Ashok lay on the bed reminiscing. Friendship is a strange thing. He lay there thinking back on his life. At what point did they become friends, he wondered? He couldnt be sure. What had it been. Ten- Twelve years? No, It had been twenty years since the last time he had met Asim in any case. He remembered that day quite clearly. 7th June 1993. He doubted he would ever forget that day when Asim gave him the news. They were playing one on one baseketball. Asim had waited till after they were done with their game. Another draw. They had always been equally matched. As they sat on the emply bleacher, seats sipping on their Gatorade, Asim had broken the news to him gently. His father was being moved, no transferred. They would be leaving in a couple of weeks. It was always that simple with Asim. Quick and to the point. As he had struggled to hide his involuntary tears, Asim had looked far away into the distance and continued sipping his drink. He had never thought that this would come to pass. As he had struggled to voice his thoughts, Asim had looked at him. Straight in the eye. It would be alright he had said. Then, just as suddenly, Asim had pointed to the bright lights of the theatre that stood across the street. Wouldn't it be great to meet there after say fifteen or twenty years? To reconnect after all the years? Play another game of basketball? Grab a real drink? Ashok remembered Asim boxing him playfully on the shoulder at this point? He looked up to see Asim wink. They had tried to get fake id cards. But no matter what the id said, every shopkeeper, bar owner and liquor store owner had been able to guess their real age. Twelve. Heck they looked like they were ten no matter how hard they had tried to look older. Ashok had been lying down on his bed till now. He wondered if he still had that fake id card? He sat up and opened the drawer on table next to his bed. He rifled through his drawer and found the old tin lunch box that he had used as a child. He opened the box and was hit by another wave of nostalgia. Cards, nick nacks and other things that a young boy would hold dear. And then he found it. His id card. Jose Jesus Lopez. He laughed out loud. They had been stupid. The picture was his but the details were someone else's. As he replaced it in the box, his eye caught the small bundle of letters that lay there. There were only three letters. Tied together with a piece of rubber band that had melted and stained the paper. The rubber band had fallen apart but still served its purpose. Well the stickiness of the molten dried rubber bands is what kept them together. It did not matter to Ashok. Nevertheless he carefully removed the rubber band.
After Asim had moved to California, they had kept in touch via letters for a few months. Then these too petered out. They tried emails. The new thing. It had worked for a while Then the interval between the emails like the letters grew longer and then they finally stopped coming. Ashok could not remember if he had sent the last email or if Asim had. Life had taken over. New friends. New activities. Then moving for college. His first real girlfriend. Who would gradute to becoming his fiance. And finally his wife. He looked over. She slumbered softly next to him, oblivious of his thoughts. His career as a staff writer at Boston Globe kept him fairly busy. He knew he could use the resources at his disposal to find Asim quite easily. Find him and everything that had happened to him in the intervening years. But then again that would ruin the surprise. He looked at the Sony alarm clock. The same one he had used all these years. Three days to their meeting. He wondered if Asim was still in California. Or even in the USA for that reason. He didnt know yet. But he would in a few days. He looked at the clock again. A little over 67 hours to go. They had made a pact. One of those life altering pacts that only twelve year olds can dream up. To meet again at the theatre, twenty years to the date and time. To them it had made sense. Now he felt it was a bit silly. What if Asim was halfway around the world? What if he had other committments that would prevent him from coming? A phone call would have been more practical. But Ashok would be there.
He had moved back to Boston after graduating from college. The winters had been an improvement on Michigan and so his wife, Miyako had not complained about the move. Their flat was a lot smaller but young couples in love Boston. And for two in love, like them, it had not mattered. Miyako and he had selected a flat in Fenway. Secretly, he had been glad for it as his route to work took him by the theater daily. Sometimes, he stopped and wondered about Asim. His life. Had he gone to college? Had he a girlfriend? A wife? Maybe a child? What did he do for work now? Today he had stopped by the theater again. Only a few hours ago. He would not have long to wait now. Tomorrow he would visit the pastry shop they had loved as kids and place an order for chocolate eclairs. Asim loved that. And perhaps some creme brulee. He had always had a sweet tooth. Ashok closed the box and put it away. Carefully. He had to be more careful now that Miyako was pregnant. After seven years of trying, she had finally conceived. But that wasnt without its side effects. Her sleep was quite light these days and she had all the weird cravings. Why a week ago she had insisted on eating steak at one in the morning. He looked at her as she slept. She looked so peaceful. He sat there for a while and then, on impulse, he planted a kiss on her cheek before turning the bedside lamp off and lying down next to her. As he lay there, in the darkness of the night, he could hear the sounds of the passing cars in the street downstairs.He listened to the street sounds for a while before his attention was captivated by the ticking of the clock that he could not see. He knew it was on the wall. Miyako had picked it out at the flea market. IT was an old brass clock from Europe that someone who had fallen on hard times was forced to sell. A family heirloom, Miyako had said. He had just nodded. She was the art history major. Besides a few years ago, she had picked up a Turner at the flea market and they ahd sold that for a tidy sum. He glanced over at her again. He could barely see the silhouette of her face in the dim moonlight. He loved her so much. He hoped that Asim had found someone like her. That was his last thought as he slowly drifted into sleep.
