I met her at the chapel , the other day, her persona radiating the light of God. She used to talk about spirituality and religion and God – you know, philosophy too profound for an average teenager. I would be lost in the dilemma between being friends versus keeping a distance. For, being friends, would mean boycott and an isolated adolescence . And i was no saint, i liked celebrating the transience of life with the ” eat , drink , be merry”motto. Perhaps, the knowledge that she was good and she meant good was what kept me going .
I knew we could never be great friends , you know, the best friends type, for, she was not of this life, she was beyond it. While we were enthusiastic about weekend sleepovers and celebrations with friends, she would spend her weekends teaching under-privileged and orphaned children , visiting and serving slums with sisters from the convent or her circle of the “good samaritans” .
Though i hesitated admitting it to my friends for obvious reasons , i worshipped her – her calm and pleasant disposition , her polite and humble nature , her ability to effortlessly forgive and let go, her good will towards all – she was divine . I would seek her advise during moments of “imprisonment in emotional maze”.She was extraordinarily mature for her age and i knew she could not lead me astray. She always came up with workable, soothing solutions.In my mind, she was a magician. I often wondered about her estimation of me , for, i trusted her to never say “get lost” to anyone . Least of all , to me , her only friend in class.
On my visit to my hometown , i chalked out a “time with her” ,to see whether and how she was enjoying her new vocation. Despite her radiant persona radiating tranquility in her habit in the holy chapel , a deep regret enveloped me and i longed to have her back . Human is all i am.