My dear friend

My Dear Friend,

Years seem to have passed without seeing you. Nothing seems to have changed except, the memories that we share together. My recent memories have overtaken the past ones. With you the times spent were precious. I take enjoyment in them till today.

How may years have passed? 3 years. Isn’t it a long time? Let us meet somewhere. Tell me, when are you free? Are you in the same place? Do you stay in the same house? Are you married? Do you have children? And finally, have you changed? I can think of more and more questions that I want to ask.

Remember, we had sandwiches at our canteen during our college festival. Someone even invited us to have food in the mess. It is as fresh as a coriander leaf. That tastes still sticks to my tongue. We were worried about bad stomach. You remind me of that. Do you still remember that we went to the college gymnasium and pumped us for a little while each of us showing our capabilities? Assignments! We had loads of them. No one remembers anything of those assignments. They must be surely at a stray cow’s stomach, ruminating now and then.

With his arrow like, sharp snout it isn’t enough to describe him. Additionally, he also has a chin protruding, elliptical, sponge-like, and slack; his cheeks sagging and as blunt as a butter knife. I still haven’t described his eyes; they two mesmerizing balls roving hither and thither searching for something precious he can possess or someone foolish whom he can play with. His crows-feet can any day take him to the Hollywood stage: he can be an extraordinary vamp. His entire face is wrinkled; more so, is his forehead. It wonders me when I see them like thin strips of knife cut bread-edges placed one top over the other or layers of yellow flat sandstones as in the Colorado plateau. After all, they represent wisdom.

More or else, he looks like all of us, otherwise. Are you troubled about who this man is? Do you feel I am disclosing every thing to you after you have read my piece? May be some of us will look like him. I recently saw them in my dreams. Again, he was our Professors - old and withered.

How shall we forget the games we used to play outside our premises, within the four walls of the hostel playground? They are all precious. Wonderful was our companionship. Do you meet any one of them? How are they doing? The more and more you live your life the more they seem to be precious. Memories aren’t they worth having. What is left with us? Isn’t it memories alone? We die with our memories still intact.

You are welcome any time to my house. I stay there only, near our college. Things have changed a lot. It would be great having conversations what each of us missed of each other’s experience with people whom we have met over the course of years. Share them with me. So will I.

I always will remain your faithful friend.

Regards
ABC