The next morning, he woke up a bit later than he usually did and so these thoughts were the last thing on his mind as he rushed to get to work. The next two days were quite busy at work. He had almost forgotten about his plans to order desserts. Luckily for him, Mickey's had had enough to cover what he needed. As he went home the evening before their meeting, he was rather happy. The latest ultrasound had shown they were having a little girl. One as beautiful as Miyaho, he had said. Their parents had been thrilled too. They have all given up hope on a biological child. Asim would be so happy to hear the news too. He clutched the packet with the desserts a little tighter. His boss had agreed to let him have the afternoon off that Friday. Not that he cared. Most people took off without permission on Fridays by two in the afternoon. He entered their flat. Miyako was lying on the bed. Strict bed rest, the doctor had cautioned them. Miyako wasnt taking any chances. He smiled at her and then went off to prepare dinner. He would wake her up later. She already knew about the twenty year old appointment. He had told Miyako so much about Asim, that she was looking forward to meeting hm as much as Ashok was. He cooked in silence and hummed alter as he put the food on the table. Miyako was already there. They ate in silence and called it an early night. Tomorrow was the big day. Ashok could not sleep for a long time that night. The excitement of coming events was too much. He lay there listening to the clock tick away. Counting down the seconds.
Ashok did not remember when he passed out the prvious night but that hardly mattered. He literally jumped out of bed the next morning and was out fhe door in less than a half hour. Miyako was surprised. Usually he was not much of a morning person. She smiled as she heard him slam the door shut. She had instructions to be ready by 3 pm so they could go wait there. The pact they had made was to meet at 4 pm. That day Ashok could hardly focus at work. He turned his column in and was told off for the copy editing errors. He did not care. His edictor asked him if he was sick but Ashok shook his head. As he left for the day, the editor shook his head. Perhaps it was to do with the new baby. He know of Ashok and Miyako's bad luck with children. Three miscarriages over seven years. He hoped this one would make it. They were almost there, he had heard Ashok tell Amanda, the graphics designer a few weeks ago. He sat back down at his desk to correct the article Ashok had just handed in and thought no more of it. We all need a little help sometimes.
Ashok almost skipped all the way home. Asim and he had been inseparable as kids. The terrible two. The teachers were petrified of them. No matter who casued the trouble these two would find themselves being punished. They must have a stake in such actions, their teachers had reasoned.Ashok chuckled as he rememeberd their exploits. Putting red ink into the teacher's cup of tea to make them think they were bleeding. Or the time they had put super-glue onto the toilet seat in the faculty lounge. Mr. Cornwall had been forced to cancel the exam after spending three hours stuck to the throne. Or the time they had set off the fire alarms in the principal's office. He had rushed out half clothed along with his secretary. Had created quite a scandal that one prank had... He laughed as he walked past the theatre. Some of the others on the street gave him looks. The look that one would give a crazy person. Ashok didnt care nor did he observe their looks. He continued on his way home.
