"Phew...whew.....phuwih.....
"Oh god, why is this so damn hard!"
I scolded myself for my inability to do something as simple as a whistle.
Many people my age and many who were just a grade-schooler; they whistled from such a young age as if they were born with a talent for it, and by they I mean almost everyone; except me. However, I was not just an exception. I was an exception even among the exception.
There are many who can't whistle as easily as those with an inborn talent for it. However, with a bit of practice, they can at least reach a decent level and maybe become a professional at the whistling game. But, for some reason, even when I practice regularly, on a daily basis, on my ten-minute commute from home to school and vice-versa for a total of twenty minutes a day, I wasn't able to manage a single sound that could be passed off as something even close to a whistle. It was as if the God of whistling had some personal vendetta against me; what it was, I had no idea of. Even the kid who just passed me by, who was no more than four and a half feet tall, laughed at me and whistled as easily as breathing, as if to mock me, saying 'See, this is how it's done.'
I was mad at the young boy. I almost wanted to smack that kid's head. I understood how wrong it was and that I was just trying to vent my frustration at the boy who didn't deserve such punishment (actually, he might deserve it, thinking about how he was openly mocking my inability to whistle). But even though the logical part of my brain was fully recognizing that fact, the emotional circuit was resisting and even overwhelming it.
The logical part of my brain gave up and I turned around, acting on impulse. My brain had already ordered my hands to move up but before it could carry on that order, my brain received signals of pain from my buttocks, stopping me from achieving my goal and calming my nerves.
Angry at how I was suddenly interrupted, I wheezed and cried, "Who the hell is this?!", only to be met with a punch straight to my gut, that probably smashed the few undigested pieces of bread that I had had early this morning.
The girl that had just punched me had her hands raised to her chest level, fists still clenched, and looked at me with narrowed eyes.
It took me less than a second to take in the whole of her face. She had a round face with similarly big and round eyes that had the gentleness of the blue sea in them (though right now dangerous waves were surging behind those eyes). Whenever she smiled showing and flashing her teeth, the smile was so soothing and magnificent that you couldn't take your eyes off her; the dimple in her cheeks was the pit of holy energy (though she wasn't smiling at all right now).
I recognized her.
"Oh, Alicia? Good morning."
She didn't respond and just continued to glare at me with her round eyes changing shape into narrow ones and her brows furrowing.
I wasn't sure why she was behaving strangely, so, although I was hesitant, I dared to ask her the reason behind her foul mood so early in the morning.
"Is everything alright? Why are you angry?"
"Because of you."
The answer was straight and she delivered it without wasting any time and without mercy.
I had taken a good bit of damage but I still had to figure out why she was angry. So, trying to suppress the fear of receiving another blunt response, I asked her again.
"What did I do?"
This was the first we had been meeting today and, as far as I can remember, I don't think I have done anything yesterday or even the day before yesterday that will make her angry.
"You were walking down the road, whistling to yourself, when I called you out. But you didn't respond to me."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
I hadn't heard her or anyone else calling my name out. Maybe it was because of the fact that I had been so engrossed in trying to achieve my long-held dream that I hadn't heard her call me out. But, if she said that she had called me, then maybe she had.
"Okay, I am sorry," I said but in my mind, I couldn't help but wonder - was it that big of a deal to get hurt over? The thought of asking her about it crossed my mind but I decided not to. Being the person who had hurt her in the first place, asking about 'why' she was hurt by such a small thing (according to me), I thought, was insensitive and foolish of me. And what I may consider a small matter can be the whole thing that matters to the other person.
When I reached that conclusion and decided to let this conversation end here, I thought that I was a wonderful person, that I decided to keep my mouth shut for my friend's sake. It brought me joy.
However, that bit of compassionate consideration on my part was wholly unneeded it seemed.
"Fine though I hope that you don't do this again.
"It hurts, you know. The feeling of being ignored by the person you care for and consider a friend. It almost feels as if your whole existence is being ignored by this universe, that you don't matter and that you don't have any value as a human whatsoever."
