My best friend,
Omar,
Whom I used to share my dreams with,
Under the shade of a big tree,
Always talked about how money
Destroys friendship.
We were just fifteen.
We never got the chance
To argue about it;
Because we parted ways,
Searching for the same money.
One day, I was at ease,
Under the shade of the big tree,
After a couple of quinquennium,
With some friends
Drinking cinnamon tea with na'naa.
With my eyes closed,
I was reminiscing the old days;
Memories flashing back to me soo brightly
As if they were fireflies
Emerging at midnight.
Then the news arrived,
On the front page
Is Omar's face,
Whom I was just daydreaming about.
Next to it is the caption,
'Money makes friends.’
What a fool!
How wry he sounds.
I went to see him;
I was escorted to him,
Searched by guards.
Good Lord!
Paralleled thoughts running through my head.
In his suit;
Pitch-black like the crow,
Sitting on an Aeron chair.
He lives like the eclipse.
Converged thoughts.
We exchanged greetings.
He still remembers me.
He told me about the experience he had in Spain.
Before the meal,
For aperitif, he ordered for a sherry.
We laughed and talked about our success.
Prior to my departure,
I reminded him of our long awaited bicker.
Then, he looked startled but biddable.
He came to me at home, but
We decided to have an alfresco lunch
At our best spot;
The big tree,
For the sake of our good old days.
In our conversation,
He took a sip of Indian tea with na'naa
Which made him felt heavenly.
Then he sighed heavily and said:
'Even though I sound ironical,
We will still remain as we used to be like then.'
I understood but vaguely.
After he went,
On my bed
Reading William's plays,
I ascertained what he meant by that.
Then I was relieved.
I remembered his catchphrase quote:
"At some point,
You have to realize that some people can stay
In your heart but not in your life,
And vice-versa."
That is maturity.
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