When he got home, he found Miyako waiting for him. She was just as excited as he was. They have a quick lunch and then Ashok went off to the theater to meet Asim. Miyako was to wait at home for them to return. It was the height of summer and they had decided it was better if she waited at home. It did not make sense to tax her especially in her delicate condition. Ashok nearly ran all the way to the theatre. And then he waited. They had decided to meet opposite the ticket counter and thats where he waited now. He stood there and eagerly peered into every face that passed by. Thankfully he was looking for someone Indian. Even then, Boston has a large population of Indians as he discovered that day. Every male face was scanned with a hope which was soon dashed. Finally at five, after two hours of waiting, he sat down on the bench that was there. As time had passed by, he had started to lose hope. Maybe it was only he who remembered. He did not blame Asim. It HAD been twenty years. The pact seemed silly now. And yet he could not make himself leave. Not even when there was screeching of tires half a block away. He watched the ambulance screech to the site after a few minutes. It was just a few minutes before five. Since Asim would have been there a few minutes later, he just had to stay. Someone had been hit by a car or truck, he found out from a passerby. Boston drivers, he had thought but had gone back to scanning faces. As he sat there, he wondered how longer he should wait. The excitement of the accident had died down by now. The crowds had dispersed. It had been distracting for a while. Very sad though and yet it had helped him pass the time as he waited. He glanced at his watch again. It was a little before six. He zipped up his jacketand turned up the collar. He should have taken the fleece jacket that Miyako had suggested. Ah well. He would give him thirty minutes more and then leave. It was rather strange waiting here. A few of of the ushers had approached him when they saw him there. They wanted to see if he was okay. When he had mentioned why he was there to the last one, the man had given him a stragne look and left. After that they did not bother him. Although the weather was not as kind. Boston weather was so unpredictable. He shuddered as a fresh gust blew by. He watched as the invisible hands picked up a stray piece of paper. He observed it dance with her invisible partner. So beautiful. Almost like a waltz. A very passionate waltz. As he stood there observaing the pice of paper, he felt a tap on his shoulder.
He turned to see one of the ushers. His hopes which had risen with the tap, were dashed as he observed their maroon livery. Maroon with gold. Frayed over time. He wondered if someone had worn the same uniform all those years ago. He impatiently tried to wave the old usher away, when the usher asked him if his last name was Williams by any chance. Ashok nodded. His father had been American and his mother Indian. They had met when his father had backpacked across India. They had met and his father's one month trip had turned into five years. And then they had come here to Boston and raised him and his sister. The usher smiled. A man had come by a few minutes before he had come and stopped by the counter. He had been on duty at that time. The Indian man had left a note for a Mr Williams. They had naturally assumed Mr Williams was Caucasian or African American man, given the last name. He had not seen Ashok waiting there until a few minutes ago, when one of the other ushers had pointed to him and....He left the sentence hanging. Ashok could guess the rest. The usher reached into his usher reached into his inner pocket and brought out the note. Asim had been there. Ashok nearly cried. He had remembered too. The usher patted him on the shoulder and smiled before he left Ashok to read his note. He had seen so much working there at the theatre. Twenty two years. He thought he recognised Ashok. But he couldnt be sure. He had once thrown two boys out for setting a toilet on fire with firecrackers. No it could not be one of them. They had been inseparable too. Friendships are strange things. He smiled as he traveled down memory lane. He looked up at the lights and displays. This had been home for him for so long. He wondered what he would do after they retired him in a couple of years. Meanwhile as our usher took a leisurely stroll through memory lane, Ashok had sat back down. The cold, surprisingly, did not seem to bother him anymore. He could feel a strange glow. Not from the billboard advertising the latest blockbuster though. He slowly unfolded the hastily written note. Asim still had the same beautiful handwriting. He smiled as he read his friend's note. He had remembered something that he had to do and would be back soon. If he wasnt, could Ashok leave his phone number and address on the other side of the note. Asim would call soon and they could meet later the same evening. Ashok smiled. Trust him to be so spontaneous. After all their pact had been a spontaneous one too. He fished inside his pockets for a pen and wrote down his address, phone number and even drew a crude map of how to get to his apartment from the theatre. He found the old usher inside the counter and handed him back the note. He explained the situation. The old man smiled kindly. He had seen far stranger things in his time there. He promised to do as asked. Ashok thanked him and left. As he walked home, his sense of elation was mixed with a sense of dejection. It is strange how these two contrary feelings could coexist at the same time in one person. Human beings like friendships are strange things.
As he walked into his apartment, he saw Miyako stand up and search the hallway behind him. He slowly walked to the sofa and sat down. She peeked outside and then finally closed the door. She came and sat down next to him. Of course she assumed the worse. She placed her hands in his and then rested her thin neck on his shoulder. He wrapped her in his arms and told her everything. She smiled. There was still hope, she reminded him. As they sat there, they watched the last lights of the sun go out, and the moon rays shine through their window into their tiny apartment. It was a really pretty sight. The same sight that had convinced Miyako that this would be their home all those years ago. He smiled. How quickly he had forgotten. Back then, this was all they could afford. Two fresh college graduates. Then Miyako had found the Turner and they could have moved but somehow they had stayed. He kissed her on the forehead. Gently. He loved her so much. She purred her satisfaction. They moved closer. As only lovers can even while hugging. They sat in silence there for a while. Silence interrupted only by the sounds of the occasional passing car in the street below and the ticking of the clock on the wall behind them. Peace, he thought must be something like this. If only he could freeze this moment forever. As they sat there lost in the moment, he thought he heard a knock on the door. Faint at first but it grew louder after a few seconds. It came in sevens. Tut-tuta-tut-tutt-tutt tutt ...tutt. He almost jumped off off the sofa. Their old code.Miyako looked cross. He aopologised and half stammered his explanation. He was here. HE WAS HERE.
