He asked me, “I am going out for Dev’s party. You wanna join me?”
I thought over it for a while, whisking the egg into the mix of flour, butter, sugar, chocolate, baking soda while speaking on the phone pressed between my ear and shoulder. I took a small dip on a finger out of the bowl cuddled between my lap and put it into my mouth and winced when it didn’t feel perfect. Exhaustively I pounded it on the kitchen pavement.
“Nah! You go and enjoy.” I said to him.
“Okay.” The line was interrupted then.
I didn’t feel like doing any more experiment with the dough. I silently poured it into the microwave container and put it in at required temperature and time setting.
I was alone with all my thoughts now. They were like roaming around me, playing ring-a-ring-o’-roses with my long desires. I could practically see them over my head, their tiny feet sometimes kicking on my head while they moved in a circled. Their laughter felt cruel to me. I tightly put my arms around my ear and leaned over the chair. I desperately needed someone then. A someone like friend.
A friend is one I have always wanted for. It’s like that distant moon. I usually find it all around me but I can never reach to it unless I am dreaming. A shoulder to slap and say “hiya” and also on the same shoulder to rest your head and cry when something goes wrong. An ear to whisper the rumor and at the same place to leave your deep secret with a relaxation. Someone to whom you can say anything without having to soak, strain and fry your thoughts till they are drained in fear of some horrible and unmanageable consequences. Unmanageable isn’t something that you will ever stumble over in friendship. A single sorry is enough after relentless hours and hours of fighting is manageable. Writing your assignment when you are busy in continuous sneezing in your bed is manageable. Proxy attendance and bunking important classes are manageable. Licking chocolate from the wrapper till it tastes like tin is also fine. Wearing torn jeans and rapped T’s is cool. Talking before brush and hugging before bath is pleasure. Everything is so smooth and fine that even life gets jealous with that comfort.
He is good and smart. Modern and trendy. Nice and well-behaved. Whenever I look at him I can imagine all those things with me. I can bet anything in the world to befriend him. Anything, just name it. It’s no teenage craze or despair of lonely thirties because I am still in my fresh twenties. I want him as my friend. And among all the reason of my despair the prominent one is that he is my life-partner.
I have been sleeping with him from last six months. I cook for him. I share my breakfast and dinner with him. I ask him what to wear or not. I tell him whenever I need to visit my parents and he also drops me there with utmost care and respect. My parents also love him a lot. After all he is the nicest of all. I can say it with much pride and confidence. I get jealous hearing about any girls from him and he also feels the same for which we barely talk about our college days. I have everything on my side, as a wife should have. We share our body, mind and the sacred bond integrally. But when it comes to the fun, the spunk, the energy, the careless moments, the wide freedom, the forbidden jokes, the unbelievable rumors, the unavoidable chatting, the gut-drenching adventures, the thundering shrieks and endless fighting- I miss them all. I need a friend with whom I will sit under tree, baking my aged wrinkles under sun, watching our grandchildren playing together and gossiping our partner’s irritating midnight snores and farts. I need this kind of a friend.
I need a life-long friend.
This is blog prompt for Author Preeti Shenoy's next book... TOUCH (The One YoU Cannot Have)Thursdays