Hema, Where Are You? A Doctor in Jeddah Searches for an Old Friend; A Friendship Torn by Love
A young woman in love with her relative, discouraged from friendship and study by strict warnings from teachers and parents, lost a beautiful friendship in the process. Even though we met occasionally, there was no chance to speak further. Now, Induchandra, a doctor and artist at Jeddah National Hospital, is searching for Hema, her dear friend from St. Mary’s College, Thrissur, which holds a special place in her memories. Everyone has stories about their beloved friends, and I, too, have one such friend. But today, I don’t know where she is. Still, I am searching for her. What I write now is about the days of my pre-degree education. After completing 10th grade at St. Joseph’s School in Alappuzha, I moved to the cultural city of Thrissur. Until then, I had been living with my father in Alappuzha. For my pre-degree studies, I shifted to live with my mother, who worked at Thrissur Medical College. I joined the renowned St. Mary’s College, Thrissur, with high hopes and excitement. The main reason for my move was the entrance coaching under Thomas Sir. College life was not particularly eventful for me. Thomas Sir had given strict instructions not to participate in any extracurricular activities, and I followed them to the letter. The new place, unfamiliar faces, and surroundings fascinated me. Amid this, I felt slightly uneasy during the initial days of the new academic year. It was Hema who first approached me to introduce herself. She didn’t come from a financially secure family, but her parents had sent her to study with many hopes pinned on her. She soon became my dearest friend. We had no secrets from each other. For someone like me, who was talkative, she was the perfect companion—just as chatty as I was. People often wondered how a rank-holder like me could be best friends with someone who struggled academically. We walked hand-in-hand across the large campus, creating a stir with our bond. Not everyone was happy about our friendship, especially the nuns at the college. The sister in charge frequently advised me, warning that being friends with someone weak in studies might impact my academic performance. But I didn’t pay any heed. We commuted together from Ayyanthole to college and back, always enjoying each other’s company. One day, Hema confided in me about her love for her cousin. She revealed that her family disapproved of their relationship. Those were times when love was considered a grave sin. I tried hard to dissuade her, even avoiding her for a while. But eventually, I gave in and let her follow her heart. Despite my efforts to stay distant, we remained close friends, sharing our laughter and quarrels. Our bond, however, faced its biggest challenge from the sister. She discovered that Hema was meeting her lover during our daily commute. Although Hema wasn’t expelled from the college, the sister used the incident to sow discord between us. She called my mother to college and informed her about Hema’s love life and how our friendship could tarnish my reputation as a rank-holder. That evening, my father gave me strict orders not to interact with Hema anymore, adding that he had assigned people to keep a watch on me. Caught in this dilemma, I started distancing myself from Hema, though it broke my heart. One day, I told her directly, “It’s your love that’s come between us.” Her reply still echoes in my mind: “Love doesn’t drive people apart; it brings them closer. One day, you’ll understand this, even if not today. I’ve never betrayed you. How could a bond of love destroy our friendship?” Those words were etched in my heart as I watched her walk away. Even though I distanced myself, I never stopped caring for her. I poured all my focus into my studies and graduated with a stellar score, earning a scholarship and securing admission to medical college. The last time we spoke was during autograph exchanges before parting ways. Her face reflected the sadness she carried, but I pretended not to notice. Years later, during my pediatrics posting in my third year of medical studies, I heard a familiar voice call out, “Indu!” Turning around, I saw Hema smiling at me. That’s when I learned she had completed her nursing course. Guilt overwhelmed me for not staying in touch with her all those years. I wanted to talk to her, share my life’s story, and ask about hers. But the rush of the outpatient clinic left no room for conversation. I scribbled her phone number in my hand, but by the time I washed my hands, it had disappeared. I searched for her, but in those days without social media, it was a futile effort. Even today, I’m still looking for her. I have so much to tell her about my life, love, and marriage. Hema, where are you? I have so many unspoken words, unshed tears, and memories to share. If we ever meet again, I hope you’ll listen to the love and sorrow I’ve kept locked in my heart. Your old friend, with a heart still yearning for you, continues to search. Hema, will you ever return?