Miyako smiled at her husband. She could still see the strange lost boy who got excited by the strangest things. They had met in the library. Or so he thought. She had seen him, heck almost stalked him for three months before she had engineered a meeting at the library. She nodded. She did love him so much. She tousled his hair and went off to fix her make up a bit. He was too excited to notice. Men! As she walked into the bathroom, Ashok threw open the door. There he stood. Asim.
He had changed. Well of course he had. It had been twenty years. TWENTY! Two decades. Five or six presidents, he count note remember. Measuring time is so hard at times. They stood there unsure of what to do with silly grins on their face. One tried to hug as the other tried a hand-shake. Then they switched. And finally they just shook hands that turned into a bear hug. Tears streamed down their face. It was joyous reunion. Ashok ushered him into the flat and onto the sofa. Asim pointed at the pictures on the mantlepiece and Ashok walked him through the last twenty years of his own life. Miyako would be out shortly, he told Asim. Asim nodded. Asim told him about his own life. He was divorced with one child. A seven year old boy, Adam, who lived with his mother. Bad divorce laywer, he joked. He still got a couple of days with Adam every month. Not the best situation but ..Ashok nodded his understanding. Divorce rates were rising. Infact, Wendy, a colleague of his had written an article about it a few weeks ago. Asim told him about his life in California. He had found work as a casting agent. The chatted amiably for a while. Then Asim got up. Ashok seemed a bit surprised. Did he have to leave already? It had only been a few minutes. Miyako wanted to meet him. Asim shook his head apologetically. He had to meet someone that night. Maybe tomorrow? If Ashok was free. Ashok laughed. Of course he was free. Besides Miyako would kill Ashok if he let Asim go back without meeting him. Asim laughed. They made plans to meet the very next day for brunch. And then wander around Boston. Just like the old days. Visit all their old haunts. They embraced before Asim left.
After Asim left, Ashok sat down on the sofa. It was nice meeting him again, after all these years. He glanced at the clock. 7:30 PM. He had been here only for fifteen minutes. He noticed the unopened box of desserts that Miyako had placed on dining table. In his excitement, Ashok had forgotten to offer him any. No matter. they would last. Miyako emerged from the bathroom. She looked around the apartment. And then at him quizzically. She had heard voices but was surprised to see Ashok sitting there all by himself. Ashok told her of their plans. She smiled. She could prepare something for their brunch tomorrow now. She wished Asim had stayed for dinner. She had laid out the dinner things while Ashok was out. She pulled him off off the sofa so they could go have dinner. He pulled her close instead and they hugged there. She knew how much this meant to her husband. Men may be incapable of emotional displays and her husband was no different. Yet she could see the subtle change in her husband. She held him close. He would make a great father. Inspite of his doubts.They danced softly. Swayed to a beat that only they could hear. Miyako loved to dance with him. He had taken her dancing on their third date. Thats when she knew, she would marry him. They danced for a while before a rumbling from his stomach made Miyako burst into laughter. Ashok made a face and reminded her that he had not eaten in a few hours. They laughed and went off to have dinner. Ashok discussed things they could do tomorrow with Asim. Miyako smiled. He was giddy as a schoolboy. Not surprising since the last time they had met they had been school boys..
After dinner, they watched the news. Ashok loved watching the news. Miyako thought it was funny that he did since he was a news reporter himself. She tousled his hair. No matter how much he combed it it always looked unruly. A black mop she used to say. She never really saw the news. It was too upsetting these days. But she liked to lie next to him as he watched the news. As they sat on their sofa and he watched the news, she rested her head on his chest. She could hear his heart beating. She felt close to him. It was so relaxing to sit there like that. Soon they would have another...
