Love Across Borders (7 page)

For some strange reason she has been
fascinated by the very thought of having Pakistani friends. And as
they say, when you want something with all your heart, the world
conspires to make it happen. When she got her first friend request
from a co-author at Indireads on Facebook, she used it as an
opportunity to peep into that other world she always considered
inaccessible. With time, she learned that there exist a set of
similar, equally compassionate and relatable people on the other
side. Being a contributor to this anthology is her first step
towards paying tribute to the common history of her nation and its
neighbor.

As a mother of two, she
believes that if her words can pave a way to how the future turns
out for children on both sides of the border, she would have
justified her creativity and education. Her blog:
www.parulandmore.blogspot.com
. Follow her on facebook/parultyagipage or
twitter/@tyagiparul

***

Love Will Find a Way
by Parul Tyagi

A few words on a piece of paper are about to
shatter Meeta’s happy little life…

Available on www.indireads.com

Best Friends Forever

NAHEED HASSAN AND SHWETA GANESH
KUMAR

Tara rubbed her smarting eyes as she stared at
the comment under the photograph. There they were, the ‘Siamese
twins’, as the teacher had called them, third row from the bottom
in the class photo posted on her old Alma Mater’s page on
Facebook.

‘18 years ago! I feel ancient!’, ‘
she
’
had commented.

‘Saira! My Saira. After so many years! I’ve
found you!’

The words thrummed loudly in Tara’s head. With
shaking fingers, she sent off a friend request to ‘Saira Ahmed’.
Tara looked at her peacefully sleeping husband and three-year-old
son, wondering whether her heart was beating loud enough to wake
them. She looked back at her screen. ‘Would Saira reply?’

***

Saira put her head in her hands. She was having
a truly bad day. It had started in the morning with her mother at
the breakfast table. Her mother had been stiff and uneasy, which
was a sure-fire giveaway that something unpleasant was afoot.

“Saira
beta
, we have to talk. Your
Tayya-ji
called. A number of people have approached him with
good proposals. It is time you think of the future.”

She had been blunt in her response.

“I hope you told him not to bother,
Ami
.
You know how I feel about him and the family. None of them did
anything for us when
Abu
died, despite knowing all about our
financial difficulties and now, when I have a good job and am doing
well, suddenly they are worried about my future.” Her tone hid none
of the bitterness she felt. “They can rot in hell for all I
care.”

She had stormed out of the house without eating
breakfast and had felt guilty ever since. Her gentle, sweet,
forgiving mother must have felt terrible all morning. And while she
hated every member of her extended family, Saira loved her mother
fiercely and only wanted the best for her. She deserved nothing
less. After
Abu’s
untimely death, she had worked night and
day to provide for them both. And Saira could never forget how
helpless they had been, how hard her mother had worked and how much
she had wanted to be able to help her.

Unable to do anything else, she had fuelled all
her energy into her studies, excelling in them and propelling
herself into the country’s best business school on a fully paid
scholarship. In her spare time, she had given tuitions to the
neighborhood kids and, by the time she was twenty, had made enough
money to buy a tiny second-hand car for the both of them.

After graduation, she had her pick of jobs and
had chosen a well-known multinational that was known to train and
develop their management staff. She had thrived in the supportive
atmosphere, had been promoted twice already and had built a name
and reputation for hard work, dedication and commitment. No one
worked as hard and as long as she did.

She opened her laptop and started it up. Her
Facebook page opened up first and, compelled by habit, she glanced
at it, intending to move onto the file she had to work on. She had
a friend request. From a Tara Menon, accompanied by a smiling
picture of a face she had once known as well as her own, and that
had not changed much despite the intervening years.

Saira sagged back in the chair as a flood of
memories washed over her. Tara, her best friend and neighbor in
Kuwait. How wonderful those days had been, when
Abu
was
still alive, when
Ami
had been a pampered housewife and she
herself had been free, with nothing to worry about and nothing to
fear.

She sat up and clicked on ‘Confirm Friend’ and
watched the status change to ‘Friends’.

She typed a quick note with fingers that flew
over the keyboard.

Tara dearest,

Can’t believe it’s you after all these
years. How are you? You look just the same. It’s like going back in
time. How are your parents? What are you doing? Write and tell me
all. Will be waiting to hear from you.

Hugs,

Saira

She hit ‘Send’ and sat up straight, a smile
playing on her lips. The day suddenly looked so much brighter
because Tara, her dear Tara, was in it.

***

“Wait, wait! I’m coming!” Tara yelled. She took
the lunch-box the maid had carefully wrapped in a plastic bag and
rushed towards the main door, where her husband and son were
waiting impatiently.

“Here,” she said, handing it over to her husband
who was looking at his watch. “
Chapati
and last night’s
chicken curry.”

She bent down and gave her son a kiss.
“
Amma
will be there at twelve-thirty, okay baby?”

“When is that?” he asked, his puckered brow
betraying his worry.

“Don’t worry. Your teacher will tell you,” she
said, ruffling his hair with affection. Raghu would drop him at his
school, before heading to work. As she saw her little one walk
away, holding on tightly to his father’s hand, her heart twisted as
it always did.

Tara shut the door and leaned against it. Time
would move slowly till noon, when she would get ready to go and
pick up her son.

She wished she could go to work. But now with
her son, it just was not the right time to start. When was it ever
the right time to start?

She had graduated with honors in English
Literature from one of the best colleges in her district and had
won a scholarship for post-graduation studies that she had aced.
She had just started on her doctoral studies when Raghav’s family
had come by with a proposal.

He was tall, good-looking and soft-spoken. Just
a science graduate, but already making his way up the ladder within
a pharmaceutical firm. She had liked him and the idea of getting
out of her small hometown to the bigger city of Kochi had appealed
to her. After all, she could always complete her doctorate after
the wedding.

