The last time I had seen her was over a decade ago. She was my first friend at University and we had had so much in common — our ambitions, our temperaments, our idiosyncrasies; everything was similar. We had studied at the same college as well, though we moved in separate circles then, but lost in the sea of unfamiliar faces at the university we were thrilled to find each other and so became the best of friends.

So close were we that we would dread that one Sunday per week when we would be apart, but like all friends we had our set of arguments and differences. Many differences and squabbles were forgiven and forgotten but some were not. Eventually at the end of three years, by which time we had come to know each other in and out, my friend and I suddenly fell apart. If I were to put my finger on the heart of the problem today, I wouldn't be able to. Maybe the reason for our estrangement wasn't our differences but our similarities. We both stopped talking to each other; neither wanted to initiate a reconciliation.

We passed out of university and went on with our own lives. We pursued our dreams, chased our ambitions and moved on. We never once bumped into one another though she sprang to my mind whenever university life was remembered. Until that phone call from a university mate, breaking the shocking news of the air crash.

The first reaction was denial. We clamoured to find out if the news we had received was true, clutching fervently to the hope that it was false. Unfortunately, it was true. The next day, following a restless night, we went to her home to pay our last respects.

My eyes burned with memories of her. My heart ached with all those opportunities I had missed to reconcile with her. My mind created imaginary scenarios where I would have bumped into her and we would have smiled at each other and all the unpleasant memories of our juvenile differences would have vanished into thin air, becoming a thing of the past.

Sometimes life doesn't give you a second chance. And even if it does, one must have the good sense to recognise it. Differences and fights with our family members generally dissipate over a passage of time as we are bound by blood. No matter how hard we try to avoid our family members, that link brings us together; at marriages, festivals and funerals, whether we like it or not.

Unfortunately, that is not true for friends. We are not 'born' in a particular set of friends; it is not a blood tie, but a connection of the heart, a meeting of souls which holds us together. A frail, yet precious bond which will snap if we do not nurture it properly. If we let go, the bond will disintegrate. But I realised that too late; all I have now is regret and a web of 'what-if' situations haunting my mind, refusing to go away.

I have seen that it is our friends who make our everyday life special. It is a phone call or text message or quick rendezvous with a cherished friend which brings a smile to our faces and a laugh rumbling from our hearts, driving away our diurnal worries. It is a friend's listening ear which helps us unburden our souls; a friend's concerned presence which pulls us through bad patches and dismal phases.

For days, ever since, I have been re-examining my relationships. I've thought about all those people whom I've knowingly or unknowingly hurt and have to apologise to. I've become obsessed with the transient and unpredictable nature of life. Even today, when I think of her, I whisper a fervent sorry in my heart. I'm sorry, my friend! Even though it's too late.