Words like missiles, war, interceptions were being flung across the news. Footage of thick plumes of smoke rising through the usually clear blue Middle Eastern skies played on loop across every channel.
It made me think of all the people I had left behind in that city. My loved ones. My sister and her family. Friends. Aunts and uncles. Cousins. Exes. Old colleagues. Schoolmates.
I reached out to most of them, just to make sure they were okay. Even if we hadn't spoken in years.
That’s when I thought of her. Sameera.
She was one of my closest friends in school, all through high school. She was… not quite like the other girls in my class. For starters, she had bright fiery red.. almost orange hair. Hair that she’d painstakingly bleach and dye every other week. When she'd occasionally forget, her naturally dark hair would start showing at the roots, making her look like a weird but cute sort of badger. I’d often wondered what she looked like in her natural dark tresses.
She’d also wear piercingly bright blue contact lenses. Even when her real eyes were a lovely shade of hazel. I caught a glimpse of them on the one day she came to school in glasses. I don’t know why she put in so much effort, with the hair and the eyes. But it certainly made her stand out in our class of mostly Malayali girls.
With her milky white skin and coloured hair, teachers would often get confused at their first sight of her. “You are… Pakistani?” they’d ask often. No, she’d reply in an American accent that she’d perfected over the years. “Half Arab, half Indian”. Her dad was from Mumbai and her mom was Emirati.
Which would lead to even more puzzled looks. See, the thing is, the school we went to was a Kerala-state syllabus school. While we did have a few North Indian classmates (and a few from Pakistan), a seemingly American half-Arab fair-skinned girl learning about the history of Kerala, struggling to say names like Kerala Varma Pazhassi Raja and Anizham Thirunal Veerabaala Marthanda Varma was a rather bizarre sight to behold. The rest of us would die laughing whenever she was called upon in History class.
Oh, but watching her converse in Arabic..it was a thing of beauty. I would just stare at her open-mouthed, wondering how I had a friend who speaks a foreign language.
It had always been Nishi, Sam and I, the trio. Though Nish and I progressively bonded a lot more towards the end due to our common taste in music and clothes. But Sam.. she was an enigma.
She’d always alter her uniform salwar khameez so that it was skin-tight. She was a shapely young girl, compared to my reed-stick body. She loved English movies but her absolute, psycho-level admiration for Matt Damon was unmatched. She was the kind who would write letters to him. She used to talk to me at length about him, his movies, literally forcing me to watch Talented Mr.Ripley. She pressed the CD into my hands, making me swear that I’d guard it with my life and return it in pristine condition. She literally pounced on me the day after, demanding to know what I thought of the movie and of her precious Matt Damon. She would also make fun of my crush Josh Hartnett at the time, whom she always referred to as Saucepan face.
She was the first friend who’d talk to me openly about my growing body parts, grooming my eyebrows, shaving vs waxing, how to wax your own privates, and, of course about sex and intimacy. She had no filters at all. She’d sometimes say the most outrageous things out loud that the whole class would hear, especially Deena, who would then proceed to turn red like a turnip. I think Sam used to get a kick out of how uncomfortable Deena used to get.
She would also get very, very handsy at times. We were an all-girls school and I guess that's common. I was stupidly awkward when it came to hugging or just physical contact in general, so she’d chase me around the classroom, threatening to “feel me up”.
She was one of those beauty-with-brains types. She was always the class-topper, while I’d always come 2nd. I used to be secretly so envious.This one time, she was absent during one of the exams, which automatically pushed me to the first position that term. I know that isn’t exactly a fair win, but seeing my name up there on the noticeboard, and dragging my parents all the way just to see it.. Might have been one of the highlights of my life. All thanks to Sam.
She had no airs about being the topper. In fact, she was a very generous good student. When I didn’t understand certain topics, she’d take the time to sit and explain it to me so nicely. She’s helped me correct so many mispronounced words.
When the school arranged for all the first- and second-rank holders to go meet the President of India, APJ Abdul Kalam at the time, Sam and I were the lucky ones. To be honest, I don’t really remember much about seeing the President but I do remember how the two of us did spot a Lot of cute boys at the venue, all of whom would stop and literally stare at her. I felt pretty cool myself being friends with the hot English chick.
One thing about her - she would never ever let any of us take a picture of her. Once, we did during a class party. She made a huge fuss and would not stop until we deleted it. I never really understood why. She’d never come over to my house, even though it was literally a minute away from school. I’m not sure, but I do feel she had a troubled family life. She never spoke much about her parents, though I had caught a glimpse of her dad once - a short, dark man with a thin moustache and slightly worn clothes. Definitely not how I expected her dad to look. She was different around him. Subdued. Almost embarrassed.
I remember this conversation we had one time. I don’t know what led to it.. But she drew a bunch of concentric circles on a paper. And a dot in the middle. She said the dot was me. And each ring represented the groups of people in my life and how much space they should occupy in my heart. Friends were the outermost circle, much to my surprise, especially at a time when friends meant the world to me. Family came next, again far, far away from the core. The third circle was for boyfriend, an idea I was yet to get acquainted with. Fourth was myself. And the innermost circle… that was God. Thinking back, that was a pretty profound thing for a 16-year-old to say. I wonder what led her to this belief.
I think the last time I saw her was at the farewell party. I don’t remember. I hate that I don’t remember. It would have been so much easier to remember today, with pictures and videos documenting even the mundanest of days. I have no idea what happened to her after school ended. I moved to India soon after. I still kept in touch with Nishi, wrote letters (she once sent me a bar of Flakes inside a letter), and caught up when I’d come back during the holidays. But Sam just… vanished.
I’d looked her up.. First on Orkut, then Facebook, then Instagram and LinkedIn. But with a name like Sameera Abdullah, a million results usually pop up. And knowing her, she probably wouldn’t even have a profile picture, so there was really no way of knowing. And also knowing her, she’s probably just way too cool for social media anyway.
She crosses my mind sometimes. When I watch a Matt Damon movie, or listen to My Funny Valentine. When I spot someone with the same shade of orangish-red hair. When I come across Wellapon shampoo, a shampoo brand she swore by and convinced me to buy even though it was extravagantly expensive.
I wish I knew where she was now and what her life is like. Is she the CEO of some company? Does she live in America or the UK, married to a Matt Damon look-alike? Is her hair still orange? Her eyes still blue? Does she remember me? Does she still remember all the names of all the Kerala thamburans she had to mug up? Does she think of our time together?
It seems almost absurd that I can't digitally connect with someone in this day and age. But somehow, I feel that's exactly what Sam would have wanted.
Wherever she is, I hope she’s safe. And happy. She brought so much value to my life. And then drifted completely out of my orbit, beyond even the outermost circle.
And all I’m left with are the memories of that blue-eyed, orange-haired one-in-a-million girl.
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