Driving down the dusty roads, I had many thoughts in my head about how to go forward with this futile but needed quest of mine. I had always wondered what she would look like, would she be ravishingly beautiful or a plain Jane, would her smile still be as dazzling, would she still be as talkative and the most disturbing one, will she even let me in her house? With all these and many other thoughts, I maneuvered my not so efficient car down the road, while it struck me for the thousandth time, why in hell's name did I rent this car!
The gates were left open to the small cottage like house ahead of me. As I pulled in, I noticed that it had been almost lovingly tended to. The small flowers bloomed in the pots that were arranged in a color scheme like order, not a speck of dust could be found on the porch and as I made my way to the door, I could swear I could smell something coconutty, and this was no place for coconuts!
With sweaty hands and a pounding heart I knocked on the plain wooden door, with just the name, "Jennie Maria" engraved on it in italics. I had the wild childlike impulse to run before it opened, but before I could consider it, the door opened to reveal a middle aged woman with a blue apron around her waist, hair pulled back, and a confused but engaging smile on her face. "Yes?" she said.
Words rang in my head, "It was her smile, I was blown away."
This was Jen, the woman my father had loved, and never forgotten.
Moments ticked by in those recollections of mine. "Have you lost your way?" she asked again and that shook me out of my reverie. Giving my self a mental shake, I plastered a smile over my face.
"You're Jen?" I asked.
"Yes, do I know you?" she asked
I paused a moment, I just could not remember anything I had memorized to answer when that question was to be thrown at me.
"Umm, ma'am hi." I stuttered, "hi I...I'm Dhanish, Mr Kilol's son."
She wrinkled her eyebrows, and then I saw an odd light in her eyes before she stepped aside to let me in and said, "You better be, and in case you're not, you will only find lemonade to steal."
And she had the sense of humor too! Another thing had mentioned to me.
As I stepped in, I saw a well furnished cottage,well kept and clean. It was in a way sparse. The empty space showed a freedom to move about and yet did not leave it feeling entirely empty. She led the way to her kitchen. She indicated toward the table for me to sit, and got busy with making her lemonade again.
With her back to me she asked, "What brings you here?"
"Father talks of you too often. When he mentions love, it almost sounds synonymous to your name. In fact, he sounds the same. I just wanted to know what it is."
"So what should I take it to be? A survey on love? Or a scientific experiment?"
And the caustic tongue and sarcasm to add.
"Umm, ma'am I'm sorry if I have offended you. I have girl in my life. I love her. I want to have her with me forever. It's not perfect what we have. It is not easy being with her, but still, it's her I want. But then I look at mom and dad. And his face lights up only when your name is spoken. It's a secret between a father and son. I am blabbering ma'am, but I really don't understand what is this love that kept you two away."
I had been staring at her table cloth and making nervous patterns on it with my fingers. There came no response and so I looked up. She was coming towards me with two glasses of lemonade and a warm smile, like the one father had described to me. She placed the glass in front of me and then looked at me straight in the eye.
"Where are you staying?" she asked.
"At a local lodge"
"Local lodge? With all of papa's money?"
"There is no 7 star anywhere nearby." I replied heatedly
She gave a ringing laugh.
"Don't be mad. I'm just pulling your leg. How old are you?
"Twenty-eight"
She watched me in silence for a few moments. I wondered if she was looking for my father in me, or just lost in reverie of her days with him. The memory lived in her, that I was now sure of. 30 years could not kill it.
She sighed and looked at me with warmth, and something else. Wonder, maybe?
"Son," she said, "I am touching fifty, and call this pearls of wisdom or ruminations of an old woman but, don't you dare call it mumbo jumbo of a lonely soul. That I am not.
"Be careful what you wish for, you might just get it. Love is a tricky business. I loved your father, maybe he loved me. Nothing of this world is eternal, neither is love. It's not even consistent! You might love right now and hate the very next moment. Whatever you do, ask yourself, "Can I take this person and tolerate her for the rest of my life. All her shortcomings, in looks, behavior, everything." If the answer to that question is a yes, well you have found a person you can share your space with. If not, better leave. It is better to let go before you start hating the other."
"What happened between you two?"
"Your father never told you?"
"No. He dropped it always."
"He knows you're here?"
"No. I'm out on some trip."
"You knew where to find me then, how?"
"I went to the university where you taught. I just had to say the word."
She laughed that ringing laughter again, and fell silent, looking like she was thinking deeply.
"Look...Dhanish?" I nodded. "Dhanish." She said. "It is all about what you want most in life. I am sure your mother is beautiful. And very bright. Your father always had an eye for beauty. He wished for it, wanted to bask in it's pride. Things I never was. Still we met, fell in love, lost, and learned a lot. I'm glad he has fond memories of me, so do I.
"There will always be people you love in life, but if it hurts beyond bearing, and if you stand in way of what they want, let go. That's all that happened between us. We left before we began hating."
We both were silent for a long time, she looked into the distance, sipping her lemonade, and I looked at her, trying to picture her with my then young dad. I could see how they would have been, laughing, talking, maybe holding hands. I could think of how much courage it would have taken for them to walk away.
She turned towards me and asked, "You're the only child?"
"I have a sister, younger to me."
"I'm sure she is pampered rotten" She said with a laugh.
"Yes, she gets before she names it." I said grinning.
"He always wanted to spoil a daughter."
Silence, she goes back to thinking again.
I feel minutes tick by, but somehow, her presence there does not make things awkward in that silence. The quiet is of a companionship that has two generations together. I wish I could go back in time and see her as she was back then. Young, carefree and happy.
I get up then, she looks at me.
"I should leave."
She walks to the kitchen with my glass and hers. I see her make her way to what I think is her bedroom. She returns with an envelope. She hands it to me and says, "Nothing so personal that you can't see. If you can, give it to your father. Do give him my love and warmest wishes."
I smile and turn to leave. I walk to my car and as I turn, I see her at the door. Her eyes have life and a zest for living. She seems to have a claim on her share of happiness.
I get in the car and start the engine, and reverse my way out of her gate. As I drive to the road, I see her as a small figure in the distance, a dot of happiness on her door.
I get to my lodge and throw down my bag and water bottle. Then I tear the envelope open. It's a photograph. Of dad and Jennie.Both are smiling broadly and holding hands. She looks neither attention catchingly beautiful, nor ignorably ugly. But her smile, it surely is her sword.
I turn around the picture to find a writing:
"I will always love you."
I look at that writing for a long time
I then take out my cellphone and dial a number, it's answered after two rings.
"Hey!" says the person at the other end.
"Hi dad. I met your Jen. She is beautiful."
