The summers had always been wonderful. The beautiful clear evenings. Skies, pink, blue and all shades of sunlight red. They spent all their days reading by the window or cycling along the winding river – racing each other. Eating juicy mangoes in the shade of the old trees. Oblivious to the sands of time. Meera and Anamika.
They were a fiery pair. Always getting into mischief. They had spent their childhood in the same orphanage. Begged on the same streets. Made their way in the world together. They would have done anything for each other.
One such summer day dawned with Meera, coughing blood. Her health spiraled out of control. And life - just came to a standstill. As if trapped between the frozen hands of a clock which has run out of time. It became apparent that only a rare transplant could save her.
Anamika stayed with her all the time. Trying to ease the pain. But it was futile. She would lapse into nightmares seeing of her best friend, her sister, just withering away. She asked around for donor. It was as if, finally fate had succumbed to jealousy and had decided to tear them apart.
The next summer. Meera sat on the same window. Looked at the river outside. And the old beautiful trees. Filled up her lungs with the preciously fragrant familiar air. Tracing the path with her eyes, where she would never cycle with her friend again.
They would have done anything for each other.