There was this girl I came across on Nicksplat.com. Disha Pillai. We got to know each other slowly. I wrote some philosophy to her. What I wrote then, now resides in my blog as The Forgotten Question.
Philosophy is not the subject of this entry. She is. We used to exchange e-mails. Never chatted, never had an audio conversation, never called up. We just exchanged e-mails. Words were all we had to know each other. At times I felt strange about her. No, not love, but just a sort of far-away feeling, you know. That there’s this girl sitting in her own room in some other part of India, a girl I would never meet in this life, never meet in eternity. That’s okay, there are so many people I won’t meet in this life. But that I communicated with her, that I understood her and she understood me, that we both knew the other was alive and breathing, but still we could never meet, left a gaping void somewhere inside me. Like a thread through my window that stretches to a place far away, to a place I don’t know, and I pull it, and I can feel someone pull the other end, and we both know there’s someone out there holding the other end, never to be seen, never to be known beyond that pull of the thread.
Two months ago, we stopped e-mailing. Abruptly. I sent her a few e-mails later. Got no reply. No delivery failure, no crowded inbox. Maybe she just doesn’t check any more. Maybe there was a money problem and they had to sell their computer. Maybe her inbox is now just a desolate old shelter in the middle of nowhere with no one to belong to, no one to send messages, no one to receive them. Maybe they shifted and had to leave things behind. Or maybe… I don’t like to think about it.
She just faded into the dark. Like the momentary gleam of a comet in a star-strewn night sky. So easy, isn’t it, to lose someone? Someone who had no position in my life and yet meant something? Easy, isn’t it?
Oh God, I just hope I open my mailbox one day and freeze with happiness when I see her name out there, on a message, undeniable, unalterable.