AHHHH!!!! His cry interrupted her thoughts. He sat up suddenly. She almost fell off the sofa, as she had been sitting next to him and had been pushed off as he jerked up. She was about to tell him off when she saw him pointing to the screen. She looked at the screen. They were flashing the video of an Indian man being taken away by the ambulance. She heard the newsreader tell them about the accident that happened in Fenway around 5 PM the same evening. A pedestrian had been the victim of a hit and run. The driver who had hit him was still absconding. It had happened a block away from the theatre. A middle aged man in a black sedan, number plates unknown had committed the crime. The police were on the look out for him. An ambulance had rushed him to the nearest hospital. The victim was said to be in a serious condition. As they shifted to the on-site reporter, Miyako heard her say that the victim was in the ICU. The doctors were not sure if he would survive the night. He had suffered extensive injuries and had been in surgery since arrival at the hospital. As she spoke, the newsreader paused as news readers do, and listened to her earpiece and then relayed the latest update. More details had been released by the hospital. His name was Asim Cooper. The famous Hollywood director. Mr Cooper, a resident of California, had recently been in the news for his very public divorce from his wife, the famous Hollywood beauty..... He had been hit by a driver in Fenway as he crossed the street. The doctors had operated on him and inspite of their best efforts he had succumbed to his injuries just moments before. He had had five surgeries over the past three and a half hours. The official time of death was 9:29 PM. A tragic loss. He was survived by a son. They did not hear the rest of the newscast about his achievements in his short life, including the Oscar he had won last year....Friendship is a strange thing.
After Asim had moved to California, they had kept in touch via letters for a few months. Then these too petered out. They tried emails. The new thing. It had worked for a while Then the interval between the emails like the letters grew longer and then they finally stopped coming. Ashok could not remember if he had sent the last email or if Asim had. Life had taken over. New friends. New activities. Then moving for college. His first real girlfriend. Who would gradute to becoming his fiance. And finally his wife. He looked over. She slumbered softly next to him, oblivious of his thoughts. His career as a staff writer at Boston Globe kept him fairly busy. He knew he could use the resources at his disposal to find Asim quite easily. Find him and everything that had happened to him in the intervening years. But then again that would ruin the surprise. He looked at the Sony alarm clock. The same one he had used all these years. Three days to their meeting. He wondered if Asim was still in California. Or even in the USA for that reason. He didnt know yet. But he would in a few days. He looked at the clock again. A little over 67 hours to go. They had made a pact. One of those life altering pacts that only twelve year olds can dream up. To meet again at the theatre, twenty years to the date and time. To them it had made sense. Now he felt it was a bit silly. What if Asim was halfway around the world? What if he had other committments that would prevent him from coming? A phone call would have been more practical. But Ashok would be there.
He had moved back to Boston after graduating from college. The winters had been an improvement on Michigan and so his wife, Miyako had not complained about the move. Their flat was a lot smaller but young couples in love Boston. And for two in love, like them, it had not mattered. Miyako and he had selected a flat in Fenway. Secretly, he had been glad for it as his route to work took him by the theater daily. Sometimes, he stopped and wondered about Asim. His life. Had he gone to college? Had he a girlfriend? A wife? Maybe a child? What did he do for work now? Today he had stopped by the theater again. Only a few hours ago. He would not have long to wait now. Tomorrow he would visit the pastry shop they had loved as kids and place an order for chocolate eclairs. Asim loved that. And perhaps some creme brulee. He had always had a sweet tooth. Ashok closed the box and put it away. Carefully. He had to be more careful now that Miyako was pregnant. After seven years of trying, she had finally conceived. But that wasnt without its side effects. Her sleep was quite light these days and she had all the weird cravings. Why a week ago she had insisted on eating steak at one in the morning. He looked at her as she slept. She looked so peaceful. He sat there for a while and then, on impulse, he planted a kiss on her cheek before turning the bedside lamp off and lying down next to her. As he lay there, in the darkness of the night, he could hear the sounds of the passing cars in the street downstairs.He listened to the street sounds for a while before his attention was captivated by the ticking of the clock that he could not see. He knew it was on the wall. Miyako had picked it out at the flea market. IT was an old brass clock from Europe that someone who had fallen on hard times was forced to sell. A family heirloom, Miyako had said. He had just nodded. She was the art history major. Besides a few years ago, she had picked up a Turner at the flea market and they ahd sold that for a tidy sum. He glanced over at her again. He could barely see the silhouette of her face in the dim moonlight. He loved her so much. He hoped that Asim had found someone like her. That was his last thought as he slowly drifted into sleep.
