‘Is it true, Dad?’ Vikram strode up to his father and looked him in the eye.
Aadi looked at his son impassively. His eyes reflected the pain he saw in his son’s eyes. His son, who looked so like him, but was shorter by a good two inches from his six-foot height. At forty-five, Aadi had maintained himself well. His face was hard-boned, the high cheekbones under deep dark eyes, framed in long lashes. A long, straight nose sat above perfectly defined lips that were framed between square jaws and underlined by a dimpled chin. Little tinges of grey touched his sideburns, but the rest of his hair was black, cut short and styled to display a widow’s peak at the center of his forehead. His body was that of a twenty-something – lean and toned.
He looked his son in the eyes and nodded, dropping his gaze to the floor somewhere in front of him, before looking him in the eyes again.
‘Why, Dad?’ asked Vikram. His young, open face wanted to know the answers. Truth, however hard it was, had to be faced.
He sighed. ‘Vicky. These things happen.’
‘No, they don’t, Dad’. He ran his hands through his longer, tousled hair. ‘How could you?’
‘How could I what, Vikram?’ his father was now exasperated. ‘It’s my life. It was my life. It happened twenty something years ago. You expect me to apologize for it?’
‘I’m not talking about twenty-something years, Dad,’ he replied in a low voice. ‘I’m talking last month.’
Aadi drew in a deep breath with his eyes closed. He knew he had been evading the question. What answer does one give to a son? How does one face up to it? How does one face up to the past?
****
Four months ago.
He had been surprised to receive the email. She’d seen his profile on a social networking site and dropped him a line. It hadn’t even been a request to connect. Just an email with two words – Remember me? It was signed Varsha. He’d gone to her profile and looked at her picture. Memories came crashing in. Memories of them together, promises made, kisses stolen, words spoken and unspoken, touches and looks – he remembered it all. She’d been the one for him. His soul-mate – the one who was made for him. But promises had been broken, tears had been shed and they’d moved away from each other. A separation that had lasted a lifetime, and broken with those two words – Remember me? How could he forget?
He was the one who had walked away. He was the one who had broken the promises. He was the one that had brought tears to her eyes. He was the one that wasn’t there to wipe them away.
Her picture startled him. She looked the same, but a little different – a little older. The hair was shorter now, the long, curling black tresses gone. Her eyes still looked like they smiled, even when her lips did not. The sensuality in her face was marred by the broken nose, she’d fallen off a swing one time. The full lips were covered with pink gloss. He could make out the makeup on her oval face – the liner and mascara, the faint rouge. He remembered how she hated to wear makeup. It was one of the things he had loved about her. Now she wore makeup? A smile touched his lips. His Varsha was all grown up. She must be what, around forty-two now? She looked in her thirties!
They’d corresponded by email and soon there were phone calls. Her voice still sounded like she was smiling while she talked, it was a little deeper, a little huskier and sexier, if possible. She also had a faint tinge of an American accent in some of her phrases and the way she drawled some of her words. He was transported back to the times they’d sat together, in their own little world, planning a future together. But all their conversations now were that of familiar old friends, at first a little awkward with each other and then completely relaxed.
Then the call had come. The multinational he worked for wanted him to come out to the US for a trip. He jumped at the chance and called her.
She was startled by the pinging on her phone, deep as she had been in her work. A smile lit her face as she saw who it was. Aadi. She wondered why he was calling her so late at night – at least it was late for him, she was in the middle of a work day.
‘Hi!’ she said. Her pleasure at his call caught in his throat.
‘Hey. Am I disturbing you?’
‘No, no. Not at all. You know you can call me anytime, Aadi,’ she said.
‘Varsha, I’m coming to the US for about ten days,’ he said.
‘When?’ she sounded so excited.
‘Next month,’ she could hear his smile.
‘Oh my God! That is awesome. Where are you going to go?’ she asked.
‘Las Vegas, for the most part. Then a short stop in San Francisco,’ he replied. He asked the next question before he lost all his courage. ‘Would it be possible for you to come to either of those places? I would love to see you again.’
