I am writing this sitting on the steps. I have been waiting to tell you for so long. So, I am writing this letter instead. I know we like each other and see each other at school, but it feels like we don’t know each other yet. I feel we have not talked for ages. How are you? I always think of you when I am home and at school. I think a lot about when we went on holiday, how we smoked and walked among the tea bushes.
How about you? I know this is random, but I also think of Ramani. I wish Ramani looks at me the way I look at her. But instead, she gives me blank looks. When I think about it hurts, it hurts badly.
But you are so nice. When you hold my hand, it feels so good. You and I talked about all sorts of things, and I hope we continue that way. Not only during our holidays but every day.
I really want us to keep talking, going to movies and trips. And do more things together? What about you? Perhaps you think, “What is there left to talk about? I promise there are a lot more. I have many things to say. I hope you do too.
How about we meet after school tomorrow?
By the way, I fought with Rohan. Well, it was not really a fight. It was an argument over something he said. I was so angry; I did not want to look at him again. It was just a tiff. I have cooled down now. Is he jealous of me, about you? Or both of us? I won’t visit him at his house again. I was impressed with his big room and the comic books. I can do without them, anyway. I will not borrow his comics any more.
I have started wondering about the other boys in our school. I wish Ramani attend Good Shepherd. Then we can go home on the same bus. I hope nobody notices us together and nobody tells our ammas about us. Will the other boys in the school bus laugh at us if they see us together? What do you think? Do you like Ramani?
You might think, who is this Ramani? I showed her from a distance at our church feast. And you said she was pretty. Do you remember her now?
By the way, I keep looking at what you wrote on my autograph. Thank you for being my lifelong friend.
The other day, amma read one of your letters. It was my mistake, leaving it on my desk. She usually does not go through my stuff. But she never asked me anything after that.
This letter is already too long. I could keep on writing forever. I think you will read this and keep this letter in a secret place. I need to go to my next class. I just really wanted to talk.
Bye for now
Your friend
A letter to his best friend from a sixteen-year-old boy dated 1971.
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