The sun was still shining somewhere behind those orange & silvery clouds above the hills brightening up the small courtyard in a bright shimmer of golden light before evening comes calling in.
The air had a sweet and moist smell in it and the cool monsoon breeze blew calmly across the courtyard in this sleepy suburb of Goa, brushing against the leaves of the trees surrounding it.
The place looked deserted, all the kids who had been playing there all afternoon had left for their homes, except for one young kid who stayed behind to spend some extra moments with his friend, playing in her courtyard.
She appeared like an angel with her small frame, hazel eyes and long dark hair. She was wearing a long white dress, which had come down right above her ankles and looked more befitting as a night dress than a play wear.
She got up suddenly from the stairs of the front verandah of her house where they both were seated; planning what next to do after the last game of hide & seek had proven to be quite tiring and a bit eerie in this atmosphere.
She got up with a strong resolution, and pointed to the cycle. Quiet excited about the new idea which suddenly struck her, but still not quiet sure whether he would like it or not? She kept looking at him with longing eyes, trying to persuade him and perhaps asking him through her eyes to laud her for her brilliant idea.
There was something special in her eyes which he couldn’t ignore. He got up and ran towards her.
They both got the bicycle out; she sat in the front holding the handle, with her legs sprouted out in the front, noticeably happy to be held by her friend and cycling while he sat behind her, paddling.
There was a strange sense of responsibility which landed upon him as if from the clouds- this was the first time he was feeling responsible, responsible for a girl who was his first best friend, perhaps the very first feelings of being a guy and he didn’t want her to get hurt by falling off from the bicycle.
He had been in this position before, the ‘Band-Aid’ on his right knee kept reminding him of that.
He starts paddling and the cycle starts moving slowly and crankily, unable to bear twice the weight it was designed for. Soon they gain some speed and start encircling the courtyard with him holding the handle from the side and paddling, and she laughing heartily with her leg still sprouted out at the front.
Smile is contagious, and soon they both start laughing with his young mind perhaps forgetting the god sent sense of responsibility for a moment. He takes a sharp turn and she folds her leg bringing them right on top of his and they both fall down.
They both were hurt, his left knee this time was bleeding and her long white dress was torn & full of dirt. There was a long and deep scratch on her left arm which she was holding and looking at with tears in her eyes.
They were still lying on the ground with the bicycle still partially weighing on his right foot. But he kept looking at her face, her cheeks had become dirty with the dirt and tears flowing from her beautiful eyes which in a moment had transformed itself from a happy and glowing one to one full of tears and perhaps blaming him for it.
They lay there for some more seconds before her mom came out, took them both inside the house, washed their wounds and administered first aid.
She was still sobbing looking at her torn dress and her wound as her mom gently held his hand, taking him to his house a couple of houses away.
As they walked, she slowly caressed his hair asking him not to cry, telling him that the wound would heal in a day or two.
But it was not his wounds that he was worried about. It was something else.
Some months later he left Goa for his hometown and never saw her again.
And even after 21 years since that day, this is the only incident which I vividly remember of Goa and of my first friend, Shraddha.
