she has the northern beauty, looks like a college
chic. She looks so much younger in person. But why take another table - She's
surely not expecting this place to fill up with abaya draped girls. Maybe she
wants me to go ask her. I'll wait and see what she does.
Although Zara meet her gaze more that once, She didn't show
any acknowledgement at all. Times up -
she's already in town and I fly in the morning and still I'm early and she
wants to play around. Of course she
would not waste an opportunity like this. I'll leave and see what she does.
Zara walked briskly past the table with the girl she thought
was Diana, wondering what the girl's Reaction would be.
She walked out of the hotel and decided she would wait in
the car for a while and see If the girl followed her out. Maybe She wasn't Diana at all. How come she didn't even look all That
surprised when I asked for the bill. Either Diana is a very talented actress or
she isn't Diana.
That was When Zara Saw her - A girl of about 20 Getting off
the back of a bike, Running a quick hand through her Cascading hair, dressed in
a denim Capri with a sleeveless hoodie - A very casually sporty Chic. She wore
a necklace which made Zara smile. Of
course smart move Diana - that's one sure fire way for me to recognise you. I
should have guessed you would wear it. She glanced at her watch and was
about to move towards the entrance, When the boy she had arrived with took her
hand and turned her around, his face frowning and speaking rapidly while she
seemed to be answering him in quite a rush. Hm
good gene pool In the family - clearly her brother. Does he have a problem with
his sister meeting someone she doesn't know by face. Looks protective - Very
protective.
Zara got out of her car laughing at herself for the wrong
girl she assumed was Diana, and walked across the parking lot, towards her and
said excuse me. Diana? She turned around and Zara saw her own excitement
mirrored in Diana's eyes as she almost squeaked Zara??
The girls squealed like fan girls as they hugged and Diana's
brother looked relieved. he was probably expecting that she was going
to meet some guy& get into trouble, because there really is no reason to be
so worried about a consenting adult. "Don't worry sir, I'll bring your sister
home safely " Zara said jestfully to the over concerned bro as Diana
rolled her well defined eyes "Please I'm not exactly a child " He smiled a smile that showed he was her
brother as he ruffled his little sister's hair earning a playful frown and a
soft punch in the arm and said "Of course not you are just a bundle of
wild trouble - infact ma'am I must warn you " They laughed and he left.
Shall we? Asked Zara and Diana nodded.
They walked back in to find the waiter surprised at the return of the girl who
had been sitting at a table for about twenty minutes replenishing the Hotel's
water supply and then unexpectedly leaving And now returning.
They ordered little food and more of deserts - both deciding
that inspite of being figure conscious this was a moment to celebrate. Zara was
an expert at eating under the face veil, while Diana was amused beyond speech
to know that someone could eat comfortably under layers of clothing.
After they talked about everything under the sun and finally
finished their lunch, Zara suggested they go shopping cuz chics got to shop
together - By default. They were the most unlikely two out there - one
completely conservative clad in black the other a little too modern. After 'some' absolutely unnecessary shopping
they took a cab back to Zara's place. Diana informed her brother she would be
staying over at Zara's for the weekend, since taking permission would not have
been useful they had decided to let him know last minute. Of course it took a
lot of convincing on Zara's part and hell loads of pleading on Diana's.
They stayed up long after the stars were out planning
lunches and dinners and spas and malls and cafes and bookstores and parlours and
boutiques and all the fun they could have in a span of two days. Bangalore was
quite a large place and they had to spend more time together. They would not
get a good chance to do this again - not in the near future. Soon it would be back to
I'm-sorry-for-the-late-reply-to-your-mails and trying to fix a Skype date and
sharing virtual cups of tea. While Diana
had just gotten to Bangalore a week ago to join in for her masters and would be
staying with her bro in his apartment with her sis-in-law, Zara had flown down
the very morning from Mumbai where she actually lived with her hubby-boy and
in-laws for just the weekend. So instead of staying at Diana's place they were
staying at Zara's place. They ordered in pizza for dinner and watched chic
flicks, cried together and talked 'some' more. The excitement was more than
obvious by the fact that neither could actually feel fatigue or slumber. So
they talked until the moon tired away and waited out the sunrise from Zara's
balcony. Pasts were revealed, secrets were brought out from their sealed
hearts, futures were travelled, wine was tried (first time for Diana), & all in the matter of a few hours they
had turned from friends to soul sisters- almost family. The element of mystery
had finally been solved - the curtain raised,
after the many years of knowing a person virtually to meet them in
reality, to receive and give the hugs, to actually lol, to witness the imagined
smiles and laughter - it was simply exciting.
After a weekend well spent mostly going around in Zara's
favourite rental - the Chevy impala 67, wheels hot, music loud, windows rolled
down, singing along the radio, stopping only to check out different places and coming home long after the moon was up,
Zara returned to Mumbai to her hubby-boy with recent discovery of her pregnancy
and Diana joined college with hopes higher than the clouds and better knowledge
of the city's hotspots. As Diana was unpacking the 'small' bag she had packed
for the stay over she found a small package well-wrapped alongside an origami
lily - she smiled as she pulled the flower apart to find a message from the
only non-fictional person she knew who did that. And loved to surprise others.
There's more than one kind of family you know and I think we
just found it. May you find blessings and joy and hope and guidance and
friendship and love in this journey of yours.
May angels watch over you.
Hasta manyana.
Zara.
