“It has taken me nearly a decade to say this, and today, I am finally doing it.”

She looks at me, a bit startled. “What are you talking about?”

“I don’t know what went wrong between us. We had a great friendship—with its fair share of ups and downs, of course—but it was real. We laughed, we bitched, we shared, and then… one day before the release of my book, you dropped a bombshell. You said you couldn’t attend the event and, more than that, you couldn’t keep up with the friendship. Just like that.”

She sighs but doesn’t respond.

I lean forward. “I’ve spent years figuring out what I did wrong while sitting miles away in Baroda. I understand you were not in a good place back then, and maybe coming to the release wasn’t something you wanted to do. But to end our friendship over it? That I never saw coming. And to this day, I have no clue why it happened.”

She avoids my gaze.

“Over the years, I’ve tried to contact you. Sometimes, you’ve responded, but mostly, you’ve stonewalled me. I don’t know why. I even reached out on LinkedIn for professional guidance, but there was silence there, too. From 2019 to 2023, I was in a terrible place mentally. I hit rock bottom. I am trying to get back on track, but the one thing that still eats away is the lack of closure on this chapter of my life.”

She exhales, shaking her head. “It wasn’t like that…”

I cut her off gently. “Then what was it like? Because I have seen you respond to several of our school friends, and I silently curse myself every time for not knowing where I erred. Did I deserve this? For what?”

She fidgets with her fingers but says nothing.

“Friendships form. Friendships end. But like this?”

I let the words hang in the air before continuing. “We’ve spent countless hours at Fine Dine and Urban Tadka, laughing and abusing the same people over Punjabi food. On the last day we met at Korum Mall before I left for Baroda, I gifted you one of my favourite pens. That’s how much I value you. Your actions made it clear that our friendship didn’t mean the same to you. You could have just told me if something I said or did upset you. ‘Yeh galat hai… nahi achha laga.’ I would have understood. God knows I would have never repeated it.”

She finally looks at me, her expression unreadable.

“You once told me, ‘Some friendships are meant to last forever.’ Do you remember that? Because I do. And yet, here we are. Doesn’t seem very forever, does it?”

She stays silent.

I sigh. “In my heart of hearts, I know I never hurt you knowingly. If I did so unknowingly, I am truly sorry. That was never my intention.”

She exhales. “Maybe some things are better left unsaid.”

I shake my head. “No, Rama. Some things need to be said. Otherwise, they linger like ghosts. And I don’t want to carry ghosts anymore.”

She looks away, unsure of what to say.

“But I needed to clean my side of the slate. And this is it. You’ve heard from me for the last time. For the last time, I will put it out there—you remain one of the two people in this world with whom I have shared my deepest fears and insecurities. Our long, bitchy chat sessions kept me going when life was tough. I looked forward to our fortnightly wine and dine or coffee dates, where we caught up, vented, and laughed.”

She closes her eyes briefly as if reliving those memories.

“So much has changed since then, but never in my wildest dreams did I imagine things coming to this.”

I exhale. “To wrap this up, first, I am genuinely sorry for any moment I may have hurt you. Second, I am immensely grateful to you for being my Agony Aunt, sounding board, and friend. Our friendship was something beyond valuation, beyond words. And treating it otherwise would insult what it truly was.”

She opens her mouth to say something but then stops.

“I have said what I wanted to say.” I stand up. “You will remain one of my two most trusted friends till eternity.”

She looks down.

“Good luck.”, I say as I get up and leave.