My Friend Tulsi

This is the story of Arti. She is revisiting her friendship with her childhood friend, Tulsi.

Arti would often visit her grandparents in summer. The best part of the visit was her friend, Tulsi. Arti would spend a lot of time with her. Tulsi was not so well read, neither was she sophisticated like Arti. But her simplicity made her a beautiful companion.

1 May, 2000

The smell of ripe mangoes has filled the air with a sweet freshness. There was a time when I used to love mangoes. And so did Tulsi. I don’t know why but summer always reminds me of her!

As a child, I would visit Bhimapur every summer with my parents. We are a small family. Me, my mummy, and my papa. My papa was a single child and hence, when he left for job my Dadu and Dadi were left alone in the village.

My Dadu loves the village life and is reluctant to leave, but my Dadi loves the city. She often visits us on special occasions.

I loved my life as a kid. I was loved by all—my parents, grandparents, friends, and relatives. They all visited me, loved to spend time with me. I loved them too, but I loved it more when I was with Tulsi! I connected with her very well. She spoke less and listened more. I used to tell her about my entire year, my friends, teachers, etc. And she would listen very patiently.

She would always speak some words of wisdom in the end. Magically, her suggestions would always solve my problems.

Sometimes when I look back, I realise that I knew less about her problems. She never spoke, only listened!!

She was that shy girl who was always blushing and being respectful to others. She tied her hair well and her clothes were always neat. She would always use a soft tone to speak.

I remember when we were young we use to visit her grandfather in the farm. Tulsi would pack lunch for him and we would walk the road speaking about of our future.

I would always boast about my dreams and how I would be a successful entrepreneur someday. I would never work for anyone and would be in full control of my life.

She would agree with everything. It was her thing—being a supportive friend!

When I would ask her about her life goals, she would simply say, “I don’t think too much about the future.”

She had less friends. Apart from me, she was friends with a few like Shanti, Badal, Rashmi. Badal used to like her. I could see in his eyes. But Tulsi was not interested, I felt. Well that was just a childhood crush! She anyway married someone else.

Oh! I didn’t mention. She married early. Just when I joined college I heard the news. It was an arranged marriage.

It was 4:00 p.m. Arti started packing her things. The bank was less crowded today, so she could leave early. She had a train to Bhimapur the next day. She had applied for 15 days’ leave because her grandfather had passed away.

It’s been 5 years since her last visit. Her father had gotten into a fight with her grandfather. He wanted to sell some land in the village but her grandfather won’t agree. That was the last time they were there. And the last time when she saw Tulsi. Tulsi was newly married and had came to see her grandparents.

Arti took an auto to go home. She recalled the last visit to her village.

It was a sad evening. Papa and Dadu were not speaking. My mother was packing the bags. I went to see Tulsi. She was wearing a green sari that evening. She looked more beautiful than ever. But her face looked blank without a trace of emotion. Earlier there used to be a gentle smile on her face. Now she just looks blankly on my face.

“You seem lost! All okay?”, I asked.

“Nothing important! You say. Already dressed up. Are you guys leaving early?”, spoke Tulsi.

I spoke with a sad face, “ Hmm! Papa is angry. We are going back. I think now I will get to see you next year.”

Tulsi looked disappointed. She said, “Hope things get better soon!”

I was a bit turned off, “That’s it? No suggestion or advice?, I asked.

Tulsi smiled a bit and said, “I am running out of advices now. You will find a solution on your own.”

I hugged her and said with slight resentment that I would come back for more of her advices.

I never went back. Papa broke all relations with our village. Life has never been easy after that. College was difficult and so was job. I was in a relationship but even that didn’t work. Tired of my busy life, I had only one hope that we would go back to my village. That is my safe haven.

We are finally going back!

One day later in Bhimapur

Arti and her parents entered the village. As their car moved through the rough roads of the village, the old memories came back like a gentle spring breeze.

It is still the same. Felt like it was yesterday when they had turned their back on their ancestral home.

When they reached home, they were welcomed by Arti’s grandmother. She hugged Arti and her mother. She was still not talking to her son, who had left them unattended for years.

As days passed the final rituals were coming to an end. But there was no news of Tulsi. She was at her in-laws place, it seemed. The time was not appropriate for any enquiry.

14 May, 2000

All rituals are over and we are leaving tomorrow. I wonder if I should ask Dadi about the wellbeing of Tulsi. It’s been a long time since I last saw her.

Arti finally asked her grandmother.

Arti: “Dadi, how is Tulsi?”

Dadi: “Tulsi… Don’t you know? She ran away with Badal.”

Arti was dumbstruck. She couldn’t respond for a moment and then I asked again, “I know nothing of it.”

Dadi: “I suppose you don’t talk much with your mother. She knows!

Anyway, it happed 4 years back. No one knew what was brewing in between the two, Tulsi and Badal. Apparently they had an affair. Only a year had passed after her marriage and that witch she left her husband and ran away with him.”

I am shocked. I feel as if I know nothing about my best friend. She had an affair with Badal. He was friends with Tulsi. But an affair? She was such a nice girl. How could she cheat on her husband?

Arti: “Where is she now? And what about her husband? Why did she leave him?”

Dadi (spoke carelessly): “Her husband was a drunken fool. He used to beat her as we heard. But still, he was her husband right!! How could you cheat on your partner?”

I am furious now. Is this woman crazy. She is defending an abusive man just because he is a man, a husband!!!

Dadi: “Forget about her. You should get married now. You have attained the right age…”

Dadi kept speaking but I was in my zone now. I felt disappointed. Not because she cheated on her husband but because I had no idea that she was unhappy in her marriage.

Time passed by. Everyone got back to their life. Dadi moved with Arti’s mother. Arti got married and shifted to Varanasi with her husband. She never got to see her friend again but she wished she had asked her more about her problems when they were together. This is life, we are so deeply surrounded by our problems that we ignore the important people in our lives.