I don't know what I'm doing. I seriously don't. Literature, language, writing down stuff, all these things are not my cup of tea. But still here I am. Filling up pages. Writing a diary. Although, I never thought that I would write one.
It's all because of that Dhruv. He says we should always have a try at the unthinkable. Maybe he is right. I don't know. All I am doing, is trying something, which in my words is 'madness'. Me and literature are a mismatch made in heaven. Its Dhruv's mate, not mine. Among all our friends, he is the only one with such God gifted capabilities.
He had once told me that writing down ones thoughts, makes one feel good and feel relaxed. I am just planning to try it out.
I have heard and seen people (in movies of course) writing out their secrets. According to them it lightens their hearts. It's good to open up with someone. Even though that someone is a non living object. It's like talking to oneself. I know it sounds BORING from the very first letter, but if someone has an as insisting friend as mine, they would certainly concur to my condition.
Anyways, all of that laid out, the only thing that bothered me was what would I write about? Dhruv says we can write absolutely anything. ANYTHING. That's a big word. Since there is no one to judge me. So be it. I would write about myself, about my life and about my friends.
I do have many friends. But the closest one is Dhruv. Yes, I've mentioned him already, but so what. Moreover, as it was he who presented me this diary, he gets to keep some credit for it.
Now, speaking of Dhruv, let there be some words to describe him first. Dhruv is one of the calmest human being I've ever seen. Speaks very liitle. Avoides much company. But is gentle and honest. And above all is very secretive. I don't know if he can't or chooses not to bring forth his feelings. Maybe that is why he finds his solitary peace in reading and writing. But however he is, he is my best friend.
As I look back now, it seems pretty unnatural that we became friends. We are completely different from each other. Complete opposites. I often try to find the answer to this question. Nothing suitable occurs to me. But then i realize, that friendship doesn't require reasoning. It just happens. So, I let it be that way.
Now, let me remember, the first time I met him was on the first day of my third standard's class.
I was new in the school and was feeling a lot nervous with all the new faces around me. I remember searching for the faces of my old friends, who were back in my previous school. I remember wishing for a miraculous appearance of any one of them. But quite naturally, nothing of that sort happened.
As my parents were talking to the principal, I was having a look around the school. This was my first experience in a convent school and so the ways, rules and regulations were a bit odd for me. Strangely they felt uncommonly strict. After having completed their little chat, my parents left. My mother kissed me in the forehead before leaving.
Then the principal asked me to follow her as she went up the stairs to the first floor. She turned right and walked down a long corridor, myself trailing behind her . I viewed inside the classrooms as I walked past them. Most of the students spared me eager and questioning glances. A new confused student is always an interesting catch.
I was made to enter the class at the end of the corridor. All eyes were on me as the principal introduced me to the teacher and the entire class. All that sudden attention made me blush. I was then asked to take a seat beside a boy, and then the class resumed. He was a shy fellow. Probably even more than me. He was intently looking at the textbook and taking occasional glances at the teacher. On the desk beside him was his notebook and I stole a quick peek at his name.
It read 'Dhruvojyoti Datta'.
