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And A Missed Call

By Subham Chandra Acharya

Going through the old notebooks I had from class 8th, I remember about the class Science Test we once had, And I had only a night to study, with all



my friends

I thought of finally calling you - The quiet, smart miss class topper,

And a missed call it was,

For I feared questions from your mother if She'd pick

it up,

But you called back,

Talking fill we ran out of questions to discuss, And I was left brimming with joy by the time you had to say bye.

Going through a case of fracture I saw in my anatomy textbook,


I remember the time in monsoon of 2015 when had once slipped and had broken your shin bone, And I would miss "Miss class topper" in a way more

our teachers did,


Her answers, something that annoyed the

backbencher me, were something I'd remember fondly,

Even though all of your friends did talk about you, they didn't visit you,

And a missed call it was,

For I knew you'd be in the hospital then and might want sometime alone,

But you called back,

Talking till you felt worn off, yet happy to have someone to talk to,

And I was left happy to have found a friend, who would be mine when you had to say bye.

Looking at the photos I had from the national level football fournament that our school was a part of, And the introvert me not finding a part among all the others,

Till everyone's ignorance and avoidance over me seemed to break me down,

Till I found myself lonely as no And a missed call it was,

friend was with me,



For I knew you'd probably be busy with your popular friends and not for a boring person But you called back,

Talking fill you really made me feel at ease and special, as you'd stay for me,

And I finally felt loved and belonged, a feeling I've never had before.

Looking now at friends who'd come out of school together,

I'd remember that one zany neighbor of mine who'd say silly things about me all around school,

And all our classmates saying her as my "best

friend" so as to tease me,

And I had felt so irritated over all that,

And a missed call it was,

For I knew you'd probably be feeling the same way as everyone else and I didn't knew if I should even talk at that instant,



called back,

Till I fold you, it's not her but you who's my best


And I felt overjoyed at your "same to you" that day to

know that I had found a friend who is only mine forever.

Listening to that tune of "Kabhi Jo Badal Barse" on Spotify today,

I'd remember the time that I had sung if on our class 9th annual function,

And when all my friends would pester me

I'd had lost my heart to,

me for whom

And sheepishly, the young teen in me could only

uffer your name,

And a missed call it was,

For I knew you'd probably not wish to talk with

after that incident,

But you called back,


And I told you what I've wanted to, that I love you. And I felt complete finally when you said "I'll always be there for you"

Looking back at the old Atlas that I'd take to school

with me,

I remembered the time a month before our class Xth

boards when I felt the need to take a break,

And to visit the Sai mandir for Baba's blessings, Not to bring any other friend along,

But only you besides me, following me on your cycle as we'd ride through the town roads together, And a missed call it was,

For I knew you'd probably say no but I really wanted to know,

And you called back,

To tell

me you'd come with

me on that trip,

And I felt to be at bliss thinking of you near me, with me to enjoy every moment. Together.

Looking back at those old Physics modules of my coaching centre,

I remember the time I had decided to go to Chandigarh to prepare for my medical exams after 10th,

It only meant being away from our hometown for a

couple of years,

But maybe goodbye to our friendship, maybe

meeting again,

And a missed call it was,


For I knew you'd probably not wish to talk with me,

despite me going away forever.

But you called back,

To tell me to focus on my studies and prepare. And an uneasiness fell upon me as I felt this wouldn't be goodbye.

Looking back at the Old Activa that I'd take with me to school everyday in +2,

I remember the day I had decided to stay back, For my parents and to rather prepare from home,

Sometime during the break in between


our classes to

I'd feel to let you know, that I'd now just never let you go!

And a missed call it was,

For I thought I knew you'd probably be busy in your

work and studies,

However, you called back,

However I could sense the uneasiness in



when you argued over me

staying back,

And I felt unsettled for I couldn't identify the words

of the girl I had known.

Looking back at the Birthday gift I had once got for you, but could never gift,

For busy you were, ignoring my presence always

whenever I'd wish to call


Undesirable in your social circle,

Uninvited to any celebration of yours, I just wished

to know if I could gift it to

And a missed call it was,


As I wanted to know the truth and that could only be from you,

And you called back after me trying for several times,

And the voice of you anguished over me not going

away was all I heard,

And I felt lost as it was not the girl I had loved.

Looking now at my photos with "Bhaiya", my senior and closest friend at school,

I'd remember how he used to meet you during class and after school,

And how you would stay with him, the way


I once

And I'd not know what to say, For I couldn't believe at anything bit your word,

And a missed call it was,

As I didn't have the spirit anymore to hear your

voice again, but I did,

he was there

And you called back at once to say he was

much before I was,

That I meant just nothing to you,

And somewhere I felt peace finally when I said

goodbye to you.

To know the girl I had once loved is no more, a

spectre of my past whom I had to leave.

Looking back now on this old phone that once had


your texts, all

your photos,

I remember now that I only have

your number, Reduced from a heart emoji to "batchmate" at the end, And a missed call it was, years after that incident, But a mistake it was not, For a part of me still missed everything,

And you called back somewhat oblivious of the person behind the new number.

And I knew


hid back your fears when

you said "sorry wrong number" after you did recognize my voice,

And I still hide my tears to this day, whenever I

remember you.

Not to show to the people I have in my life,

Not to show up in the mirror on

in the mirror on the only person that

decides who I am now.

By Subham Chandra Acharya

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