Bilal, where is my friend?

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6 years, 5 Calicut Beach Shored Boatmonths and change it has been since I last met him. The last days seem a blur. It happened all of a sudden to make any sense. Ain’t that a rhetoric when it comes to life? There were no goodbyes; no shared cigarette over the plans made and lost; no promises to keep. It was replaced by hushed conversations, judgmental views and borderline disgust from some quarters. He could at-least have told this was in his mind. I am sure he had good reason to convert? To block love father cites terror. I am sure that female is behind all this. She looked dicey. You cant stop people from saying things….

The best thing about college friendships is how they frame a backbone to you becoming the person you will be for the rest of your life. Its like the background score to your stepping – to life. People tend to drift off but that music stays in time as a reminder. When he is back I am sure he will recognize it. After all he was the chief composer/conductor in our small circle. Guys lets promise to meet every year once at this same place. Even after we marry and have kids of our own. The 6 feet-wide road running off into the Calicut beach.

We would have taken his side. No matter the odds. Still he chose not to. Who am I to question his wisdom in these matters. The questions I had for him are all but faded by time. Just this one lingers. “Bilal, where is my friend?”

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