I watched as she went away from me. Farther and farther, until she entered into the lift. It was the afternoon. A normal afternoon. One of those slow and mundane Sunday afternoons where you realise that you cannot do anything but enjoy it. When even the traffic is slow outside. The Delhi sun was burning, but even the heat wave felt nice. 

  

It was a good afternoon. Until I was told that I shouldn't be friends with my best friend any more. 

  

How, you ask? 

  

Well, I'll tell you. 

  

Imagine yourself as me: A 26-year-old woman in Delhi. I have a semblance of a career. It's not great, I am not a boss bitch, but I get by. I earn enough to provide for myself and chill out at those posh places once in a while; where they always charge 200 rupees extra for every dish than they should. 

  

She was my best friend. We met in college. And I was a loner, mentally, before I was friends with her. 

  

The funny thing is, Bollywood, Tollywood, whatever wood, none of them prepares you for this. 

  

How to survive a break-up with a friend. 

  

Women aren't usually taught about this, right? 

  

You have songs for heartbreaks. Songs for that first look of love. So many on just feeling the love. Even for the possibility of love. About that first gaze. 

  

There are songs about friendships too. But very rarely there are songs about friends who start to ignore you. Then stops talking. Then ask you to come meet on a Sunday and tell you that not only you aren't invited to their wedding, but also that you aren't exactly friend material they'd want around after marriage. 

  

And so, as I watched my friend, no, best friend, walk away, I didn't even feel hurt. It was a long time coming. I was career oriented. She was made into a well-polished woman ready to be married. And somewhere along this training, I saw her individuality get stripped, slowly and steadily. And I couldn't do anything about it. Because even though it might have hurt her to hear this from me, the worst thing was, I think she knew it deep down as well. 

  

And we had little and little to talk after that. Calls became shorter. Then less frequent. Then shorter than before. There were missed class. Missed texts. And less than before. And I was trying to just make her make time to talk. The friend who was my friend since college wasn't the friend when I would come to visit her over the weekends.  

  

That friend was fading. 

  

And now she has faded. And woosh, in the air, gone. 

  

I stood alone. Watching her climb the step to the metro. 

  

I have seen this happen before. Woman getting married. And old friends that they once had a strong bond with, just vanishing from their lives. It had happened to my mother, my aunts, and my sister. 

  

I had been a fool, thinking that it wouldn't happen to me. That we were the 'modern women'. That we can do it all. 

  

And we can. It's just, maybe I wasn't worth the effort. Because, I was opinionated? Because I wanted to wait for my own marriage? Possibly it was for the belief that one doesn't have to get married? 

  

Where did I go wrong? We were friends because we both had opinions. That's where we had connected: opinions. 

  

She must be gone by now. Onwards towards her house. Onwards towards her new life. And I stood in the dusty Sunday afternoon in Delhi. And the traffic moved. None of these people knew how my heart had been ripped out. How it hurts worse when your friend gives up on you because it's easy for them. 

  

Congratulations to me, I guess. Sisters before misters might be true for others, but not for me. Not any more. 

If you or somebody you know is needs help to deal with relationship issues, consider reaching our ‘Support’ and ‘Engage’ verticals for affordable and inclusive help! 

Like our content? Please show us some support by sharing and up voting!

Image Credits - Pexels.com