The Day My World Changed Forever

I first remember Dholi from 4th grade. She was the prettiest girl I had ever seen. Sweet. Genuine. Very smart too.

Soon, we became best friends. Even our teachers used to tease us about our friendship. We were always together in school, and after school in our study group.

Every morning, I would get ready and leave for school. Her house was on the way. So, I would stop there, wait for her to get ready, and then we would go to school together.

She wanted to become a model or a Bollywood actress. She had big dreams.
I was the opposite, simple and quiet.

In class, I was usually first in rank. She came second. But there was never any competition between us. Our bond was beautiful.

The only thing we both loved equally was Shaktimaan. That was our thing.

Once, during a sports day event in the 6th grade, we were supposed to sing the welcome song for the chief guest. But it was a Sunday, and we got too busy watching Shaktimaan.

We forgot all about the prize ceremony. School staff found us and told us the chief guest had changed, and everyone was waiting.

We ran to school, embarrassed, and gave a really poor performance.
We laughed about it for days.

One Holi, she came to my house with a bunch of neighborhood kids.
We played Holi like mad colors, water, laughter. We even went to a big pond to bathe and slipped in the mud. It was messy and hilarious.

After 6th grade, we went to different schools. She stayed in the same one. I shifted to another.

One evening, my mom and I were about to get water from the well. But she came running and said, “Let’s go to the magician’s show!” We went without telling my mom.

Later, I got beaten with a stick for going without permission. I cried, but honestly, it was worth it.

We still met on weekends. Her house was just 3 minutes from mine. I knew everyone at her place. She knew everyone at mine. She was close to my siblings, too. Our families were also friendly with each other.

One day in 9th grade, I decided to surprise her. I took a few of my school friends to her school, I wanted to show them how pretty she was. There were holes in the school wall, and I started calling her name from there.

Suddenly, my father showed up. He caught me skipping school. I lied that my teacher had given permission. That was my big mistake.

He went inside her school my siblings also studied thereand found her. He scolded her, saying, “Weekend isn’t enough for you two?”

He then came to my school to check with my teacher. Thankfully, I had already returned by then. There was a 15-minute gap.

My teacher covered for me and said, “She’s a brilliant student. Don’t worry, sir.” I was saved that day.

In 10th grade, she thought of joining my school. She even came during summer break. But due to some family issues, her admission didn’t happen.

Even then, we kept meeting often. Whenever I was missing from home, my father would check my house firs,t and he was always right. That was my favorite place to hang out.

After our 10th board exams, both our families were busy in the fields.
We belonged to farming families.

During the day, after her work, she would come to my house. We would talk about our future science, arts, medical and what to study in 11th grade.

We even planned to study in the same city. There was barely a day we didn’t meet. Once, my grandfather even asked her to tutor my younger sister. She promised, “I’ll come every day.”

Then one evening, my mom had to go to the village head’s house for a meeting. She asked me to join because my friend’s house was nearby.
But I said no. “She just came yesterday. She’ll come again tomorrow.”
So my mom went alone.

Around the same time, my friend drank a bottle of poison. They took her to the hospital. But she died on the way.

That night, my grandfather returned from a wedding. He asked me, “Did you have dinner?” I said yes. Then he told me, “Your friend is no more.” I froze. I asked, “Who?”

He said, “The girl who used to come here every day.”

I didn’t believe him. I cried the whole night. I kept praying, “God, please let it be someone else.” But the next morning, it was confirmed. It was her. She was gone.

I was broken. I didn’t eat. Didn’t speak. I had so many questions in my head.

If I had gone with my mother that evening, maybe she would have been saved. Maybe I could’ve seen her, talked to her, stopped her. That “maybe” has never left me. And it probably never will.

Why didn’t she come to me if something was hurting her? What was she thinking in her last moments?

I never went to her house again. I couldn’t. The thought of calling her name and her not coming to the door was too painful. I still avoid that street even after so many years.

My mother once offered to take me to meet her parents. But I didn’t have the courage. So many memories. So much pain.

She was my first heartbreak. And even today, when I’m sad or happy I still miss her.

She was my best friend. And a part of me left with her that day.

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This post was previously published on ILLUMINATION.

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