‘Madhav, please . . . save me . . . keep me alive. I want to live,’ he whispered, his strength waning.

‘Just hold on to me,’ I said.

Slowly, we began losing our grip. I could feel his hand slipping away from mine. The chair swayed and pulled him down as the wind blew violently. It swivelled, thrusting him down towards the valley. I tried to hold on to him, but I couldn’t and Parth fell into the chasm below.

Our fingers were intertwined for a few seconds before he fell. That was the last touch we shared. I saw him falling. I saw him suspended in the air, screaming for help. I can still hear that scream. Even after all these years. It is frozen inside me. That moment, I felt as though a part of me crawled out of my body and fell into the chasm with Parth. I lost something so close to me and, in that moment, I became what I had just lost.

It felt surreal. There’s no other way to explain it. I thought I would wake up the next morning and Parth would laugh at me, maybe ask me to come play basketball. But he was gone. My heart stopped as I saw him falling. There was utter silence, the wind, the birds, the clouds, nothing moved. Everything seemed to momentarily die in that instant, including me. It was as if the entire world had ceased to be.

I looked around. It was freezing cold. I felt nothing. There was nothing left to live for. I tried to look for the slightest movement in the valley below, but saw nothing. What could I have done? Nothing! He was gone. I was young and weak. I couldn’t think of doing anything, except running away. So that’s what I did.

Had Parth died? I had no idea and the very thought of it made my insides churn. I ran as fast as I could. Was it right to run away? Maybe I should have called the guards, maybe he was still alive, maybe I would have saved him and explained what had happened, maybe he would still be here next to me on this hill, all these years later. I couldn’t accept the fact that I had lost him. I thought I would see him in the dormitory, studying as usual. But he was not there. His bed was empty. His clothes, his books and his spectacles were all lying beside it.

I was so petrified. I didn’t know what to do.

I picked up his spectacles and stared out of the window at the main gate of the campus, slowly digesting the fact that I had killed my best friend. I was flooded with regret, I was drowning in it. The regret of not saving him, of not being able to hold on to him, of not calling for help and of betraying him. It was so strong that it permanently changed something inside me.