Soul Sisters: The Saga Of A Soulful Friendship

There is that one moment in life when you meet someone and you know, you are made of the same raw earth, the mad earth, and the soulful earth. It is always difficult to describe that moment, but within your heart and your soul, you know you were meant to meet and rejoice in each other’s company. She is a woman. I call her my soul sister.

I met her on a summer evening. I just joined Miranda House and stayed at Aparna Girls Hostel. She too was a fresher and we were about to be roommates. I saw a healthy short-haired girl infront of me. Nothing struck me then. She found the room too hot so she chose to stay on the ground floor and I on the third floor. That was how I met Adhira Sharma for the first time I never found anything special about her. In fact, at that point, she was so unimportant to me that I did not even form an opinion about her. I saw her in the mess or the TV room on and off. That was Adhira to me, for the first two years we shared the same roof.

But there is something about destiny. It is beautifully timed and perfectly organized. In my third year, I met her again in my random conversations. I knew it then, she and I were meant to be friends. In her words, “We were meant to sit on the terrace under the stars on nights and talk about dreams and life with that little understanding of life we had. We connected immediately. I was awed by the wisdom that a carefree girl could possess. Some of the stories and words stayed with me irrespective of their content. Some words lingered and reminded me of you much later when they came true like prophecies.”

Some people are broken, some are happy, some wise, and others are learners. I was broken, very broken from within, yet tried to be wise and smile. Adhira was the perfect listener. I spoke, and she listened. It was that time, I doubted myself. My strongest feelings about myself were that of worthlessness. At that point in time, I was engulfed with unrequited love. To hide this feeling sometimes, I tried to be wise and sometimes mean, but my stories continued. It was only she who understood that behind all the smiles and wisdom, my heart was in ravages. It always was. Night after night we walked on the terrace and from then, my stories began. I who was also a teenage kid then realized that, “I too have a story.”  In all the years of growing and hiding myself, I opened my heart to her. She listened because she understood. I read my poems, she said, “Someday, you will tell your tales and the world will listen.”  Now a decade later I see her prophesies coming true.

When heartbreak came, I refused to acknowledge it. He called me names. I fell apart. Adhira was preparing for her MBA then and staying with her sister. I text her, “Adhira, all I ever wanted was to be a good girl.” She replied, “You are a good girl.” Simple words, profound emotions, I cried the whole night. But I clung to her words. I never believed what I wrote would be accepted by the readers. She did. I wrote. One day, she said, “Pompi, my dream is to hold your book before I die.” It was her dream. No one ever dreamt about me so selflessly. She did. That night, I cried again.

Then came a time, when we lived in different cities, and we managed to find and lose base. Yet, in every moment when crisis rang the bell, she was there.

We started working. In between the client and boss, we found time to write that mail to each other, we caught over conversations, she was like a shadow and I like hers stuck to each other.

This Valentine’s Day, she got married. I could not attend. But I wrote 15 letters to her. Just three days into her marriage and I was a little upset about a friend, she was still concerned and wanted to know. That day, I knew for sure that only soul sisters can do so. The day she was about to get married, I told her, “Adhira I will never leave you.” She said, “Thank you.”

And I know like me that day she too cried.

Image via Unsplash

This piece was first written in 2016 for a competition. Published here without any change.

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