FICTION:
Winning Love:
By Raghavendra Rao
Anita came to the JFK airport with her mother, Vishali. Four years had gone by since I last saw them and Anita had grown tall and beautiful. She seemed somewhat aloof and when I stepped closer to hug, she moved back.
Vishali had divorced her husband recently and suffered from severe depression. After several sessions of counseling she felt better. To erase past memories, she had started remodeling her house. Vishali needed help and requested me to come over from Singapore. Because only an extra bedroom was available at Vishali’s house, which Anita occupied, I had to stay temporarily with my cousin who lived two blocks away.
Since I knew how to drive, my generous cousin let me use his car. Daily, I picked up Anita and dropped her at Katon High School and later drove her back. Every week I took her to piano lessons and Bharatanatyam practice sessions. All along, Anita kept her distance.
One day, while returning from her dance class, I said to Anita, “I understand what you and your mom have gone through. I want you to know I am here to help you. You dance well and this will take your mind off your present troubles. As a family member, I will help as much as I can because I love you.”
Anita looked askance at me as if I were a worm. Her face turned red like the setting sun.
“Are you done with your lecture? Love me? Where were you when we absolutely needed you? After everything is over, you show up. What good is it for us now?”
“Anita, I’m the engineer handling the Ganesh temple construction in Singapore. I couldn’t come sooner. It’s impossible to drop everything and leave.”
“Then, don’t shed your crocodile tears and talk of love and all that nonsense.” She turned her face away.
A stab with a knife would have been less painful. I failed in my attempt to come closer to her. With her, I settled into humdrum clockwork of routines, namely driving her to school, dance classes and piano lessons. I liked her a lot. Her teen temper and openness fascinated me.
Days passed. Often, when Vishali cooked something nice, she invited me for dinner. Her eggplant curry was delicious.
“Another month, the remodeling will be over, and you will be here with us.” Vishali frequently apologized for asking me to stay at my cousin’s place.
By and by, Anita mellowed, and now I could talk to her for a few minutes without her getting upset. I could shake her hands and even venture a hesitant hug. Her presence made me happy.
As Arangetram, the graduation dance performance, was fast approaching, Anita started practicing at home. When I approached her home, I could hear the jingling of the bells on her anklets and the rhythmic footsteps on the wooden floor to the tunes of Thyagaraja’s classical songs. I knew a little music and I kept the rhythm for the dance playing cymbals. I didn’t know how the neighbors tolerated this cacophony.
On the day of the final dance performance, parents, relatives and the public were invited to attend and the hall was full. Anita dressed up in the typical South Indian attire and wearing glittering ornaments and jingling anklets took the stage. With intricate steps, hand gestures, facial expressions and precise body movements, Anita mesmerized the spectators. They gave her a standing ovation. The dance committee applauded her and awarded her a beautiful trophy for her commanding performance.
Anita came down and hugged her mother. Then she approached me with a bright smile. A thousand jasmines blossomed at once.
“You gave me a ride every week and whenever I needed. You encouraged me and put up with my sour temper. Without your help I could not have done this.”
She hugged me and whispered, “I love you, grandpa.”
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Raghavendra Rao is a pediatrician at Sequoia Family Medical Center in Porterville, Calif. He has authored two books and contributes articles on health to Porterville Recorder, a local newspaper.
