Never Again

The Park

30 March 2020

Dear Dairy,

Today felt like every day is going to feel in my lockdown life.

These days of lockdown have to be the perfect time for me to finish the movie script. But, where to start? Why can't you talk, my diary?

I entered my attic-style bedroom to start writing the script. I set up my desk in front of the huge window that overlooks the beautiful hills of Dalhousie. It's going to be a long lockdown after all.

I watched some YouTube videos by Tibetan Zen masters. They say that one must prepare well before a new project. Some changes are necessary while some are not as important. But the room where you engage in creative work has to be organised.

Considering the lockdown situation, all I can say is that it is one of the most unpredictable times. Of course, things will change sooner or later. They must. That's the hope, and we hang on to it.

But I don't know how much peace organising my room will bring me when the world is in chaos.

'Relax. Focus. Concentrate. Yes. Harder,' I told myself. 'Write a few words at a time. Bricks build walls, and eventually walls become buildings.

I sat there for an hour. Yet, I wasn't able to think of any good ideas for the script. I decided to go out for a walk. Maybe that would help me clear my mind.

As I was walking on the street, it started raining. I had come quite far from my home. I would get soaked by the time I got back, so I thought it was best to find some cover under a tree in the park nearby.

It rains quite often here. However, I have no problem with the rain. I find solace in its embrace, for it whispers stories of longing and nostalgia.

Each drop carries the weight of cherished moments, reminding me of someone special from the past.

There's a certain magic in the way raindrops dance, reminiscent of the times we laughed under the drizzle, our smiles reflecting the joy of shared secrets. It's as if the heavens weep, mirroring the bittersweet tears of missing someone dearly.

In the quiet symphony of rainfall, I'm transported to those days when we strolled together, hand in hand, lost in the melody of our hearts. The smell of wet earth becomes a fragrant reminder of shared dreams and whispered promises. Do you like the rain? It's a gentle nudge from the universe, urging us to remember the love that once bloomed like flowers in spring.

As I stood there, under the huge tree, I saw a girl running towards the park. Just like me, she too was searching for a place to take cover from the rain.

She saw me from a distance, and I waved to her, telling her that she could stand under the tree. In a hurry, she sprinted towards the tree, and stood right next to me. She was drenched, and cold. Water dripping from her dark, hazel-coloured hair.

She kept rubbing her hands together for warmth, but after some time she had started shivering. I offered her my jacket. At first she hesitated, but I persuaded her, so she took it.

She looked very familiar. I could have sworn I had met her before. After standing there and pondering about where I had seen her, I finally decided to start a conversation. I asked, "Do you live here?"

She replied, "No, I am just visiting my family. Just the same as you I assume." That was when I realised, who she was. I could recognise that voice anywhere. She is Krutika. We were in the same class in tenth grade. She was the girl who seemed to outsmart you at everything. A million thoughts floated through my mind.

Yet, I continued, "Well, not exactly. Dalhousie is my hometown, but my parents don't live here anymore." She stared at me for a second.

I suddenly felt nervous, and why wouldn't I? We were best friends in tenth grade. Then, we drifted apart, and our friendship snapped after completing high-school.

We went our separate ways. I thought I would never meet her again. Yet, here I am, standing right next of her. The same girl who used to be a good friend of mine. Can you even believe that?

I was just standing there, speechless. Does she remember me? Will she recognise me with the mask on? Or maybe she doesn't remember me.

By now you must know that I am a person who goes on over-thinking about every small detail. I mean, come on, I was thinking of all this stuff standing right next of her.

My train of thoughts was put to halt. She suddenly spoke, "Would you mind taking off your mask for a second?" Well, now I knew that she would recognise me. I took off my mask.

She smiled and said, "I knew it. You are Priyansh. We were in the same class back in school. By the way, I am..., "Krutika", I interrupted her. "So you do remember me." she said.

I nodded, and continued, "So, what are you up to these days?" She replied, "Well, I am a pilot. But international flights are on halt due to the pandemic. So, I am visiting my parents. What about you?"

"I am a Graphics Designer in an IT company. However, I am currently working on a movie script. I know the two are not even closely related. But it is a long story."

We had a long conversation. By the time we were done talking, the rain had stopped, and the sky was clearing up. She was returning my jacket. But, I stopped her from doing so, because she was still wet, and the weather was pretty cold. So, I told her that she should keep it, and that she could return it later. After all, the lockdown didn't seem to be ending anytime soon.

I headed back home. While it felt good catching up with an old friend. But, I still had zero ideas for the script. So, I decided to pick out some books from my old bookshelf. Perhaps I could find some inspiration from those books.

As I was reading, I was reminded of my old diaries. I went to the attic and looked under my bed. There it was, a cardboard box where I kept all of my old diaries.

As a kid, I figured that it was the perfect place to hide them. A place where my parents wouldn't bother to look. What? Don't look at me like that. My diaries have my secrets, and they need to be kept safe.

I opened the box and started flipping the pages of one of the diaries. I had whole pile of them, starting from the year 2002. I didn't know where to start.

In the end, I decided to start from the best year of my life, which was also the worst year of my life. It doesn't make sense. Does it? Well, some things are not supposed to make sense. Anyway, I am going to do a little reading. Maybe, I will find some inspiration for the script.

That's all I have to share for today. Will write soon.

See you soon,

Priyansh