Lines that define Boundaries.

You sit quietly in the corner of your class staring into space. Thinking about what was and what never will be. 

How eight innocent girls laughed in the courtyard. The loud cheerful laugh, the sort that made people turn and wonder. Perfect days, full of sarcasm, irony, wit and humour. Laiden with only the best comments and plans. Such authority, ability to do the extreme. Live the extreme and be the extreme. What boundaries? What lines?

Under the lush green Japanese fruit tree,stand maturing girls. Right under the brown bark, next to the red brick building. Trademarks. Curious gazes shift from one person to the next in search of something more interesting than the gossip at hand.

The bell rings. Children rush out of their classes. Out of the buildings, pushing and screaming. A blue cube shaped excuse of a canteen. Girls yelling at the top of their lungs. Screaming for samoosa’s and top pops as though life depended on it. Crooked que’s, 6^th graders squeezing their way through and the senior most class staring people down. The bell rings again, break is over. Many leave hungry but the seniors. They stay, eat and take some food to class. All is allowed.

Ninth grade-window row. Worst row. An unforgettable view of what never really mattered at the time. A want to be unique. Turns being taken to stand and sit. Annoying the biology teacher, making her wonder why she ever chose to teach them. Sit stand. Stand sit.

Computer, an amazing discovery and the perfect excuse for thoughtless flings. Long march to the lab and back. Accompanied by wolfish grins and flirtatious remarks. Little boys with such great expectations. Time for first love but all efforts in vain. Girls with different interests.

Eleventh grade, under the bridge, right next to the bathroom window. ‘I want you to stay don’t go with them’ attempts made to justify one decision made in absolute sincerity. Will to get across and make you understand. Failure. Your walk to the library, urgency to join the rest. Future at hand, alone. So very alone without you. Bitter nostalgia.

8 a.m. Pulse increasing as the clock ticks. Fifteen more minutes. Each second ensuring its worth is felt. Pupils dilate. It’s almost time. Line after line moves towards the *ground between the three huge buildings* .tick tock tick tock. Everyone is right in front. Friends and strangers, lovers and haters. Your name is called. You can’t breathe. Concentration is so much that you feel dizzy. Nausea. Long steps to the stage, you get your sash. Smile. An original but nervous smile. Eyes in search of familiar faces. There you are. Thank you for everything.

Friendships. Strange beginnings and sad ends. A letter capable of changing life. Bringing you close to other people. Three girls talk non-stop in class. Soul sisters. Your presence is still felt.

Mistakes and regrets are like egg and yolk. One follows the other. You loved her but you tried to tame her to your ways. Limits are not acceptable. Your downfall was because of what no one ever spoke off. Yet they exiled you. Life sentence. Final goodbyes turned to shouting, accusing and hurting. Too much anger and careless words. A couple of seconds leave eight long years forgotten. You loved me; at least that’s what I believe.

Plans and excitement. Your anticipation beyond imagination. A short run to the black and yellow car. Push, shift, make more room. Caught in the act. An angry man yelling and raising his stick as a warning. Getting down, being forced to re-enter the vicinity. Embarrassment, still beyond imagination. Breaking into a run. Find an excuse. Save face, must find excuse.

Then and now. Two years. Running short of memories. Pictures aren’t enough to pacify the heart. It wants more. Flesh and blood. Emotions. 

An invisible line starts to sketch its way into life. Pointing out the obvious. Continous lectures, long days. Conversations get shorter. Distance has arrived. Night gets lonelier and calmer. Heart is sinking. Absence is not appreciated, can be done without. Monthly gatherings. Lack of gossip. Sleep deprivation along with deprivations felt much more. Different aims, hopes, dreams and opinions. Personalities still matching but not as much. Attempts being made to restore the lost but its much more than us. Time and place and experiences. 

Some are stronger, some weirder and some unrelatably changed. In hopes to hear the unforgettable laughter the line defining our boundaries has been drawn.