‘Oh, of course,’ she said. ‘I live in Atlanta, so it’s a direct flight to either of those places. Long flights, though. Listen, I’d prefer to meet up in San Francisco over a weekend. Would that be possible? I’d love to show you my favorite city.’
‘Let me get back to you on that. I haven’t made my travel plans yet.’
‘Let me know in good time, so I can book my flights and hotel, okay?’ she said.
She hung up and went to the washroom. Her eyes sparkled and she tossed her hair back over her shoulders as she washed her hands. She looked in the mirror and wondered, what would he think of her? What would he make of this woman that she had now become?
She was no longer the scared, sheltered Varsha he had known. She had grown up, and received lots of hard knocks in life. But her basic sunny nature had refused to die down. She had grown into a strong, self-assured woman. She was proud of the identity she now had – as a person. She wasn’t someone’s wife or daughter or girlfriend. She was herself, and proud of it. All her achievements had been through her own hard work and it showed in the confidence of her stance and the way she carried herself.
She looked at her hair and grinned. That was going to be one big surprise for him. Under the ceiling lights, the purple tones within the burgundy color were clearly visible in the straight hair that she wore waist length. She’d put on a little weight since then, she thought. Bra-cups had grown to a C from a B, and a size bigger, but on the whole, the daily workout regimen helped her stay in shape – from a size 6 to a curvy size 8. Not bad, considering her age, she thought. She stuck a tongue out at herself in the mirror and walked out.
***
A month later, she sat in the first class seat of a Boeing 767 as it winged across North America. She looked out through the windows, over the Grand Canyon, its gashes clearly visible on the earth below. One more hour, she thought. She breathed in deeply, her heart beats quickening at the thought of what would be at the end of that flight. They hadn’t seen each other in twenty years. What would he think of what she had become now? The essence of her hadn’t changed, but on the surface she was a different woman. As the plane descended over the Bay, she looked out at the city she loved. The glittering lights of downtown were visible, as the plane swooped out over the ocean, circled back over Oakland and finally landed on the ground.
As she walked through the hallway towards the exit, she looked around for him and couldn’t spot him. She reached for her phone and called him. ‘Where are you?’ she said.
‘Just arrived outside,’ he replied.
She walked out to the curb and stopped, her eyes immediately drawn to him despite the milling crowd around. This was something they had shared. They knew of the other’s presence before they saw each other. He looked up then from paying the cab driver, straight into her eyes. A smile curved his lips. She ran into his arms. He hugged her tight. For a moment, the years fell away. They were twenty-two and twenty-five again. She leaned back in his arms, and kissed his cheek.
‘Welcome to America, Aadi,’ she exclaimed. He looked embarrassed at this public display of affection. She caught his arm, in both of hers and said, ‘hey, that’s how we greet people here in America – with a hug and a kiss.’ She laughed at his look. ‘Come on, let’s go pick up the car’. They made their way to the train and then to the rental car area. He couldn’t stop looking at her. She checked the board for her name, and the stall number and then led the way to the car. He followed behind, pulling along her weekend bag.
‘How do you know it’s your car?’ he said. She pointed at the signage above their heads. J Rathode. Varsha Rathode. ‘Hmmm… nice car,’ he walked around the Mustang as she leaned in to hit the trunk button. He placed her bag in the trunk and then settled himself in.
‘Gimme a moment,’ she muttered, looking for the hotel’s address on the navigation system. She fed it in, and then said, ‘Okay.’ She raised an eyebrow at him, ‘seatbelt, darling. I don’t want a ticket.’
He laughed and shook his head, while belting himself in.
They hit the 101 and soon were heading towards downtown San Francisco.
‘Twenty years, Varsha,’ he said. ‘I can’t believe it’s twenty years, and now here we are, driving around in America. Unbelievable.’
She smiled, a soft smile barely lifting her lips. ‘I know,’ her focus was on the road, but she was extremely conscious of his hand near hers on the gear shift.
‘You’ve changed,’ he said.
‘Really?’
‘Yes. For one you’re taller now,’ he laughed. ‘ And I mean – there was a time when your hair used to be black and curly. When did it get purple and straight?’
