Chalk and cheese couldn't be more different than Arathi and I. While she was fair, beautiful, and statuesque, I could pass off as plain and petite. While she was a total extrovert and ready to make life a true adventure, I fell into the more conservative category. But that's as far as the differences went.

Underlying currents of shared interests, a similar sense of humour, and intellectual pursuits proved much stronger in drawing us close. 4 years of continued togetherness cemented our friendship forever.

Arathi was a patient of bronchial asthma of which there was no cure yet. So, while she was getting conventional allopathic treatment, she continued to get tested for allergic triggers and explored alternate fish medicine and naturopathy too. Bouts of wheezing were not too frequent and were mostly confined to periods of seasonal change. We did not allow her stipulation to mar our exciting college years. We indulged in every mischief in the book, from bunking classes to watching morning shows, to traversing the length and breadth of the city in search of trendy clothes, to indulging in "adam teasing" and more. I also knew about her steady boyfriend, though how that relationship would have culminated if things were different, who was to know?!

On one such occasion, in the middle of a lecture, she found herself plagued with a wheezing attack. We went to an empty classroom and I tried everything to make her feel better. In between gasps of air interspersed with shortness of breath, she managed to convince me that asthmatics had long lives and she would live to be eighty. An hour went by before her breath returned to normal and I took her home. Aunty promptly gave her medicine and treated me to her lovely tea and snacks. In a couple of days, Arathi felt much better and life went on as usual.

21st March 1981, Saturday, is a day etched in our memory. It was the day of Holi, the festival of colours, and all of my friends had gathered in my house to celebrate. Our family being large, the house was teeming with friends and relatives. Arathi loved my mom's Kachauris. My mom was aware that she was not allowed to have fried food, but she naughtily picked up one straight from the ladle, even before my mom could transfer it to a plate. All mummy could say was "watch out! it's hot!” We were all sprawled out in the aangan and were being fed different snacks post the play of colours. Everyone was looking for entertainment and there were cries of Vini Vini from all sides. Our friend Vini was a beautiful singer and the Amitabh starrer Mukaddar Ka Sikandar had just released. The songs were immensely popular and we wanted her to sing Salame Ishq. She sweetly agreed. Just as she ended her part, one of my brother's friend, much older of course, picked up with a full throated rendition of "Iske aage ki ab dastaan mujh se sun", it was straight out of a movie scene and for days thereafter we couldn't stop giggling about that incident.

That was one of the last days we would have fun for a long time because, starting Monday we had to appear for our prefinals.

Just when I was wondering what to do, my dear friend Arathi thrust the book into my hands, instructing me to practice for the upcoming paper. When I showed reluctance to take the same, she emphatically announced that she wouldn't need it as she had already solved all the problems and forced me to take it. At around 1.30 pm that afternoon, we parted ways, promising to call in the evening to discuss doubts if any for the next day's exam.

After lunch and the customary siesta, I woke up to start my revision study. After working through 2 chapters, I decided it was time for a break and a chat with my friends. Back then a chat meant meeting in person or talking to each other on landline phones. As if on cue, I heard the telephone ring and gleefully ran to answer it knowing fully well that it would be MY FRIEND at the other end, calling to check on my progress.

Yes, the call was for me.
No, it wasn't Arathi. It was ABOUT Arathi.

Mary, a senior from college who lived in the same building as Arathi, was calling to inform me that my friend was no more.

SHOCK! DISBELIEF! HORROR!

No adjective can ever describe those emotions.

The What? How? Why? it is a story for another day.

My mom, eldest brother and I immediately rushed to her place, hoping against hope there might have been some mistake. This definitely couldn't be true! The rest of our group arrived and someone informed our college authorities who exempted us from the next day’s exam. The following few days went by in a daze. The pain and shock was bewildering. A song, a careless remark, or a dress, was enough to trigger a flood of memories. Going back to college was traumatic beyond words. Only the fast-approaching exams kept us going.

After Arthi’s passing, I kept in touch with Uncle and Aunty. While Uncle unabashedly cried in pain till he was alive, Aunty never spoke of her sorrow. The relationship with her family has continued to this day and I count myself lucky that I was able to fly out to attend Aunty’s 80th birthday celebrations organised by Arathi's little sister and brother.

- Seema Tiwari

(Seema is Arathi’s childhood friend. She is currently enjoying her post-retirement life with her family.)