The next morning, he woke up a bit later than he usually did and so these thoughts were the last thing on his mind as he rushed to get to work. The next two days were quite busy at work. He had almost forgotten about his plans to order desserts. Luckily for him, Mickey's had had enough to cover what he needed. As he went home the evening before their meeting, he was rather happy. The latest ultrasound had shown they were having a little girl. One as beautiful as Miyaho, he had said. Their parents had been thrilled too. They have all given up hope on a biological child. Asim would be so happy to hear the news too. He clutched the packet with the desserts a little tighter. His boss had agreed to let him have the afternoon off that Friday. Not that he cared. Most people took off without permission on Fridays by two in the afternoon. He entered their flat. Miyako was lying on the bed. Strict bed rest, the doctor had cautioned them. Miyako wasnt taking any chances. He smiled at her and then went off to prepare dinner. He would wake her up later. She already knew about the twenty year old appointment. He had told Miyako so much about Asim, that she was looking forward to meeting hm as much as Ashok was. He cooked in silence and hummed alter as he put the food on the table. Miyako was already there. They ate in silence and called it an early night. Tomorrow was the big day. Ashok could not sleep for a long time that night. The excitement of coming events was too much. He lay there listening to the clock tick away. Counting down the seconds.
Ashok did not remember when he passed out the prvious night but that hardly mattered. He literally jumped out of bed the next morning and was out fhe door in less than a half hour. Miyako was surprised. Usually he was not much of a morning person. She smiled as she heard him slam the door shut. She had instructions to be ready by 3 pm so they could go wait there. The pact they had made was to meet at 4 pm. That day Ashok could hardly focus at work. He turned his column in and was told off for the copy editing errors. He did not care. His edictor asked him if he was sick but Ashok shook his head. As he left for the day, the editor shook his head. Perhaps it was to do with the new baby. He know of Ashok and Miyako's bad luck with children. Three miscarriages over seven years. He hoped this one would make it. They were almost there, he had heard Ashok tell Amanda, the graphics designer a few weeks ago. He sat back down at his desk to correct the article Ashok had just handed in and thought no more of it. We all need a little help sometimes.
Ashok almost skipped all the way home. Asim and he had been inseparable as kids. The terrible two. The teachers were petrified of them. No matter who casued the trouble these two would find themselves being punished. They must have a stake in such actions, their teachers had reasoned.Ashok chuckled as he rememeberd their exploits. Putting red ink into the teacher's cup of tea to make them think they were bleeding. Or the time they had put super-glue onto the toilet seat in the faculty lounge. Mr. Cornwall had been forced to cancel the exam after spending three hours stuck to the throne. Or the time they had set off the fire alarms in the principal's office. He had rushed out half clothed along with his secretary. Had created quite a scandal that one prank had... He laughed as he walked past the theatre. Some of the others on the street gave him looks. The look that one would give a crazy person. Ashok didnt care nor did he observe their looks. He continued on his way home.
When he got home, he found Miyako waiting for him. She was just as excited as he was. They have a quick lunch and then Ashok went off to the theater to meet Asim. Miyako was to wait at home for them to return. It was the height of summer and they had decided it was better if she waited at home. It did not make sense to tax her especially in her delicate condition. Ashok nearly ran all the way to the theatre. And then he waited. They had decided to meet opposite the ticket counter and thats where he waited now. He stood there and eagerly peered into every face that passed by. Thankfully he was looking for someone Indian. Even then, Boston has a large population of Indians as he discovered that day. Every male face was scanned with a hope which was soon dashed. Finally at five, after two hours of waiting, he sat down on the bench that was there. As time had passed by, he had started to lose hope. Maybe it was only he who remembered. He did not blame Asim. It HAD been twenty years. The pact seemed silly now. And yet he could not make himself leave. Not even when there was screeching of tires half a block away. He watched the ambulance screech to the site after a few minutes. It was just a few minutes before five. Since Asim would have been there a few minutes later, he just had to stay. Someone had been hit by a car or truck, he found out from a passerby. Boston drivers, he had thought but had gone back to scanning faces. As he sat there, he wondered how longer he should wait. The excitement of the accident had died down by now. The crowds had dispersed. It had been distracting for a while. Very sad though and yet it had helped him pass the time as he waited. He glanced at his watch again. It was a little before six. He zipped up his jacketand turned up the collar. He should have taken the fleece jacket that Miyako had suggested. Ah well. He would give him thirty minutes more and then leave. It was rather strange waiting here. A few of of the ushers had approached him when they saw him there. They wanted to see if he was okay. When he had mentioned why he was there to the last one, the man had given him a stragne look and left. After that they did not bother him. Although the weather was not as kind. Boston weather was so unpredictable. He shuddered as a fresh gust blew by. He watched as the invisible hands picked up a stray piece of paper. He observed it dance with her invisible partner. So beautiful. Almost like a waltz. A very passionate waltz. As he stood there observaing the pice of paper, he felt a tap on his shoulder.