I thought that she was exaggerating, comparing this small, little thing to the whole of one's existence being insignificant. But, looking at her face, I couldn't bring myself to say so.
Although there was no way for me to ensure that I will hear every time she calls my name, I still nodded to reassure her. I had every intention to go through this little promise.
The conversation came to a lull after that.
The two of us walked side by side as the cherry petals fluttered and danced before our eyes before gracefully landing on the ground in front of us, as if expecting a standing ovation after having delivered a grand performance. We couldn't clap out of nowhere for no particular reason so we just settled for a smile to show our appreciation.
We arrived on the school grounds.
There were many other students, all wearing the same uniform as us, walking through the gate and towards the towering building in front of us.
As we passed through the gates, many noticed us, and those who knew us greeted us, as for those who were a bit close to us than the rest, they began their usual teasing.
"Oh, the best high school couple is here."
"Stop flaunting so early in the morning, damn it!"
"Oh, I am so envious!"
The two of us laughed like usual and said in unison, like usual.
""We aren't a couple.""
Some let up at that, some snorted at us, and some said that we didn't need to lie. But, what we said was the truth. We are friends, nothing more and nothing less. Well, maybe close friends or friends that understood each other well. But, it was still that - friends.
But, even as I put our relationship into words, I always find myself wondering about it.
How did we come to become friends in the first place? We were not even in the same grade. She was one year above me.
If I remember correctly, the first time the two of us spoke was backstage at our annual school program. I was the one managing the performances and handling the schedules so I was backstage the whole time. She was waiting for her turn to come in a glittery, white top and black trousers (?). She had a bit of make-up on and her hair was done in a deadlock. Our conversation started with me making fun of her makeup and hairstyle and her making fun of whatever she could think of me at the moment. We did that until her performance came and we did that also after the performance ended. Fortunately, or maybe, unfortunately looking at the present situation, it didn't end there. The teasing and the verbal jabs continued even after that day, for weeks and for months. And by the time we knew it, we had already bonded together. A bond that I had thought was inseparable at that moment.
The point is - we had become friends. It wasn't forced, nor did some big incident bring us together. It just - happened. As if we were always meant to. As if the choices the two of us had made in life were so to all lead to our meeting. It was natural and I was happy to have found a friend in her.
*****
It was unnatural. It wasn't meant to be like this. There was probably something wrong with this world. Maybe the wheel of the world had started turning backward or maybe it was clogged. I mean, there was no way the two of us would ever even think of going separate ways. Or was it my fault? The fault of our actions or maybe our inactions. What choices did we end up making or what other factors were in play, that resulted in our separation?
Separation?
I still have a hard time using that word. I cannot believe it. But it didn't matter whether I believed it or not, the truth still remained, and it continued to twist the knife in my heart deeper and deeper, with each passing second.
Why had we been separated in the first place?
After graduating high school, although the two of us ended up joining different colleges, they were quite close to each other (it was a two-minute walk). We would frequently meet up at cafes or go home together at times. Since we took different courses and as the semester progressed for each of us, due to class schedules, the time the two of us could meet and spend together shortened significantly. However, this was the age of technology; we made sure to keep up with each other's lives through social media.
She said college was fine for her. She had made new friends. She also said that she had a crush on a boy a year older than her. She did end up proposing to him and found out he already had a girlfriend, but, according to her, the guy was very nice and was considerate even when rejecting her so she wasn't that down in the dumps and was handling rejection more properly than she had initially thought.
Things were going fine.
Things had been going fine up until that point. Up until her birthday.
Her birthday was on September 28. We met up. I gifted her a blue scarf that had caught her attention when we had gone window-shopping once. She was overjoyed. We had a blast. And that was it.
Suddenly, after that point, there was no contact between us. It's not that I didn't try to contact her or that we were busy with our college and work. It was the extended-holiday season and there was nothing for us to do but spend days lazily on our couch. She didn't have anything major going on in her life from what I heard from her friends that I knew lived close to her. I called her but she didn't pick up the phone. I texted her. At first, she left it at seen but after a few more texts, she started even un-seeing them, as if it was all a bother.
