I had first seen her sitting on a bench at the park. She was
dressed in white and had a royal air about her. The way she was sitting it
reminded one of a kind of elegance that usually comes from aristocratic ways of
life. Even from a distance it was not hard to observe that she was extremely
beautiful. She was slightly built, delicate and had a peaches and cream
complexion. She was sitting alone. It seemed that she was thinking, as if recollecting
a happy memory, all to herself and with a faint smile on her face. She looked
content and happy. Probably she arrived in the park earlier than me and had
finished her walk by the time I had arrived. I walked past her; we exchanged a
glance but not a greeting.
A morning walk for a twenty four year old boy can be really
painful. Waking up in the morning itself is a pain. If I add up the discomfort
of bumping into an acquaintance, who makes a casual enquiry about studies or
job, which comes like a random arrow aimed to hit an already low self-esteem,
causing a typical silent pain that is only known to a resident of an
overpopulated country with limited opportunities, morning walk seems like a
sojourn one should avoid at any cost. A morning walk to me is symbolic of a
stage in life when either you are tired of trying to make a beginning in life
or are retired and moving towards an end.
I went for a morning walk for a different reason though. I
did not wish to encounter my father in the morning. A situation where a son has
an average academic career, is forced to find a job opportunity in a bleak job
market, often turns a father-son relationship into a vengeful mother-in-law,
and a meek daughter-in-law relationship, where the mother-in-law is just
waiting to throw a fiery, sarcastic jibe at the very sight of daughter-in-law;
in such a situation remaining out of sight is one of the best options that one
can have, and I precisely wished to exercise that. A walk early in the morning
to a nearby park, picking up milk packets from a dairy in the neighborhood and
reaching home at a time when my father was about to leave the house was my
daily routine. I came home and pretended to read the newspaper till he left.
I saw her there, every day and got used to her smile, which
was not for me, I knew. But it was there, nonetheless. She was a smiling angel,
most of the time I saw her sitting and sometimes taking a walk. There are some
mysteries that life can unfold in a unique manner. Her smile gave me warmth and
rendered my lackluster daily routine, a purpose. I suddenly realized that the
park was beautiful; the air fresh, and morning walk was a delightful
experience. I looked forward to wake up early and reach the park when she was
still walking. Gradually, her smiles widened and I could see dimples appearing on
her cheeks, at recognizing a familiar face every morning. Initially, I walked
behind her, at some instances I crossed her murmuring a ‘sorry’, more to get a
chance to begin a conversation and less to apologize for a chance strike. A few
days later we began to walk together. She walked slowly and I matched my steps
with her. She was happy perhaps that she got a company and I was happy for no
logical reason that my mind could think of. We did not talk much.
“I couldn’t see you in the park for the last few days”, I
took quick steps to reach her as I spoke.
“I was not well. Down with fever. How have you been? She
replied.
I couldn’t tell her that I missed her. The park, the morning
breeze, the trees, the grass; nothing was the same without her.
A hiatus in the relationship makes fondness grow. After that
short break that she had taken, I had realized that meeting her in the morning
was perhaps the best thing to happen to me in an otherwise gloomy day. I was
preparing for various competitive examinations. A lot of competition does not
make you competitive, I had realized. What they had taught at my B school was rubbish.
I was becoming less and less competitive with each failure. I spent most of the
day at my study desk but knew in my heart that my performance was deteriorating
in each exam that I was taking.
‘What do you do after you go home’, she had casually asked.
‘It’s been almost a year and half since I finished my MBA and
I am looking for a job, trying to get through competitive exams but I know I never
will’, I replied.
She looked up towards the sky. For a few minutes she was
silent. Then she said, ‘I have everything that life can provide to anybody, but
I do not have a job, almost nothing to do. It is not a very comfortable
situation to be in. I try and keep myself busy, yet boredom never leaves me.
Everyone else in the family is busy. I wish I could sit and prepare with you
for some exam which gets one a job’. She laughed heartily. And I laughed with
her.
