Friends Forever

We all have seen that naked dream or that falling from a height dream, but when you wake up and the dream continues that’s my life, a nightmare. I told myself that things would be better, but after five years I was still Ms. wet pants. As it was clear from the name that I happened to wet my pants which was not what you think It was, it was water. I changed two schools after that, but hard luck followed me everywhere. So, I made peace with my life and this crisis. But there was one person in my life who was my support system, my best friend. We were together for the last 8 years, we lived across the street. We did everything together, we went to school together, sat together in class, participated in annual bash together as well, but she was a singer and I was a dancer. But other than that, we did everything together, we used to do shopping together and celebrated all the festivals together. On her 16th birthday, her mother and I threw a party for her. Like every year her mother and I had prepared a dance performance on her favorite song, that year the song was Diamond.

“Anjali” I turned to see her mother, she asked to bring Kritika from her room. I went towards her room and I heard her voice, she was talking to someone. I thought she was talking to Anirudh, a guy who liked her. So, I stood behind the door to listen to her conversation, and in a fraction of a moment, my world turned when I heard her say.

It all started 9 years ago. After her family moved to Chandigarh from Palampur. Their home was not the only thing that they left behind, they left Kritika’s soul too. She had no friends here, she was so alone, she stayed quiet for most of the days and six months passed. On a beautiful sunny day of early winters, her mother received a call from Kritika’s Dean, her teacher complained about her weird behavior in the class.

“What kind of behavior?” Kritika’s mother wanted a solid statement.

“She was shouting on walls,” the teacher said with an expression of terror, I don’t think she slept at all that night. I am kidding, but the problem was real, and her parents were so confused. They tried talking to her about this problem on ice cream dates but she didn’t leave a hint. It was like she never shouted to anyone. Slowly those complained increased and the school asked her parents to take Kritika to a therapist.

“A therapist?” her father shouted as they asked for, well, a therapist . We middle-class people think that it is a big deal, but I guess, it is. Her mother just nodded along.

“She is just 7 years old; she needs a better school. They are failing at their job and asking us to take our 7 years old to a therapist.” Her father was not going to keep that option open and her mother was concerned. She decided to talk to her daughter alone. That day after dinner she went to Kritika’s room.

“Gudiya” her mother used to call Kritika Gudiya. “Yes, Ma,” Kritika said in her baby voice. Her mother watched her daughter, so innocent. “why your school is complaining about you? Did you shout to anybody in the class? Is anybody disturbing you?” that was her mother’s concern. “No, Ma. I never shout on anyone; I only talk to Simar.” Kritika’s mother was confused. “Is Simar your friend?” “Yes, Ma she sits with me and she is the one who shouts, but my teacher thinks it is me. I have told my teacher many times, but nobody listens to me” Kritika’s mother was relieved after hearing that. “I will talk to your teacher tomorrow. Don’t worry” she tucked Kritika in bed.

The next morning Kritika’s mother went to see her teacher.

“Hello Mrs. Verma” her teacher entered the room.

“Hello, Karishma. How are you?” Mrs. Verma wanted to tell her everything, but she sat there calmly.

“So, you asked to meet me today. Any update on Kritika’s situation?” Kritika’s mother felt bad at her reaction.

“I talked to my daughter last night and she told me that you are framing her for a student. I don’t know if she is related to you or to someone in trustees, but my daughter is fine.” She was more relaxed now.

“What?” she mostly shouted

“I know about Simar, she sits next to my daughter.”

“Ma’am, your daughter sits alone in the class and there is no student named Simar in my class. Kritika is cooking something to save herself” her teacher’s reply made Kritika’s mother more worried.

She wanted to come home with a relaxed mood, but she was more worried. Simar didn't exist. Of course, Mrs. Verma didn’t believe the teacher and checked the school register. She came home and went straight to Kritika.

“Gudiya, who is Simar?” She just wanted the answer to all her questions at once.

“She is my best friend Ma” Kritika answered

“Where did you meet her?”

“Here, in my room” Kritika’s mother's heart skipped a beat. She was horrified.

“Ma, Simar promised me she will never leave me because we are friends forever”

Her mother went outside in the open air and was terrified to tell this to her husband or to anybody. She knew nobody would believe her. But she told Kritika’s father the same night, she could not hold it together much longer. They took Kritika to a therapist.

After four sittings the therapist told her parents this shocking news.

“Hello Mr. and Mrs. Verma” the therapist looked calm, but little did they know it was silence before the storm.

“Hello, Mrs. Bajaj. How is she?” Kritika’s mother asked.

“I don’t want to scare you more, so I am going to come to the point straight. She has a friend named Simar, but it’s not a ghost. It’s her imagination and these things are common at this age. I will give you Dr. Supritha’s number she is a specialist.” The therapist sounded reasonable.

“But she will recover,” Kritika’s mom asked again.

“Yes, she will recover.”

Her parents met with Dr. Supritha and she suggested to force a real friendship on her. The nearest person was me, so her parents started having me at their house for night outs. This built a friendship between us. And then came the day when she introduced me with Simar, I was so scared. But I saw her react, she was acting like there was a person and she forced me to talk to her. It was not at all pleasant interaction, but slowly I got used to it. And in weeks she forgot about Simar. And next year she joined my school.

But after 8 years, what I heard which gave me a heartache was.

“Don’t worry nobody will hear us there is a lot of music outside. Of course, you can visit me anytime Simar. We are friends forever.”