The wet sound of rain is all around me.
School. Its what shapes you when you grow up. Because all through your childhood, you are obsessed about it. Education.
Nearly six years ago seven people made a plan. They were the Scarlet Pimpernel, members of an all-virgin group of girls who promised to meet each other on 20th February 2008 no matter where they were in this world. They were invincible in their friendship, so certain nothing could tear apart the bond they had.
I went to the little niche under which they used to meet. I vandalized private property by scribbling out "P***** was here, 20/02/08" on the dark, moss-covered wall, with a piece of brick. It will be covered by moss again. Soon.
Adt is married. She is planning to go to Ireland. So is Roshun. She is busy working in Bangalore. Pulo has become a Chef in Oberoi Mumbai. Rumela's got the job of her dreams in HDFC. Ria is in Hawaii, doing her research work. Sayani's busy flying at Kingfisher.
Work. Friends. People. They change. And you change with them. Even if the Eucalyptus trees bear the carved out promise of coming back, you don't. Only the memory remains, and then it fades silently against the rain that soaks through my skin.