‘The past’

“What does that mean?” I asked her.

“He’s no more. He died two years ago in an accident,” she replied. I felt terrible for making an assumption regarding him before knowing the truth and also for reminding her about him. I didn’t want to hurt her, but I had had no clue that her story could take another turn. I just wanted to change the subject, but I was not sure what I could say to her.

“It’s okay; I don’t feel much pain now. My heart got broken when that incident happened, but I have mended it somehow. I have learned to live my life while cherishing our memories together,” she said. I could feel the pain in her words even though she was trying to talk quite usually.

“What was his name?” I asked.

“Siddiq, but I used to call him Sid,” she said and went silent. Again two persons with almost similar names, can that be a coincidence? I thought. I wanted to ask her more about him but without hurting her. I was not sure how I could do that. She made that easy for me when she started telling me about him on her own.

“We were in the same school for twelve years. We were quite good friends for all those years, but we realized that we were feeling more than just an affection for each other when we completed our schooling and our paths got separated to pursue further study. I went to Dehradun, and he went to Chandigarh, but we remained in touch through calls and texts. He used to come to Dehradun to meet me. Those few hours of us together were the best moments for me the whole time, and then he left me, and those moments converted into memories, memories I couldn’t live anymore, at least not with him,” she said and stopped speaking. I also didn’t say anything for some time. I wanted her to have her time. Then she started talking again.

“I was almost going to complete the first year of my graduation when I heard that news from one of his friends. First, I thought he was merely kidding with me, but when he repeatedly said the same words, then I got to know he was serious, and then; I fainted. When I recovered, I wasn’t sure whether to accept that news or not. I didn’t cry for almost a week as I was not ready to acknowledge that Siddiq was no more. I sent him the texts, called him the whole week after his death in the hope of getting one response but of course, how could that be possible, and at last, I accepted the truth and cried till there was not a single drop of tear left in my eyes. I went into depression. My parents got to know what had happened and took me to the home to help me come out of my miserable state, and it took me almost a year to recover, though not completely,” she went silent again after telling all of this. I wanted to know how Siddiq died but taking her back to that memory could distress her even more; she already was on the edge of crying.

“Do you think you can again love someone else in the future like the way you loved Siddiq?” I tried to distract her mind.

“I don’t think the way of loving two different people always remains the same. I might not be able to love someone like the way I loved Siddiq, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be able to love at all. There might be a different approach, a different way to devote me to a new love; I’m ready to take that on,” she responded quite sensibly. She was intellectual, always gave answers before thinking. I felt that I began liking her.

“I think you never fell in love with anyone as you told me the first day you never even had any female friend, right?” she asked.

“Yes, that is true, I never had,” I replied.

“Do you think you can fall in love with someone?” she asked.

“Of course, I can. I think I can easily fall in love if I ever get a chance. I’m dying to experience such feelings. I think it would be amazing to love someone and be loved by the same person in return,” I answered back.

“Do you think you can fall in love with me, ever?” she inquired. I couldn’t speak anything for some time; that was an unanticipated question. I was not sure what I could answer her, I mean, I liked her, but it was too soon to say anything regarding the feelings of love. Although she had been occupying most of my thoughts those days yet, I was not sure that could lead me to fall in love with her someday, and on the other hand, it might be immodest to say her no. I didn't want to be harsh with her.

“Yes, I can,” I still answered but in some diffidence.

“Alright,” she replied and went silent. We didn’t speak for some time, and then she asked, “Would you come to meet me someday?”

“I sure would,” I replied without hesitation.

“Okay, great. By the way, where do you live?” she asked. The name of my city was going to upset her again.

“Chandigarh,” I answered and waited for her reaction. She didn’t say anything for a while.

“I guess it is a great city, right?” she asked.

“Yes, it is, I must say,” I replied.

“For how long you have been residing there?” she asked.

“I am born and brought here, and my parents are living here even before I was born,” I answered.

“What is the unique thing about your city, name one?” she asked. I thanked God that she didn’t get upset by the name of my city, and even if she did, she concealed it properly.

“It is beautiful; it has clean roads and a lot of greenery. Sorry, I have named three things but believe me, there are many more,” I felt proud while telling her about my city.

“I would like to visit there someday,” she replied.

“I would be more than happy to show you around,” I answered. We kept talking like that for quite some time. It was again almost morning when we ended our conversation for that night.

“Can I see you, Sid? Her text came.

“Yes, sure,” I replied and sent her one of my photos. I waited quite long for her response or some remark on my picture, but it didn’t come.

“Are you sure your name is Siddharth but not Siddiq?” it was her last text which came that night.