Meeting Max (28 page)

Rick remembered Elena telling him about places she’d visited before they had met. Magical names like Goa, Colva, Kerala, and Munnar sprang to his mind. He wanted to walk in Elena’s footsteps before he left India.

With determination, and his heart heavy with sorrow, he prepared for his trip, knowing Elena and Eric would be by his side in spirit. That thought comforted him.

Chapter 24

Rick waited in line at the train station near the Fort area of South Bombay to get tickets for the overnight train to Margao. From there, it would be a short auto rickshaw ride to Colva, a beach town in Goa.

The line was long. It moved slowly, which allowed his mind to wander. His heart told him to get three tickets, one for himself and the others for Eric and Elena, so they could walk the beach at Colva together and leave their footprints in the cool, wet sand at the edge of the water.

Colva had a narrow paved road that ran through the town a short distance from the Arabian Sea. On each side were restaurants, cafes, and shops that sold beachwear. Some stores sold expensive clothing and jewelry. It was a picturesque beach town, similar to coastal towns that could be found in other parts of the world.

Most of the people in Colva, except for those who lived and worked there, were on holiday. Rick heard the laughter and joy of the tourists, then thought of Elena as he looked at the jewelry and fashion shops, knowing she had looked at them too.

He walked to a stretch of beach, past the swaying palms, strolling musicians, and food stalls. The sea breeze carried the scent of the delicious food sold by the beach vendors, which hung in the air like perfume for his soul. There was nothing that would bring a meal alive like Indian spices.

He stopped at a vendor for his favorite, a hot and crispy vegetable samosa, then spied a liquor store, where he bought a bottle of gin.

Rick found a beach house where he could rest his weary bones. It was painted yellow with white trim, and it sat neatly on a small hill overlooking the Arabian Sea. He settled into his room and closed his eyes. He had a headache and his vision was blurred. He gulped a few jiggers of Bombay gin, which brought him to a dream state and an easy escape from his pain.

Even in this alcohol-induced state, his feelings pulled at him. He wanted all the people he loved to be with him, surrounded by the beauty of this quaint seaside town.

Old friends came to mind from childhood. Each flashed by in an instant, swirling in his mind. Childhood friends, their names just memories, such as Norman, Danny, Lisa, Marvin, and Peter. Their smiling faces flashed through his mind one after the other.

He reminisced about Elena and thought of them laughing together as they sat next to each other on the plane. He sighed and saw her again in agony surrounded by flames, feeling the agonizing pain of a bullet in her back. His heart ached as he went through the scenarios of how he could have saved her. He didn’t think of the possibilities then, and now she was dead. He sighed again and then pictured Eric with a belt around his neck.

If I had been with him, I could have saved him
.
If I only knew
.

***

He awoke hours later, still groggy, his eyelids half closed. He walked down a well-worn narrow path that led to the beach. It was late afternoon, almost dark. Strips of dark blue clouds sat under the setting sun. He passed the food stands and the musicians who played the catchy exotic music of India. It added levity to the beach scene and enraptured tourists, who took pictures of them.

After walking for a long time, he stopped at a food stand where an elderly woman was cooking. The air around her was filled with the tempting aroma of spicy Goan fish curry. He couldn’t resist. The curry gently streamed its spices into his mouth and he carried away the taste of coriander and turmeric.

Parasailors filled the sky with colorful parachutes, zigzagging their way until they landed on the beach, their blazing colors subdued by twilight as the sun sank into the sea, leaving only the golden glow of sunset sweeping across the sky.

Night fell. The evening stars peeked out of the sky. People on the beach slowly disappeared until he was alone in the night.

A few moments later, the sky was filled with brilliant twinkling stars, brighter than he had ever seen, and the sea was lit with a glistening pathway from the beach to the full yellow moon that hung on the horizon.

Rick stood and looked at the sky, hypnotized. Soon, he noticed another light, a different kind of light. It was quite a distance from where he stood and appeared to be a small circle of white light. At first, it seemed stationary. Then it moved. It became brighter as it came his way.

He guessed it was a lantern of sorts because the light was shimmering and swinging in an arc as it got closer. The bright white dot became larger and more noticeable as it wobbled its way toward him.

He stared at it, spellbound. He saw no one carrying it. It was just the bright white light of a lantern swinging its way across the beach in the darkness. The brashness of its white light changed to a soft, yellow glow that matched the color of the moon, which was sitting low on the sea.

