Left Unknown

Some things are just better left unsaid. Some things are better left unknown.

"Is-is it true? She-she really left?"

"Yeah"

"She didn't even tell me!"

The boy I was talking to just shrugged.

"Are you sure?" I still had to confirm.

"Pretty sure" he said, nonchalantly "Ask someone else if you don't believe me."

'She' is my best friend. Or was-was my best friend till she left for Delhi. Or till- which was worse- till we had the fight. But I didn't get it. We fight a lot. Now I don't even remember what we fought about that day.

I don't know how much of this showed in my face, because that guy's nonchalant expression suddenly turned into an anxious one, and he asked:

"Are you okay?"

I was going to say that I was fine, but I found my head swaying from side to side, and I started to see yellow smoke wherever I looked, and felt a little giddy, so I had to hold on to the wall and sit myself down on the nearest chair, and instead I asked him to bring me some water.

She didn't have much of a family. It was just her and her divorced mother, and a small government job which took care of most of their expenses.

With the kind of work that her mom did, a- well, expecting that was it- a transfer wouldn't be too surprising, but what was surprising was why, why she didn't ever tell me....

I finished off the whole bottle.

"Well, I would've thought you would be the first one to know about it" the boy said, "You two were so thick with each other."

"So would I" I had recovered enough to talk. "It beats me. It looks like I am the last one to get enlightened."

"You sure you didn't know? I mean, didn't she even drop a hint?"

No. No bloody hint.

"It's obvious that I didn't know, isn't it?" I said, meaning my recent breakdown. "Or do you think that I am just playacting?" I glared at him.

First thing when I got back home, I hooked up her number from my cell, and called. Unintentionally or on-purpose, she didn't pick it up. But I knew she would call back- she always did.

She called the following night.

"What is it?"

"You know what it is."

"OK, I moved to Delhi. What's the deal?"

"You didn't tell me."

"Well, you found out all the same."

"No. It's not the same, and you know it."

Silence on the other line.

"Why did you leave anyway?"

More silence.

"I know you are there. I asked you something- Why did you leave?"

"You asked me something, fine. But I am not obliged to answer. And that" she said, "Isn't any of your business."

I was shocked. "You never said that to me before!"

"I am saying it now. I thought you would be happy, with me going away-you said you didn't want to see my face ever again" I didn't remember saying anything like that. But she keeps a better track of what I say than I do, especially during our fights. I knew it, so I didn't argue. Instead I said:

"I have said worse than that, and you know I never meant any of it"

"Well-"

I attacked what I knew to be another soft spot. "You said you loved Kolkata, and you will die before you leave it. I remember."

"Who cares? I didn't mean that anyway"

But I knew she cared. Because best friends ought to know.

That was the last conversation we ever had.

And all that was sixty years ago...........

It was hard, but I moved on. Without her. I made new friends, I passed out of school with flying colours, I got a good job, I got married, I had kids, grand-kids, money, almost everything. Except...maybe...

An answer.

I had known that she was keeping something back from me, when she said that it 'wasn't my business'. She didn't tell me she was moving because she knew that if she did, she would have to explain why, which I guess she didn't want to.

Sometimes, I wondered, when I had nothing else to wonder about, what it could've been. What was it that she didn't want to let on? Was it anything related to her family? Something too personal to share? But she has always shared every single thing with me- everything from the divorce to each phone call- at times even against her mother's wishes. Then? Something else...but what? She could've easily lied and said that her mom got transferred- but she didn't. Why?

I have been roaming around in this maze of whats and whys and hows for all these years.

Trust me, I thought the entire world out, but I was as much in the dark as I ever was.

Until now.

I was in the Indira Gandhi International Airport, New Delhi, on my way back to Kolkata from a seminar in Singapore. The return flight was running a few minutes late, and so I was sitting on a bench, munching away at a hot dog, when I saw her.

Yes. I saw 'her'.

My best friend.

It didn't take me any more than a second to recognize her-she was just the same- only a few wrinkles, strands of white hair, and some other visible signs of aging. Except that, there wasn't an inch of difference. She hadn't changed a bit! I felt all the years of pent-up doubts rush through me, taking the form of adrenaline...here was the answer to all my questions...standing just a few feet from me...all I have to do is just go up and introduce myself, and ask...she wouldn't have keep it from me now...after all these time...just go up and ask, I told myself...just go...go...

In the end, I didn't.

I just looked at the familiar black ponytail, only with a few white strands in it, and saw it disappear round the corner...

Maybe forever.

What was the use anyway? I thought as I headed for my own flight. What good will it do? She didn't tell me then, so why now?

One doesn't have to know everything.

Some things are just better left unsaid. Some things are better not known....