Dear Kamla, soul sister, I am very grateful for your comforting words. Dear Cheeniya, There is a lot of wisdom in what you say, that being alive or dead makes no difference to the feeling of Love and , at the end of it all, feeling love is what truly matters. Cheeniya and Kamla, its not that i am living now with in some internal penitentiary, lacerating myself daily with the hope of purging the guilt. No. I do know she rests in peace, and now knows my feelings . But memories are hard to wipe off . They surface at the most unexpected moments, triggered by the most unexpected catalysts and then start gnawing like timid mice, not really making a bleeding wound, but creating an indescribable discomfort impossible to ignore.......we all know very well that it serves no purpose to follow streams of agonising thoughts that begin with " if only i had ...... " Still I cannot totally subdue the wistfuness that envelopes me when I think how beautifully different things could have been, had I taken the initiative to draw her out. Had she wanted to try out Levis and Gap, I'd have gladly shopped with her. Had she wanted to go whitewater rafting, I'd've jumped in with her.......kamla, you believe she shared with me only what she wanted to. Possible. Also, possibly, she saw something forbidding in me to withold herself. And I did nothing to introduce the real me to her. That is the core of my wistfulness......Its not even personal . More an anguish about human nature in general. Why we fail to embrace " the other" without prejudice and judgement. Why this frailty or wariness that baulks at initiating a confluence ?