At about 8 in the morning my school friend calls and as I pick the phone I think 'she is probably going to ask me to come to school' without realizing what kind of a shocking news awaits me. Sindhuja is dead. It took me until I saw her face for the news to sink in. Most of us hadn't been in touch with her for the past few months. So obviously the news was a shocker to us. After I came back from her place the first thing I did was take the notebook of school memories I have and read what I had written about her. "A wonderful person and friend who should not be lost or forgotten. I can expect a selfless friendship from her. Even if I don't talk to her for months, she'll talk to me just the way she used to" (with a photo of her's stuck by the side, sorry that I dont have the camera right now, if anybody has a nice one of hers please send, and sorry for the poor picture) Sindhu, the "kovakkara kizhi" of the class. Her way of showing ...