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“Friendship is like
blue china, costly and rare.
Once broken, can be
mended, but the crack is always there.”
Sunita remembered the
lines that had been written by her best friend, Shikha, in her autograph book.
Those were the days when students went around getting autographs from their
teachers and friends, and waited with anticipation to see what they would write.
Sunita’s autograph
book was covered with colourful messages, often running to four pages at a
time. She had always been a popular girl and she had made many good friends, both
in class and outside.
However, her best
friend had always been Shikha, right from kindergarten onwards. Shikha, the petite
girl who had crept into class, petrified of facing a crowd of children who
stared at her.
“Come in, Shikha,” the
teacher had called out, welcoming her in. “Class, this is your new classmate,
Shikha. She has come from Kolkata. Her father has been transferred to
Bangalore.”
There was a place
vacant next to Sunita and she lifted her hand, gesturing to the new girl. “You
can sit here,” she remarked, smiling at her kindly.
The teacher smiled at
her. “That is very kind of you, Sunita.” She led the other girl towards her.
That was the
beginning of their friendship. All through school and later college, they were
inseparable. They had their own secrets, their inner jokes, their soft asides.
It was as if they had one soul in different bodies. On many occasions, envious
friends had tried to drive a stake between them, but none had succeeded. Maybe
it was the perfect trust that they shared that made them oblivious to all such
attempts.
They had their crushes,
their little love failures, and they were each other’s mother confessors, consoling
each other each time their love was not returned.
There was an exhibition
in Commercial Street where beautiful artefacts nestled along with rare gems and
jewellery.
“Shall we go for it?”
Shikha asked Sunita.
“Nah, it will be too
expensive! I have no money to spend this month. Not after I bought that new
dress last week!” answered Sunita.
“Let’s window shop,
shall we? Even that will be fun,” suggested Shikha, who had an eye for rare
things.
Sunita gave in with
reluctance. She preferred day-to-day objects to rare curios. She did not know why
people were so obsessed with the latter. She herself had no interest or taste
in such objects. Unwilling, she let Shikha drag her to the exhibition.
The boutique was
exquisite and so was its clientele. The women were all clad in expensive
branded clothes, perfectly made up. The men were dapper, charming and very easy
to look at. While Shikha browsed around, touching each curio with reverence, a
bored Sunita floated about, openly admiring the human visions within.
Shikha
nudged Sunita who was engrossed in watching a young man who was not only devastatingly
good looking but had also cast a glance at her a couple of times. Sunita
reluctantly tore her gaze away.
“Are you done? Why don’t you have another look around?” she asked.
Shikha held out a beautiful box made of blue
china. “See what I got for?” she asked excitedly, handing it to Sunita. “Do you
like it?”
“It’s pretty,” said
Sunita in a distracted fashion, her eyes going back to the handsome man. Shikha
followed her gaze, and her eyes widened.
“Wow, who’s that?”
she asked softly.
Sunita looked at her
friend, whose face had turned a delicate pink. “Come on, let’s go!” she tugged
at Shikha’s hand. Shikha nodded, but this time, she was the one who was
distracted.
“Isn’t he gorgeous?”
she said, unwilling to take her eyes off him.
Sunita felt an
unfamiliar sensation deep within her heart. She had no idea what it was. Was it
envy? Was it possessiveness? Her emotions were churning. Even as she watched, Shikha
took a step forward, removing her hand gently from Sunita’s grasp. She glided
towards the handsome young man, her face still a blushing pink.
“Shikha, stop;
Shikha, where are you going?” Sunita's voice was unusually loud, and others turned to
look at her.
The young man who had
glanced at Sunita earlier also turned. His eyes fell on Shikha and stayed
rivetted on her. Sunita watched the tableau as it played out before her. She
knew that the young man would waste no more glances on her. The admiration in
his eyes as he watched Shika said it all.
Her fingers tightened
around the beautiful china box that Shikha had bought for her. For the first
time ever, Sunita felt betrayed, her eyes filling with unshed tears that blinded
her for the moment. Her friend, who had been only hers for so many years,
seemed to be moving on, moving away from her. Her friend, whom she had always
protected, had not even turned to look at her, to include her in the moment.
As she watched them
together, her heart weeping, she felt the china box break within her grasp.