She had certain gentleness about her. Whenever she made an
enquiry about my studies, I did not feel bad to tell her that I did not feel
like studying. She sometimes gave me a gentle firing, sometimes a pat on my
shoulder, and sometimes just changed the uncomfortable topic.
I realized that I wanted to do something to be able to tell
her that I had spent my day fruitfully. I loved to see an angelic smile on her
face with deep dimples and her eyes shining up. For that smile I could do
anything.
I had to go to another city for two days to write an exam. I
had told her in the morning and she had wished me good luck. I could feel her
smile all through my train journey. A genuine smile can be felt in the heart. I
was lighthearted. There was no burden of anxiety or stress on me. The train was
leaving behind the trees and I felt a strong desire to move on into the future.
Dimples had changed everything.
I wanted to reach the park as fast as I could. I wanted to
fly and reach there. She usually arrived in the car, and walked slowly inside
the park. I was too keen to tell her that I had done the exam well. I thought
she would say, she knew it, with a twinkle in her eye. I made up the
conversation that we would have in my mind, many times. My eager eyes looked at
the park gate again and again. She did not arrive. I was worried about her. I
asked other people who were in the park every morning, if they knew why she had
not come. I was told that she was not coming for two days. She arrived in the
car. No one knew her house.
I had never asked her where she lived. I could not see her in
the park after that. I continued my morning walks hoping that one day she would
arrive. Meanwhile, I had to go again for my job interview, this time for a
week.
Six months had passed. I had not met her.
I was not willing to lose hope.
I had developed a belief and had repeated it many times in my
head that I would not get a job until I had met her. I hoped to meet her
someday. I hoped to tell her that I had got a job. I hoped to share my
happiness with her, a happiness which would come after so much of effort. I had
written some more exams, had faced two more interview panels. I had a firm
belief. The day I met her, I would get a job. Ten months had gone since I last
met her.
It was raining that morning. I could not miss my walk at the
park, so I took an umbrella and walked slowly towards the park. The rain had
washed up the street and the trees. It seemed like a new morning, somewhat different
from the rest. And it was. Her car had arrived in the park. I could recognize
her driver and walked as quickly as I could towards him.
I was in the car with driver and we were going towards the
hospital. What I could gather from what driver had told me, her condition over
a period of last few months had deteriorated. There were multiple issues. She
was severely ill and was in the ICU. She had wished to see me.
She was frail. Her eyes were closed. Her nostrils filled up
with tubes and machines all around her, when I stepped into the ICU to see her.
I felt that she a moved a little, as if to acknowledge my presence. The doctor
said that I could not talk to her.
After coming out from the ICU, for a few minutes I could not
understand what I had just watched. No ! She could not go away. My future
depended on her. I would never be able to do anything if she had gone away. I
went to a corner and cried my heart out. The hospital was full of her
relatives. I could hear a mutter. ‘She was not responding’. I still refused to
give up my hope. For ten months, I was going to the park, just to see her. Did
she know about that? She did. She had wished to see me. She had to open her
eyes and talk to me.
The doctor was walking up to the door to enter the ICU. I
observed him carefully as he walked to the door. I knew that time was running
out but suppressed the urge to check my watch. I took a deep breath and started
counting in reverse under my breath. "Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five,
four, three, two, one, months, that I had waited to tell her that I was ready
to move on in life.”
A long time must have passed. Prerit, who is Prerit? She is
asking for him, the doctor came out and said.
I bowed down and tried to look into her eyes. I could see a
twinkle there. The dimples were struggling to appear. She stretched out her
hands towards me, I bowed down further, and she took my face in her hands and
kissed my forehead. No other communication in the world could explain what we
had at that point in time, as I looked into her eyes. We did not talk.
I woke up the next day and looked for the newspaper. I was not going for a morning walk.
Obituary – “Our dearest Great Grand Mom, Grand Mom and Mom
left for the heavenly abode yesterday. She had a fulfilling life and was 88
when she passed away. She would be deeply missed by the family members.”
I looked at her photograph again and again. A toothless smile
is so angelic. This smile was going to remain with me forever.
That same afternoon, a courier guy brought my appointment
letter. Life awaited me. Finite or infinite, I had to move on.