‘And then I would work for two years before
starting a family… all planned out. Such grand plans. Man proposes
and God…’ Tara thought with a tinge of bitterness, as she settled
down with her laptop. She had time to browse before she headed into
the kitchen.

As was her habit, she opened up Facebook. Her
heart started beating a little faster as she noticed the little red
notification by her inbox.

She clicked on it, one too many times to get to
the message, and then read it as fast as she could. It sounded like
the same old Saira. She remembered how they had met, within the
first week of her moving to Kuwait, and how their friendship had
lasted till Tara’s family’s move back to India. Saira had come to
drop her off at the airport and they had clung together, each
promising to be best friends forever and to never forget. And she
never had—in her heart anyway. With a broad smile, she started
typing.

Dearest Saira,

I cannot believe that I’ve actually found
you after all these years. So sweet of you to say that I look the
same! That’s probably because you can’t see me from neck down.
Being a wife and a mother has certainly taken a toll! Ha ha!

My parents are fine. They are at our
ancestral home, where I lived till I got married. Achan and Amma
will be thrilled when I tell them that I found you. I stay in
Kochi, a couple of hours away, with my husband Raghav and
three-year old son, Vasudev. I’m a full-time mother.

How are Uncle and Aunty? Do pass on my
regards and love to them.
And tell me, how are you? I saw from your profile that you are
already in a very senior position at your firm! I am so proud of
you, Saira! Tell me, how do you manage work and home?

Waiting to hear from you, dearest,

Hugs and love,

Tara

***

Saira sat in her room and opened up her laptop.
The rest of her day at office had been tolerable and at home, as
expected, her mother had been subdued, but trying to act normal.
She had wanted to be cheerful, but she was tired and dinner had
been a silent affair.

Now in the safe haven of her room, she wanted to
browse the Net, relax and shoot off a couple of pending emails.

Facebook opened up again and she saw Tara’s
picture smiling brightly at her as well as the little red tab
telling her she had replied to her message. She decided to snoop
around a little before replying. Tara’s photo count stood at five
hundred and eighty. Wow! Who had that kind of time?

She opened up the photo albums. Tara was
everywhere. With her
Achan
and
Amma
at her
graduation. Surrounded by family at her wedding. Pictures of her
laughing with her husband, followed by pictures of an adorable
baby. The last post was the three of them, looking like a
picture-perfect family. All that was left was for Tara to look
glowingly pregnant with another child. Perhaps she was pregnant, a
nasty little thought came from nowhere, she certainly had put on
enough weight.

Saira brushed the unkind thought away. This was
Tara. Her best friend —and who was she kidding—her only friend. The
one she had shared everything with, including her fear that she was
dying when she had her first period at age twelve. Sweet, gentle
Tara.

But that had been years ago. And her life
couldn’t be as perfect as it looked on Facebook, could it?

She sat down to write, somehow the words coming
slowly—passing through her Facebook filter—‘don’t give too much
away, put your best foot forward and, of course, happy photos
always’.

Dear Tara,

So lovely to be back in touch. Yes, I am at
a very senior position at my firm—but have really slogged to get
here. Have also managed to make Ami comfortable in her old age, God
knows she has worked hard enough—but that hasn’t been easy
either.

Your husband looks very nice—and competent.
I am sure he is doing well and you guys look very comfortably off.
Lucky you. I never thought you would be the one of the two of us to
become Mrs. Housewife—with baby in tow. You were always the smarter
one. But things change, I guess.

Everything changed for us when Abu died.
Anyways, that’s a long story and things are much better now—thanks
to my job. I really love it. I get to travel around, always in
business class, and stay in five-star hotels and I get to boss
models and directors around as the picky client. I love it. The
challenge and the excitement. Perhaps we can meet up one of these
days when I am on a shoot somewhere. Would love to see you
again.

Saira

She clicked ‘Send’ and then closed the computer
down. Lucky Tara. Settled with a handsome husband and a baby. She
had never had to struggle or see poverty up close. And both her
parents were still with her. When they were younger, she had been
convinced that she would be the one married first, with a baby and
a family of her own, while Tara would work. She really had been the
smarter one. But life had a funny way of working out. It had all
turned upside down.

***

‘Mrs. Housewife.’

The words flickered in front of Tara’s eyes yet
again. She shook her head as if to clear it and tried to go to
sleep.

It had been two days since Saira’s reply and
Tara could not shake off the vague feeling of worthlessness that
had enveloped her.

‘Five-star hotels. Business Class. Travel.’

Tara turned to the other side restlessly. Saira
was living her dream. And she, Tara, had become somebody she had
never imagined she would turn into. What must Saira think of her?
That she didn’t even have it in her to hold a job? She probably
thought that her old friend did not amount to much in the end. She
turned restlessly. No, Saira would never think that. But even if
she did, she wasn’t entirely wrong, was she?

Tara gave up trying to sleep and sat up in bed.
It was past two. She had to wake up by six-thirty to finish making
breakfast, before she woke up Raghu and Vasu. She looked at them
sleeping peacefully.

What would Raghu think if he knew there were
days when she wished she could turn back time? If only she had told
him she wanted to complete her doctorate before getting married. If
only she had worked for a couple of years. If only she had not
gotten pregnant a few months after the wedding.

Her son murmured in his sleep, as if disturbed
by his mother’s thoughts.
Tara swallowed the usual lump the ‘if-onlys’ brought on. She curled
up next to him and sniffed the back of his neck, inhaling his
precious little boy scent. She was grateful for what she had. She
repeated the thought like a mantra to keep her regret-filled
thoughts at bay and slowly slipped away into a deep, dreamless
sleep.

The next day Tara sat down to type out her
carefully thought out reply to Saira.