She burst out laughing. ‘Aadi, that’s my hair dresser’s magic. She does wonders for me. As for the taller, I am wearing four-inch heels, so relax – I haven’t grown any taller!’ She gestured with her right hand, as she always did, while the left controlled the steering.
‘Yeah. Strangely enough, it looks good on you. I like the straight hair look.’ His hands went up to tuck some errant strands of hair flying in the breeze from her window. She felt her heart begin to pound.
She looked over at him. ‘You haven’t changed much. In fact, you haven’t even put on any weight! How do you do it?’
He laughed, ‘and you never had a cleavage!’ he said.
‘Thanks to Victoria’s Secret – I now do,’ she countered. He loved this about her. Her unabashed and totally unexpected responses to him. She loved to shock people for the sake of shocking them. To see which buttons she could push and she was doing it now with him. The casual mention of her lingerie make was enough to shock him. She was a woman now, he saw and one that he was getting attracted to all over again. It had hit him when the cab stopped and he had known that she was there. He had looked up and there she was! That connection – it was still there.
They drew up to the hotel and left the keys with the bellhop. She checked in and they went up to her room. She kicked off her four-inch heels and sighed with pleasure as she plopped onto the sofa. He sat down next to her. For the first time, he examined her face clearly. Her green eyes were tired…. Green? When did that happen? Along with the burgundy hair?
‘Your eyes are green!’ he said looking incredulously at her. She grinned again.
‘Yep. Contacts. Have to wear glasses all the time, but vanity calls, my dear. So I chose green lenses. Goes well with my red hair, eh?’ He had to agree, it did look better on her. As did the floral top she revealed once she took off her jacket. It had shoe-string straps. He never recalled her wearing such revealing clothes. Her took her hand in his and looked at it. Her nails were perfectly done with pale pink tips, to match the pale pink toes peeping out from under the blue boot-cut jeans.
This was a different woman than the picture he had in mind of her - always in salwars or sarees, dupatta or pally pinned in place, bangles halfway up her arms and long dangling earrings. Tonight she wore sparkling diamond studs in her ears. In place of the bangles was a slim, elegant watch. The other arm was bare.
He shook his head, a half-smile on his face. ‘You’ve changed so much.’
She looked at him, her hand still in his. A sad half-smile lifted one corner of her lips as she drew her hand away from his. ‘Only on the outside, Aadi. I am still the same girl you knew, inside. Life forced me to grow up and change. I’ve been on my own for the last twenty years. I had to change. I had to be able to deal with life. I had to face difficulties alone – and I had to find the strength inside me to do so. I had no one to lean on. I had to fight for every single thing I have today, and I had to do it on my own. I had to understand who I am, Aadi. I had to find me.’ Her voice cracked a little as she turned away, her head bent, the curtain of her hair hiding her face from his.
He sat there looking at her, the guilt that had been eating away inside him for twenty years, now gnawing its way in earnest through his guts. He swallowed. Reached out a hand to touch her shoulder and stopped.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘Can you ever forgive me?’
She stayed still for a second then turned around. Her green eyes were flashing with something he didn’t understand. She reached out a hand and cupped his face. ‘You know, the funny thing is, if you hadn’t done what you did, I would never have had the rich, wonderful life I ended up having! So, don’t be sorry’, she whispered. ‘You are the reason I am who I am today.’
He closed his eyes. A thousand thoughts running at full speed through his mind. All these years, he thought. ‘All these years,’ he said, ‘I’ve lived with the guilt that I’d ruined your life.’ She shook her head, her mouth opening to say something. He placed a finger on her lips. ‘I am so glad you didn’t ruin it. I am so happy that you are not bitter and angry with me,’ he said. Her eyes were looking into his, seeing the depths of sadness in them. Tears filled her eyes. ‘Do you know, once I got divorced I looked for you? Everywhere. But nobody knew where you had gone. Do you realize we don’t even have friends in common? I couldn’t find you anywhere. Then I met Mayuri, your friend. She told me you were in the US. I didn’t have any contacts here. How could I find you?’
She threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tight. His pain was in her heart. ‘Do you know that every now and then I would do an internet search for you? And I never found anything. Until that last social network site,’ she whispered.
