Mokkapati Narasimha Shastri, 213

Of late, Raju had completely stopped showing up. I had no idea why. I wondered if he was angry with me for some reason. But I couldn’t think of anything that would have made him upset. I myself was so busy with my studies that I barely had time to breathe here, let alone go visiting. My lessons were going exceedingly well. The private tutor took a special liking to me and showed great attention, teaching me with care. There was a marked difference between his method and the way things were done back home. Every point he explained, he did so in such a way that, even with my limited grasp of the language, I could understand it easily. Realizing that I was making an effort to comprehend and retain what he taught, he was very pleased. My studies, and the progress I was making in them, gave me immense satisfaction.

One day, having nothing in particular to do, I went over to see Raju. He was just about to head out somewhere.

“Hey, what’s this? You’ve come at last! Where have you been all this time? Have you already forgotten me? Or have you found someone to help you forget?” he said, laughing.

“I haven’t had a moment to spare to go around collecting such people! My studies alone are more than enough for me. What about you? Why did you stop coming? I just came to see how you were, since I hadn’t heard from you in so long,” I replied.

He laughed and said, “Believe it or not, I was just about to set out to visit you myself. Wager as much as you like! I too had a few exams and such lately, so I couldn’t make it. Only yesterday did I finish everything. That’s why I was planning to come see you now. Well, since you’re here, let’s have a nice lunch somewhere and then wander about the town until evening. We’ll shake off our weariness and find some fresh enthusiasm. Have you been going out anywhere lately? Seen any pictures or anything?”

He asked as we stepped outside.

“Nothing at all. Haven’t gone anywhere. There’s only one thing of note that happened…”

“That’s a letter from my home,” I said.

“Oh, what’s the news? Are your mother and father keeping well?” he asked, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder.

“They’re doing well,” I began, and proceeded to narrate the entire saga of the day the letter arrived—my wife’s display of affection, the words of consolation she spoke. “My father wrote sternly, asking me to come home. I was at a loss for what to do, so I thought I’d run to you for advice. But I managed to muster some courage from what our landlady said, and I’ve already written another letter home,” I finished.

“You did the right thing. After coming all this way, enduring so much hardship, showing such courage, and spending so much money, it