Little did I know that it was the last time we would be walking together in this park, where dry leaves of Chinar* had been raining incessantly for past few days.
A huge patch of grey cloud was floating unhurriedly in the deep blue sky.
As we walked leisurely we could feel the crunching of dry leaves deep within our hearts. I glanced at him. He was lost in himself.
“I think I can no longer put off this decision. My parents are getting worked up and it hurts me. It is so unreasonable of them.”
I could see that he was reluctant to take any decision.
“But what’s your problem? You have not been able to give me even one good reason for this procrastination.”
“That’s my predicament. If I have not been able to convince my best friend then how can I convince my parents?”
“What are you up to?”
“I think I will try to buy some time, may be six months or so.”
He caught a dry leaf floating in the air and kept playing with it; there was a wan smile on his lips.
The grey cloud had stopped moving, or so I thought.
“Che sara, sara.” I tried, but weakly, to humour him. He looked at me quizzically and let the dry leaf fall on earth.
It was our last walk in that park.
Few days later he was killed in a road accident, leaving his parents devastated. I moved out of the town before the onset of next autumn.
In memory of a friend who died in a road accident in 1978.
A post for Two Shoes Tuesday
Word prompts- leaf, little
*Botanical name of the tree is Platanus orientalis