‘My heart stopped when I got your email,’ he said, leaning back a little and looking at her face.
She smiled through her tears, ‘and mine when I saw your picture on that site. I couldn’t believe I’d finally found you.’
He leaned in close then and brushed his lips on hers. She parted her lips, the hunger of twenty years melting away in that instant. He stood up and held her hand as she stood, coming up to just under his chin. He smiled mischievously, ‘I wonder if I can still carry you?’
‘Well, I am a little heavier now, and you are older,’ she teased.
He raised an eyebrow, ‘We shall see, won’t we?’ With that, he put one arm behind her waist and one under her knee and lifted her right off her feet. She giggled like a little girl as she clung to his neck. He carried her to the bed and gently lay her down. She lay there waiting for him as he removed his shirt and slowly lowered himself onto her. His eyes searched her face, as she smiled up at him, her hands resting on his muscled shoulders. ‘Now that’, he said, brushing the hair off her face, ‘I remember very well. You haven’t changed at all’. Once more he swooped in to kiss her.
The next two days were spent like the honeymoon they never had. They went sightseeing, boating, driving up to Napa, hanging out on the beach. They spent hours just talking about everything that had happened when they parted. They spent hours catching up, greedily drinking up the short time they had together. Each was aware that this was a moment stolen in time. In forty-eight hours they would be thousands of miles away from each other. They grabbed every single memory they could make of them.
They talked about what happened with them, once they had parted. She told him of how things reminded her of him, when all she wanted to do was forget. He told her of how he'd never forgotten anything, because all he wanted to do was remember.
They relearnt why they had fallen in love with each other once again. They discovered new things about each other that made them fall in love all over again. And they made love till they were exhausted and once they were refreshed, they made love again and again and again.
He walked her down to her car in the parking lot. Her case was already in the back. He stood by as she opened the door to get in. He held her arm turning her around. For a moment they just looked at each other, and then he kissed her again, like he wanted to imprint himself on her lips. She kissed him back as hard as she could. They hugged for a moment and then she turned around and got into the car. She didn’t look back as she drove away. She couldn’t. The tears were clouding her eyes and she needed to see to drive.
A week later he’d called her. He was back in India. ‘Varsha, how are you?’
‘I’m good,’ she said. Her voice was dull. None of the sparkle that he always heard there.
‘Varsha, I have to ask you something,’ he said.
‘Go ahead.’
‘I should have asked this of you before I left. But,’ he paused. She waited; her breath was caught in her throat. ‘I know I don’t have the right to ask you this. You have built a life for yourself over there. You have everything you want over there.’
‘Not everything,’ she whispered.
He closed his eyes. Could he hope? ‘Marry me, Varsha’ he said.
She sat there with her mouth open. She looked out the window at the summer thunderstorm lashing outside. Inside her, there was a storm that was even bigger. Give up all this? Give up what I worked so hard for, for twenty years? Give up my freedom, my independence, for what? For a man who dumped me when I was twenty-two or the man who is calling out to my soul now? She swallowed hard.
‘Aadi,’ her voice was scratchy. She cleared her throat and tried again. ‘Aadi, I have to think about it’, she said as honestly as she could.
There was a long silence, and then he said, ‘I understand. But I want you to know, now that I know how to find you, I won’t let us be strangers again – no matter what your decision is. I can’t.’
She understood what he was saying. This time, he wouldn’t make the same mistake. The mistake of letting go of her.
He’d married the woman of his mother’s choice to keep her happy. He’d sacrificed twenty years of their lives for nothing. He’d gotten divorced ten years into his marriage. A bitter divorce because his wife knew that her husband never loved her. There was always the ghost of the other woman between them. Varsha thought to herself – strange – but she was the other woman, or was it his wife who was the other woman? The one who had come between two soul-mates, unknowingly though it was.
****
Aadi looked at his son. His image. A very angry eighteen-year-old image. He sighed.
‘This is the woman that my mother left us for,’ Vikram was asking him. ‘And now you want to marry her?’
Aadi looked at his son. Oh, the conviction of youth, he thought. He nodded, ‘Yes, I do.’
‘Dad, what am I going to tell my friends? What will people think of us – you marrying at this age?’
