The Last Text

And that was probably the last text I had typed for Avni. Avni was the ideal partner any boy would wish to find in a best friend. Although I screwed up our introduction, which ended up on an unfriendly note, we managed to overcome our differences, eventually. This newly formed partnership, however, was criticized by jealous eyes.


Avni shared an unknown, inexplicable connection with me. There were days when she would feel low or cry for incidents such as a loss of a beloved, and I, being the composed and merrier of the two, would comfort her by saying meaningless, absurd things to bring up a smile on that beautiful face. On the other hand, when it came to handling me, she would turn her role into that of my grandmother and would even behave like her. No matter how annoyed I pretended to her,  I loved it. Only “it”? Yes, because the past tense won’t apply for her. The hardest question I ever asked myself was whether my feelings for her was mere infatuation originated from care or love originated from care, care being the constant of proportionality in both. Life answered me, “None! Love at first sight”. Love is one of those precious, short-lived phenomena in life that requires no minimum age for understanding. It’s as easy as a toddler’s ABC once you are able to find her, your special her. And I was at college so ABC wasn’t tough for me either.

Jealousy and insecurity might have played the most important part in my unimportant story. In two years or so, I had generated such a strong bond with Avni that I could not make myself realize that she too had a life of her own. She made new friends, I did too. She made close friends and I seemingly did too. And that marked the distance in our friendship. She heard awry tales about me and started thinking me as a womanizer. Common friends acted as catalysts to increase the distance. Staged incidents also reached her ears which demoralized her aestivated-cum-hibernated feelings for me. I, however, had no objections against her and silently accepted her allegations. Unlike her, I was too carried away by her qualities and perfection to pay heed to anything else. Interactions stopped gradually and my call record started losing track of her whereabouts.


It was a damp monsoon evening and I was busy packing my last-minute essentials for the journey. Kashmir was burning those days and we all feared that our family trip might turn into a martyr trip if things went rogue in the state. My fear was soon overcome by varied emotions as I received her text.

“Do you think I’m a fool and you are acting great by ignoring me?”, she texted.

“What? ”

“Why didn’t you tell me about your trip, Nishith?”, she shouted through her message.

“Yes, I’m leaving for Kashmir tonight”

“Oh really? I didn’t know at all! And what were those Facebook posts for!”, she shouted even more

“Those lyrics were for you”

“It’s all fate’s game you know”

I paused for a while. I didn’t know what to reply her and was more unsure about how she would react. But they say that only God could co-ordinate the mind, heart and fingers at the same time and I, the disgraceful mortal ever born, unwillingly texted her,

“Avni I just wanted to say you something before leaving”

“What?” she texted back.


“I love you”

I switched off my mobile.

                               Sayan Roy


Featured photo via


2 thoughts on “The Last Text

  1. Right through the heart ^_^ Loved it..!! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Some stories truly linger on….even this does..

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this:
search previous next tag category expand menu location phone mail time cart zoom edit close