He turned to see one of the ushers. His hopes which had risen with the tap, were dashed as he observed their maroon livery. Maroon with gold. Frayed over time. He wondered if someone had worn the same uniform all those years ago. He impatiently tried to wave the old usher away, when the usher asked him if his last name was Williams by any chance. Ashok nodded. His father had been American and his mother Indian. They had met when his father had backpacked across India. They had met and his father's one month trip had turned into five years. And then they had come here to Boston and raised him and his sister. The usher smiled. A man had come by a few minutes before he had come and stopped by the counter. He had been on duty at that time. The Indian man had left a note for a Mr Williams. They had naturally assumed Mr Williams was Caucasian or African American man, given the last name. He had not seen Ashok waiting there until a few minutes ago, when one of the other ushers had pointed to him and....He left the sentence hanging. Ashok could guess the rest. The usher reached into his usher reached into his inner pocket and brought out the note. Asim had been there. Ashok nearly cried. He had remembered too. The usher patted him on the shoulder and smiled before he left Ashok to read his note. He had seen so much working there at the theatre. Twenty two years. He thought he recognised Ashok. But he couldnt be sure. He had once thrown two boys out for setting a toilet on fire with firecrackers. No it could not be one of them. They had been inseparable too. Friendships are strange things. He smiled as he traveled down memory lane. He looked up at the lights and displays. This had been home for him for so long. He wondered what he would do after they retired him in a couple of years. Meanwhile as our usher took a leisurely stroll through memory lane, Ashok had sat back down. The cold, surprisingly, did not seem to bother him anymore. He could feel a strange glow. Not from the billboard advertising the latest blockbuster though. He slowly unfolded the hastily written note. Asim still had the same beautiful handwriting. He smiled as he read his friend's note. He had remembered something that he had to do and would be back soon. If he wasnt, could Ashok leave his phone number and address on the other side of the note. Asim would call soon and they could meet later the same evening. Ashok smiled. Trust him to be so spontaneous. After all their pact had been a spontaneous one too. He fished inside his pockets for a pen and wrote down his address, phone number and even drew a crude map of how to get to his apartment from the theatre. He found the old usher inside the counter and handed him back the note. He explained the situation. The old man smiled kindly. He had seen far stranger things in his time there. He promised to do as asked. Ashok thanked him and left. As he walked home, his sense of elation was mixed with a sense of dejection. It is strange how these two contrary feelings could coexist at the same time in one person. Human beings like friendships are strange things.
As he walked into his apartment, he saw Miyako stand up and search the hallway behind him. He slowly walked to the sofa and sat down. She peeked outside and then finally closed the door. She came and sat down next to him. Of course she assumed the worse. She placed her hands in his and then rested her thin neck on his shoulder. He wrapped her in his arms and told her everything. She smiled. There was still hope, she reminded him. As they sat there, they watched the last lights of the sun go out, and the moon rays shine through their window into their tiny apartment. It was a really pretty sight. The same sight that had convinced Miyako that this would be their home all those years ago. He smiled. How quickly he had forgotten. Back then, this was all they could afford. Two fresh college graduates. Then Miyako had found the Turner and they could have moved but somehow they had stayed. He kissed her on the forehead. Gently. He loved her so much. She purred her satisfaction. They moved closer. As only lovers can even while hugging. They sat in silence there for a while. Silence interrupted only by the sounds of the occasional passing car in the street below and the ticking of the clock on the wall behind them. Peace, he thought must be something like this. If only he could freeze this moment forever. As they sat there lost in the moment, he thought he heard a knock on the door. Faint at first but it grew louder after a few seconds. It came in sevens. Tut-tuta-tut-tutt-tutt tutt ...tutt. He almost jumped off off the sofa. Their old code.Miyako looked cross. He aopologised and half stammered his explanation. He was here. HE WAS HERE.
Miyako smiled at her husband. She could still see the strange lost boy who got excited by the strangest things. They had met in the library. Or so he thought. She had seen him, heck almost stalked him for three months before she had engineered a meeting at the library. She nodded. She did love him so much. She tousled his hair and went off to fix her make up a bit. He was too excited to notice. Men! As she walked into the bathroom, Ashok threw open the door. There he stood. Asim.
