It was in
college as freshers that Deepa and Anjali first met.Anjali was being teased by some seniors and Deepa came to her rescue asking that Anjali be left alone. Then they found themselves sitting next to each other in a crowded classroom. Deepa, the bolder of the two, smiled and asked, “Hi, what’s your name?”. There was no turning back. From
long chats in the canteen, and even longer chats on the phone to sleepovers,
shopping expeditions, and discussing movies, books and clothes Deepa and Anjali
became inseparable.
The years flew
by. Deepa began working for a bank in another city, while Anjali secured
employment in a bank in the same city.
“I’m getting
married”, Deepa yelled into the phone, one day. “That’s great,” Anjali yelled back. “Congratulations!
When is the big day?” Deepa had confided in Anjali about her blossoming romance
with Ashok.
“It’s in two
months. Mark the date on your calendar.” “I will, I will,” said Anjali
excitedly.
Ashok was the son of an extremely wealthy businessman. The two had met at the party and cupid had struck. The
wedding was the typical Big Fat Indian wedding with lots of dancing and lots to
eat and drink. Deepa returned to her marital home in Kolkatta, while Anjali continued
living and working in Ranchi.
Then, a couple
of years later Anjali got married and moved to Mumbai. Her wedding wasn’t as
big, grand and fat as Deepa’s. It was an arranged match and she was happy. Deepa attended Anjali’s wedding alone in
Ranchi bringing expensive gifts. “Ashok is travelling on business and could not
make it, Deepa told Anjali. In the excitement of the wedding, Anjali did not
think much about Deepa’s answer. The girls continued to keep in touch through
letters and phone calls.
Anjali began to
notice subtle changes in Deepa’s conversations. “We loved the Swiss Alps she
told Anjali or she bragged about the brand-new Audi in their garage. Anjali
listened to her inane chatter as the seeds of a toxic relationship began to
take root. She grew resentful and jealous and began to detest the narcissistic
Deepa. They no longer discussed books,
movies or clothes. Their conversations were reduced to a monologue by Deepa
with Anjali muttering a yes or no now and again.
Anjali was
taking care of an unwell mother–in–law while dealing with a husband who had
recently become unemployed, frustrated and depressed. She longed for a shoulder
to cry on as the stress and strain of her life began to take a toll on her but
every time she spoke with Deepa, she was left feeling empty, exhausted and more
resentful.
After one such
fruitless conversation, Anjali decided to write a letter to Deepa. She poured
her heart out, telling Deepa of her struggles with finances and family and how
she missed the ‘old wisecracking Deepa’ to whom she had confided her deepest
darkest secrets. She placed the letter
on her dressing table to post it but the next day came and went and the next and
the next…the sealed letter lay on the dressing table until Anjali shoved it
into a drawer.” Would Deepa even open the envelope”, she wondered.
Little did she
know that Deepa was struggling with her demons. Underneath that façade of an
opulent life, lived a lonely girl whose husband travelled extensively on
business and who had to find ways and means to entertain herself. Deepa lacked
nothing in material wealth but was starved for affection and company.
“I wish Anjali
were here”, said Deepa to herself wistfully as she sat on a sofa staring into
space. Anjali had begun curtailing her calls and messages to Deepa, keeping communication
to the bare minimum. Deepa slowly realized
that she hadn’t been very empathetic towards Anjali’s plight. “I’ve been such a
fool,” she thought to herself. “I’m surrounded by the best life has to offer
but my heart aches for love and friendship. My so-called friends like me only
for my wealth.”
The emotionally
charged Deepa wrote a heartfelt letter to Anjali, asking for her forgiveness
but could not bring herself to post the letter. “Will Anjali respond?” will she
understand my struggles? Deepa shoved the letter into her cupboard.
The polite
telephone calls and messages continued. Anjali was now more at peace because
her husband had found employment and she was the mother of a bonny baby girl.
Deepa’s
seemingly perfect life was turning into a nightmare. Her husband’s business
began to suffer losses. They struggled to keep up appearances. Ashok and his father sold the business and looked at more
profitable avenues. Eventually, the finances began to stabilize. To Deepa who
had got accustomed to the wealth and splendour, this was a nightmare coming
true. She had not envisioned going back to work. On one hand, she missed the luxurious life and on the other,
she longed for a true friend. Inspired by Anjali, Deepa too began to work but more than work it was a friend
that she needed, it was Anjali, she needed. She picked up the letter and reread
it. Sadly, she wondered, “Will Anjali forgive me for my haughtiness and
condescending attitude?” “ I am now in her shoes”.
Anjali often
thought of Deepa, and wished that they could get back together. On a whim she dialled
Deepa and after some initial awarkedness blurted out that she had missed her
terribly. “I too have missed you, Anjali,” said Deepa in a choked voice. Then
the floodgates opened and the two friends laid bare their struggles,
insecurities and their judgements of each other. Between tears and laughter
they told each other about their unsent letters and decided to tear them up.
Anjali and Deepa
had rekindled the flame of their friendship. They did not go back to being the
inseparable duo of their adolescence, but it was the start of a more endearing and
supportive relationship.
Image credit : Pixabay
