TRISHNA



Recuperating from a relapse of typhoid he got tired walking around the park with Maa. Maa started chatting with her friends, he walked past and sat down on the lonely bench, parked in one of the secluded corners. He sat down, perspiring. Took out his kerchief,wiped his face and in the process his thoughts overtook him.

He was a sensitive teenager, studying in one of the best schools in grade twelve. Had a number of friends but was missing them since the typhoid struck him. Was missing his studies; even at this moment he was thinking about how to cope up with all that he has missed and then Trishna's face popped up in front of his eyes.

Trishna his best friend, always came in the evenings, chatted kept him updated on everything that was happening in school. Of course Trishna will help him, will share her notes and help him with the curriculum. He trusted her a lot. Or was it love. A budding romance between two young teenagers.

"Hey! Why are you sitting here?", this was Trishna's voice. There she was in a ponytail, fresh and vibrant as the morning. "How come you are here? Not going to school today?" , he asked. "No school for me today. I went to your place looking for you. But came to know you are here,so came to see you," she smiled handing him the rose she had in her hand. She sat and chatted, he lost in his words.

Suddenly he came back to his senses by the vibrant shaking of hands. There stood Rajiv and Ajay, his classmates in uniform. He was surprised. " Chal jaldi  (hurry up and come), Trishna is no more". "What?", he asked in disbelief. He looked at the bench. Trishna wasn't there.

"She had some breathing problems at night. The doctor came, gave her medicines, but she lost her breath completely today," said Ajay. "But she was just here , talking to me, talking about school, friends,teachers."

His friends looked at him in disbelief. Was that Trishna a while ago or just his "Trishna"( thirst for Trishna). 
He stared at the bench, the vacant bench stared back at him.....and then his eyes caught the rose in his hands. Trishna had indeed come to him in spirit to hand him her parting gift, a gift of love.

©Madhumita