subhalakshi roy; 1978-2006

I remember her sitting by my side daydreaming through the maths class and then begging me to explain the equation to her later.

I remember myself letting her copy from my notes.

I remember her sulking because she thought I was paying more attention to her grandmom.

I remember her laughing at the stupidest of my jokes.

I remember her bright smile when I made her hear a new song.

I remember her singing Rabindrasangeet like the whole world is her audience.

I remember her grandmom asking me to look after her when some of her classmates were bothering her.

I remember myself bullying my juniors for the first time in my life and feeling damn kicked because it made her happy.

I remember us talking about nothing for endless hours.

I remember her eating up my lunch in between classes.

I remember her eyes which revealed the child woman that she was.

What I want to wipe out from my memory is her lips half paralysed telling me “I can’t sing anymore”; Her eyes helpless while I feed her; Angry at the world because it couldn’t help ease her pain, make her well again, because it wasn’t telling her what is happening to her. Only if I knew how to.

Despite the haze of pain clouding my brain, I realise it is better this way. She can rest now.

Goodbye my friend. I love you.