He had changed. Well of course he had. It had been twenty years. TWENTY! Two decades. Five or six presidents, he count note remember. Measuring time is so hard at times. They stood there unsure of what to do with silly grins on their face. One tried to hug as the other tried a hand-shake. Then they switched. And finally they just shook hands that turned into a bear hug. Tears streamed down their face. It was joyous reunion. Ashok ushered him into the flat and onto the sofa. Asim pointed at the pictures on the mantlepiece and Ashok walked him through the last twenty years of his own life. Miyako would be out shortly, he told Asim. Asim nodded. Asim told him about his own life. He was divorced with one child. A seven year old boy, Adam, who lived with his mother. Bad divorce laywer, he joked. He still got a couple of days with Adam every month. Not the best situation but ..Ashok nodded his understanding. Divorce rates were rising. Infact, Wendy, a colleague of his had written an article about it a few weeks ago. Asim told him about his life in California. He had found work as a casting agent. The chatted amiably for a while. Then Asim got up. Ashok seemed a bit surprised. Did he have to leave already? It had only been a few minutes. Miyako wanted to meet him. Asim shook his head apologetically. He had to meet someone that night. Maybe tomorrow? If Ashok was free. Ashok laughed. Of course he was free. Besides Miyako would kill Ashok if he let Asim go back without meeting him. Asim laughed. They made plans to meet the very next day for brunch. And then wander around Boston. Just like the old days. Visit all their old haunts. They embraced before Asim left.
After Asim left, Ashok sat down on the sofa. It was nice meeting him again, after all these years. He glanced at the clock. 7:30 PM. He had been here only for fifteen minutes. He noticed the unopened box of desserts that Miyako had placed on dining table. In his excitement, Ashok had forgotten to offer him any. No matter. they would last. Miyako emerged from the bathroom. She looked around the apartment. And then at him quizzically. She had heard voices but was surprised to see Ashok sitting there all by himself. Ashok told her of their plans. She smiled. She could prepare something for their brunch tomorrow now. She wished Asim had stayed for dinner. She had laid out the dinner things while Ashok was out. She pulled him off off the sofa so they could go have dinner. He pulled her close instead and they hugged there. She knew how much this meant to her husband. Men may be incapable of emotional displays and her husband was no different. Yet she could see the subtle change in her husband. She held him close. He would make a great father. Inspite of his doubts.They danced softly. Swayed to a beat that only they could hear. Miyako loved to dance with him. He had taken her dancing on their third date. Thats when she knew, she would marry him. They danced for a while before a rumbling from his stomach made Miyako burst into laughter. Ashok made a face and reminded her that he had not eaten in a few hours. They laughed and went off to have dinner. Ashok discussed things they could do tomorrow with Asim. Miyako smiled. He was giddy as a schoolboy. Not surprising since the last time they had met they had been school boys..
After dinner, they watched the news. Ashok loved watching the news. Miyako thought it was funny that he did since he was a news reporter himself. She tousled his hair. No matter how much he combed it it always looked unruly. A black mop she used to say. She never really saw the news. It was too upsetting these days. But she liked to lie next to him as he watched the news. As they sat on their sofa and he watched the news, she rested her head on his chest. She could hear his heart beating. She felt close to him. It was so relaxing to sit there like that. Soon they would have another...
AHHHH!!!! His cry interrupted her thoughts. He sat up suddenly. She almost fell off the sofa, as she had been sitting next to him and had been pushed off as he jerked up. She was about to tell him off when she saw him pointing to the screen. She looked at the screen. They were flashing the video of an Indian man being taken away by the ambulance. She heard the newsreader tell them about the accident that happened in Fenway around 5 PM the same evening. A pedestrian had been the victim of a hit and run. The driver who had hit him was still absconding. It had happened a block away from the theatre. A middle aged man in a black sedan, number plates unknown had committed the crime. The police were on the look out for him. An ambulance had rushed him to the nearest hospital. The victim was said to be in a serious condition. As they shifted to the on-site reporter, Miyako heard her say that the victim was in the ICU. The doctors were not sure if he would survive the night. He had suffered extensive injuries and had been in surgery since arrival at the hospital. As she spoke, the newsreader paused as news readers do, and listened to her earpiece and then relayed the latest update. More details had been released by the hospital. His name was Asim Cooper. The famous Hollywood director. Mr Cooper, a resident of California, had recently been in the news for his very public divorce from his wife, the famous Hollywood beauty..... He had been hit by a driver in Fenway as he crossed the street. The doctors had operated on him and inspite of their best efforts he had succumbed to his injuries just moments before. He had had five surgeries over the past three and a half hours. The official time of death was 9:29 PM. A tragic loss. He was survived by a son. They did not hear the rest of the newscast about his achievements in his short life, including the Oscar he had won last year....Friendship is a strange thing.
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