He shook his head, ‘Vikram, for twenty years I lived a life that others wanted me to live. For ten years I lived for you and Anjum and your mother. For the first time, I want to live for my sake. If people talk, let them. I hurt her years ago and now I have the chance to redeem myself – in my eyes and hers. So yes, I do want to marry her.’ He wished he had stood up with as much conviction to his mother years ago. It was too late for that. But it wasn’t too late for them. ‘It’s time to go to the airport,’ he said. ‘Are you coming?’
‘Yeah, Dad, I’ll come,’ he said reluctantly.
‘Get Anjum as well,’ Aadi said.
***
The three of them stood waiting by the arrivals gate. Vikram stood a little apart. It was then he saw her, the tall graceful lady, in jeans and a plaid shirt, her hair in a ponytail, walking out of the door. For a moment she stopped and then looked straight at his father. He looked over at his father. His father looked years younger as a smile lit up his face. She walked over to Aadi and stood in front of him. Anjum and Vikram stared at their Dad. He had never looked this happy before as he held out his arms to this woman. She stepped in close and they hugged. His Dad was telling her something, and then the two of them looked over to Akhar and Anjum.
Aadi led Varsha over to the children. He proudly introduced them to her. She shook their hands, a smile lighting up her face as she said, ‘Hi! I’ve heard so much about you.’
Vikram nodded. He couldn’t help but notice the way the two of them leaned in to each other when they spoke. .
The next morning, Varsha was awake early. Keeping the boys in mind, they had slept in different rooms. She followed her nose to the kitchen where Vikram was preparing breakfast for himself. ‘Vikram?’ she said.
‘Yes, aunty?’ he dutifully turned to face her, his face closed.
‘Can I make your breakfast for you?’ she offered.
‘It’s okay. I am almost done.’ He responded. She poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table to drink it.
He turned with the plate of food and joined her at the table. She looked at him. Eighteen, she thought. I was that old when I met Aadi. I was that old when I knew he was my soul-mate. But how to break through to an eighteen year old whose father wants to marry again?
‘So you like scrambled eggs, huh?’ she asked casually.
‘Yeah.’
‘Me too. Though I prefer mine with onions and no tomatoes.’
‘Me neither. Don’t like tomatoes.’
She giggled and he looked at her surprised. ‘Squishy and wet? Right?’
He smiled. ‘Yep’.
Just then Aadi walked in. ‘Hey. Good morning. Did you sleep well?’ he asked. She got up and poured him a cup of coffee as well.
‘Sort of. Jet lag hasn’t set in yet.’
Vikram watched them together as they chatted casually. His mother and father had never had a casual conversation that he could think of. He didn’t even know that his father had a sense of humor. They were kidding around, teasing and insulting each other, it was all so… so normal! His Dad was like a normal Dad now. The tension lines were gone from his face. He sighed. Maybe. Just maybe, this was a good thing, he thought.
Aadi waited until Vikram had left and then he said, ‘We have some phone calls to make.’
She nodded. He turned the speakerphone on and dialed a number. A few short rings later, someone answered, ‘Hello?’
‘Hello, ma?’ he said.
‘Aadi, my son. How are you? How come you’re calling so early in the day?’
‘Ma. I have something to tell you.’
‘What, son?’
‘Ma, I finally found Varsha.’ There was silence on the line, and then, ‘Really?’
‘Yes, ma. I did,’ his hand reached for hers and held it tight. ‘She’s right here with me.’
‘Hello, Aunty,’ Varsha said, her heart pounding in fear.
Another silence, then, ‘Varsha, my dear, I am so glad my son found you,’ she could hears the tears in her voice. And then she was crying in earnest. ‘I am so happy. So happy that my son can be happy at last. I am so sorry for what I put you through,’ she said.
‘No, aunty, it’s alright. It’s the past. Let it be.’
‘Aadi, don’t let her go again, son. Don’t ever let her go.’
‘I won’t, ma,’ he said huskily. He looked at Varsha’s tear filled eyes.
‘God bless you both, may he keep you both together always,’ his mother said.
*********
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This is an original work of fiction copyrighted by me (c) 2012