A few months ago, in a crazily sun-lit class, I played a game with my friends.
As we sat there, hiding from the monotonous drone of an irritable professor,we discussed emotions that we had never ever experienced.
amidst giggles, snatches of the abovementioned professor's voice and frequent shh-es, I pondered over the question in mind.
Anger,nope.
Love,nope.
Hatred, definitely nope.
Happiness,nope.
Greed,Nope.
Jealousy,nope.
The list was infinite. The lecture wasn't. The closing bell brought an end to the lecture. And to my search as well. Knowing that I had exhausted all possible emotions, I settled on acceptance.
Three days ago, I realized that I was wrong.
Losing someone who you were close to is nothing compared to the way it's portrayed in television soaps and romance novels, its much worse.
Twenty years of knowing her and I realized that whatever I have known about Avanti can't be summarized in a post,a blog or even a dedicated book.
Sure, we all knew about her love for Shahrukh Khan, (it almost bordered on obsession if you ask me) and her hatred towards Yuvraj Singh ( another obsession,if you ask me again!). Yeah, beneath this hair-loving,shopaholic, critically-acclaimed film expert lay a girl like no other.
A girl, who at the age of six, pinched my nose with a clothespin and pushed me onto an overly ripe jack fruit, (though not simultaneously) just for fun.
A girl, who at the age of eight, dressed up as a fairy for a family fancy dress competition wanting to spread peace and harmony across the world.
A girl, who at the age of nine, had a imaginary kangaroo friend named maya.
A girl, who at the age of ten, knew more about the world wresting federation than most boys her age did.
A girl, who at the age of eleven thought that flouroscent green tights and an Undertaker T-shirt were cool, and who was gutsy enough to still think they were.
A girl, who at the of twelve, gave up on meat, because franky speaking, she thought that being a non-vegetarian sucked.
A girl, who at the age of thirteen, loved songs from B-grade Bobby Deol movies, and had the guts to admit it.
A girl, who at the age of fourteen, wanted to become a Miss India Coordinator, and who, in her own cheesy way, wanted to make a difference in the world.
A girl, who at the age of eighteen, said, and I quote " Charlie and the Chocolate factory is a classic Tim Burton movie. Its a movie which says" Come, watch me!"", with a straight face.
A girl who at the age of nineteen, paid for the hundreds of times we went to Mochas or CCDs, telling me that she was going to get pay back when I started earning.
A girl, who at the age of twenty, took me along to see artsy plays at the Prithvi, after which we discussed them rather pretentiously outside the cafe to seem elite.
A girl who at the age of twenty one, obsessed over high heel confidential so much that she could exactly pinpoint a dress in a fashion magazine into the blog's archives, date,name or designer wise.
To the girl, who always wanted to stay tall.
Avanti, this one's for you.
