“Hello? May I speak to Deborita?”
A silent pause at the other end of the line.
Momentary hesitation, disturbing anxiety
As furtive glances are exchanged.
“Well, she…” an incoherent stammer,
As more anxious looks are exchanged, presumably!
Sensing the tension, I elucidated:
“She has something which belongs to me. I need that for school tomorrow.”
Skipping heartbeats, muffled voices,
the receiver exchanging hands.
A cautious yet wild voice:
“You’ll get it back soon, I’m sure.”
Irritation surfacing, “When? Tomorrow at school?”
Fully aware of her absence in class the next day.
Frantic breathing into the mouthpiece.
Exasperation pressing down on me,
With an edge to my voice:
“When is she ‘visiting’ school again?”
Her long absenteeism, her silent wordless glances, her solitude,
Intrigued me.
Probably I sounded rude.
The disconnected line beeping into my ear.
Conveyance of the sensitivity of the subject.
Will a different angle of approach be useful?
Redial button: redialing Deborita’s number,
My mind delving into its own realm of thoughts
As the monotonous rings pierce the sober silent sanity of my mind.
All I desire is to break into the impenetrable cocoon
Which she has veiled herself in.
But all those friendly gestures, smiles of camaraderie, and reassurances of friendship,
Met by a cold, incomprehensible gaze.
The praises, indulgence in her work and futile attempts at socializing
Met by the same searching gaze, seeing yet unseeing.
The tedious frantic rings fading away into a more regular tone of disconnection.
The forlorn mysterious eyes fill my vision
Even though my fingers work on the buttons.
What do they convey? Her eyes?
Do they warn me of her inner monster
Or dreams unfulfilled, hopes shattered?
Do her brooding yet impassive eyes try to imprint on my mind
The excruciating pain of loneliness and heartbreak,
Of lost and forgotten friendship?
Her ever dilated pupils and her adroit alert frame
Perhaps speak of unspoken, uncontrollable insanity
Which haunts her like a psychological shadow,
Always drawing to her attention,
The fingers pointed at her,
The eyes mocking at her,
The contour the lips of people are assuming as words spill from them.
All directed at her?
Indecipherable expression of one
Who is silently suffering,
Endurance of parental friction
Or toleration of torture?What jeopardizes your normal girlhood, Deborita?
What deprives you of the common simple pleasures and sorrows of adolescence
Which every girl, you and I, are entitled to?
Line of thought interrupted by the beeping a second time.
Uncertain fingers hovering over the buttons
As eyes stare fixedly at the ceiling.
If you only allowed me into your mind, Deborita
To explore your silence and solitude,
If you’d made easy acceptance of my friendship, despite your reluctance,
You wouldn’t have found in me an unworthy friend.
Exhalation of defeat,
As the mechanical voice at the other end
Informs me of my error
Of having typed a wrong non-existent number…
