Your cousin, Joyce, is going to visit us,” my mother called out excitedly, unable to suppress her joy. “Your aunt has just rang me up to tell this.”

How could I forget Joyce, or how could I not be happy hearing the news of her arrival? As children, we both played together so much that our parents grew anxious, wondering how we would endure our parting in the future. As Joyce’s family moved abroad, she too left and we seldom met from then on.

Now, when I was 17 and Joyce 16, she was going to visit us. I eagerly waited for her arrival. All through the night I dreamt of our time together. I got up a number of times thinking that it was already morning. Eventually, the morning sun greeted me with its golden, fascinating rays which made me feel that my day was going to be brilliant.

Abruptly, the door bell sounded, followed by bangs. As quick as lightning, I pulled open the door. Joyce was standing there, staring blankly with her ravishing eyes. Having scanned her from head to toe, I felt that she had grown more winsome. But I didn’t get a chance to talk to her as father summoned me immediately. Actually he was ill, so he wanted me to buy some medicines for him. Joyce had come for merely one day, I knew it, but I had to go because father was not well. Reluctantly and with fast strides, I bought the medicine and rushed home.

Once I was in, mother insisted that I help her in preparing some delicious dishes for Joyce. After we were done, I was ordered to clean my messy room.

Finally, after accomplishing all the tasks, I decided to shower and change as I had become rather a mess by now. Everyone started with dinner while I took my sweet time changing. With Joyce’s splendid cloths in mind, I started wondering what to wear. One by one, I tried all the clothes in my wardrobe but found nothing that I felt was suitable. As I had to choose something, I picked up the newest and the most expensive dress I had.

After freshening up, I made my way to her room. But I was dismayed to find that she had already set out for the airport. And why shouldn’t she have? After all, it was nine in the night.

‘But I have a last chance,’ I said to myself. ‘I must at least say goodbye to her.’

With this, I requested my mom to take me to the airport where I found her just about to enter the building.

“I am really sorry, Joyce,” I exclaimed, bristling with emotions to be expressed, my gaze fixed at her. “Actually, I did not realise that it had grown so late and you would be leaving so soon. Sorry.”

‘‘It’s okay,” she replied expressionlessly and did not utter a single more word. How could she be so unconcerned about our friendship? Why did she not show any warmth?

I was about to hug her when she walked inside the immigration gate and I stood there, dismayed that she went away without saying much to me.

While walking home, I realised something — although it is said that distance makes the heart grow fonder, sometimes it can wane friends’ enthusiasm for meeting each other.