She stumbled into our lives somewhere in midschool.She was beautiful,kind,very large hearted and the BIGGEST fan of Imran Khan when we were hardly cricket educated.She was my older sister's friend,and my friend,a warm soul who patiently used to take us youngsters along.I remember her singing 'Stumbling in'with one of her friends in one of the school functions,I remember our principal singling her out oneday for being caught on television watching a cricket match in Siliguri during one of the holidays.
Everyone used to pull her leg about her soft spot for the fancy cricketer.
I remember many a times tagging along with her to her father's office in Gangtok to collect her pocket money.She always gave us a treat after that.Once in Siliguri,she came to pick me up onroute home.I met her mother who fed us a wonderful meal and a lot of mangoes.
Growing up is a process,I do not remember exactly where and when we lost touch.I don't even remember if she continued in our school,I am not sure how that is possible because we were good friends.
Thanks to the social network we caught up one fine day.I learnt that she was teaching in a school in Siliguri and seemed to be very popular with her students.
I wanted to catch up with her but I sensed a hesistancy on her part so I did not pursue it.Later she wrote me a note and I understood why.
I got busy with my life but she was always around my social media site liking my posts sometimes I felt undeservedly.
I could sense that she was the same warm soul.My sister in Delhi would often reprimend me for not looking her up when I made those umpteen travels via Siliguri.
On my return from England this year I noticed that she was not appearing in my posts anymore.
Suddenly around the end of last month she appeared on my facebook page.She had liked a picture I had drawn titled 'Treasures in jars of clay-2'
I was anticipating travelling to Siliguri to consult some specialists about my mother's report and I thought I would try and get in touch with her then but I cancelled my travel.
On the 14th of August I got a phone-call from my sister from Delhi about this obituary in the social media.
She had passed away after being in a hospital in Nepal.
I had not spoken to her for over two decades in person,did not know what the train of events were but the sadness we felt was very personal.
I saw a note from her sister in the obituary stating that she had entered her eternal rest.
Imran Khan is become the Prime minister of Pakistan after twenty years of struggle in politics.Life is come a full circle.For my friend,my hope is that she has stumbled in home to be with her King,the real one.
Everyone used to pull her leg about her soft spot for the fancy cricketer.
I remember many a times tagging along with her to her father's office in Gangtok to collect her pocket money.She always gave us a treat after that.Once in Siliguri,she came to pick me up onroute home.I met her mother who fed us a wonderful meal and a lot of mangoes.
Growing up is a process,I do not remember exactly where and when we lost touch.I don't even remember if she continued in our school,I am not sure how that is possible because we were good friends.
Thanks to the social network we caught up one fine day.I learnt that she was teaching in a school in Siliguri and seemed to be very popular with her students.
I wanted to catch up with her but I sensed a hesistancy on her part so I did not pursue it.Later she wrote me a note and I understood why.
I got busy with my life but she was always around my social media site liking my posts sometimes I felt undeservedly.
I could sense that she was the same warm soul.My sister in Delhi would often reprimend me for not looking her up when I made those umpteen travels via Siliguri.
On my return from England this year I noticed that she was not appearing in my posts anymore.
Suddenly around the end of last month she appeared on my facebook page.She had liked a picture I had drawn titled 'Treasures in jars of clay-2'
I was anticipating travelling to Siliguri to consult some specialists about my mother's report and I thought I would try and get in touch with her then but I cancelled my travel.
On the 14th of August I got a phone-call from my sister from Delhi about this obituary in the social media.
She had passed away after being in a hospital in Nepal.
I had not spoken to her for over two decades in person,did not know what the train of events were but the sadness we felt was very personal.
I saw a note from her sister in the obituary stating that she had entered her eternal rest.
Imran Khan is become the Prime minister of Pakistan after twenty years of struggle in politics.Life is come a full circle.For my friend,my hope is that she has stumbled in home to be with her King,the real one.
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