I remember feeling completely confused at that moment. What? Why? What had happened? Did I do something? I tried brainstorming. Nothing came to mind. That meant I had done nothing. So what? Is she angry? Why? Why isn't she responding t my texts and calls? Why is she...ignoring me?
The words that she had said to me came rushing back to me.
"It hurts, you know. The feeling of being ignored by the person you care for and consider a friend. It almost feels as if your whole existence is being ignored by this universe, that you don't matter and that you don't have any value as a human whatsoever."
I get in now. I know how it feels to be ignored by someone you care for. I understand that it makes you feel worthless and insignificant to the world. If she was doing all this just so I could get the point she made back in high school, then I get it already. That means this little prank she pulled up is over now, right? I dreamed. I wished it was that. But of course, the reality was something different and as usual, cruel.
My birthday was on October 4th - six days after her birthday. I had hoped that she will wish me on my birthday. No matter how angry she was with me (though I don't know why she would be angry in the first place), she will, at the very least, come to celebrate my birthday with me. But, as it turns out, it was just that - hope. And what comes when your hope is crushed? Despair- overwhelming despair.
I texted and called her every day but she didn't respond. I knew she lived somewhere south of where I lived but I didn't know where exactly and I don't think knowing would have done me any good. In fact, I was thankful that I didn't know where she lived, otherwise, I would have added pain and anxiousness over not going to her house to be upfront with the matter at hand despite knowing her address. That saved me more pain but that didn't mean the pain I was feeling was any less. I was tormented. I spent every second in anguish and turmoil over the unfortunate situation that befell me, and one I had no control over.
The holidays were over and colleges started again.
I saw Alicia countless times on the road.
When I tried to call her, she completely ignored me. She just passed me by. As if she didn't know me and as if we were complete strangers. That hurt. No, 'hurt' was too cute a word. It destroyed me and it obliterated me. But, I didn't give up. I tried a few more times but it just added salt to the injury and achieved no results I desired. While we were on the same bus, when I tried talking to her, she would get out of the bus altogether. Yeah, that also hurt. Although she didn't talk to me now, I still wanted to be able to see her. So, I gave up on trying to talk to her. I usually sat in the front seat and she sat somewhere in the middle rows. Wanting to be heard by her at least, even if I didn't get any sort of response from her, I talked loudly on the bus with friends and even with strangers. I don't know whether she was affected in any way by my actions and words. Heck, at some point, I completely forgot why I was doing that on a public bus. I just continued going about it. As if it were my new daily routine. But at one point, I did wonder. What good would it do me? It had been two months now but no results to my name. So, I gave up. The pain, the anguish, and the feeling of helplessness still remained, but I gave up on trying to talk to her. It was the most natural thing I could do at that moment.
After about six months, I had completely given up and I was on a bus.
The bus was crowded and I had to stand while gripping the rod above as the bus jerked me to and fro.
Was it destiny or cruelty? I didn't know. But I felt like it was a chance. A golden opportunity.
There she was - Alicia. She was seated on the seat right in front of the place I was standing.
She noticed me. She made a displeased face. Then her face lost all semblance of emotion. Then, she swiftly turned her head outside the window.
I was hurt. And I let go of that chance.
She is clearly angry. No, not only angry. She despises me for some reason now. It's not that I don't want to know. I want to - I oh-so-badly want to ask her right here and right now about so many things. Why did she suddenly stop talking to me? Had I done something without realizing it? Have I somehow hurt her? And why does she hate me now? Please don't ignore me. It hurts. Please talk to me.
But I bottled it all up inside and didn't utter a single word.
Why?
Because I knew it would hurt her.
Her actions had conveyed to me clearly that she doesn't want to be called out by me. If I talk to her and people know that the two of us know each other, it would trouble her and it would make her uncomfortable. I understood it all from her actions and her eyes. There was no need for words. And thus I decided it was best to keep silent.
When I reached that conclusion and decided to not ever speak to her again, I thought that I was a wonderful person, that I decided to keep my mouth shut for my friend's sake. Only this time, it didn't bring me joy and only this time I couldn't help but wonder - were we really friends at this point?