Before he knew it, the shimmering yellow lantern was upon him. He looked at the face of a frail, elderly Indian man dressed in a white dhoti with black trim and a red stain running down from his chest. The man held the lantern in one hand and an irregularly shaped wooden walking stick in the other.

He looked up at Rick with red-rimmed, tired eyes.

It’s Gandhi!

“Come, come walk with me,” he said. “We will talk.”

Gandhi guided him along the yellow pathway of moonlight on the Arabian Sea, toward the full moon. Rick was silent.

“I am glad our paths have crossed,” Gandhi said.

“Yes, of course. It is a pleasure for me to be with such a great man.”

“I am an ordinary man. It is good to see someone else on this beach. I thought I was alone and now it is my good fortune to find you. I feel your sadness. Why is it?”

“I am in pain. I lost the woman I love. She was killed in a terrorist attack in Jaisalmer, and I recently lost my son, who took his life.”

“
Bhagwaan
, my dear God. Please, I am so sorry.”

The lantern floated away. He put his arms around Rick and held him close in the darkness. Rick felt the man’s bones against him. He was as frail as a bird.

“I am terribly sorry for your loss, but where there was love, there is life,” Gandhi whispered. “Keep those you love inside you and their lives will go on.”

“They are always with me, Mr. Gandhi, and always will be.”

“It is sad. The only way love punishes the living is by giving them suffering. I am sorry for your woman and your son.

“I object to violence. Even when it appears to do good, the good is only temporary. The evil it does is permanent, and as a result, your pain will be everlasting. Killing anything that is alive is wrong. First, tell me about your woman.”

“Her name was Elena. The deep love we shared is now gone and what you said is true. I am being punished through suffering. I hope that I meet her and Eric somewhere in eternity, but, for now, only the pain I feel for them is very much with me. Thank you for being here. I needed you. What do I call you, Mahatma?”

“Some call me Bapu and others Mohandas. Either is all right, and your name is Rick?”

“Yes, how did you…”

“Rick, you were fortunate to be in love with a woman and share your lives for the time you had. Love is God’s gift, and it is the law of love that rules humankind. Had violence and hate ruled us, we would have become extinct long ago. Love brings humans together in a good way, and it is what all of us need. Did you plan to be married?”

“Yes, Bapu. We wanted to be together forever.”

“A love marriage is the best kind, but arranged marriages, as we have in India, are good too. I was only eight when my bride was chosen for me, and we were married when we were thirteen. There was nothing I knew about sleeping in the same bed with a girl, and I became a father when I was sixteen.”

“I’m not sure it is good to be married so young. It is a nice night, Bapu. I have never seen the moon so beautiful, so full and yellow, like a gold coin.”

“The glimmering path on the sea that leads to the moon is a road we can take together, my son.”

“Yes, I believe that tonight we can do anything. Life has never been more magical for me. I know you are a man of deep conviction, Bapu. The world knows your politics and efforts. But I think people know you best as a spiritual person, and certainly as a religious leader. I don’t know if I believe in Him.”

“It is not a matter of
believing
, but a matter of
knowing
Him. For me, I just
know
. My belief is to always search for the truth, and for me, the truth is God. He is the indefinable mysterious power that pervades everything. I feel it, though I do not see it. It is this
unseen
power that makes itself felt, and yet, defies all proof, because it is so unlike all that I perceive through my senses. It transcends the senses.”

“Bapu, it makes me uncomfortable to say this to a man of God, but I am an atheist, and that is my truth. Am I wrong to think that?”

“You are never wrong to know what is true for you, but it amazes me sometimes when an intelligent person tries to prove something that does not exist. It is not a matter of proof. It is a matter of knowing.

“Tonight is a special time, and there is no right or wrong attached to the things you think and feel and know to be your truths. I do not judge anyone. However, there are times when you must abandon reason to find your own truth. Just as we must forsake reason in order to be fulfilled by music, the most abstract art of all. You can listen to it from a part of yourself that you never knew existed, a part that has no definition, but is there.

“There are also times when we must abandon logic. When we read a book, each sentence connects its special meaning
only
to you and to your inner self because you make a personal connection to the words.

“This gift of life from God presents us with challenges and the opportunities to search for our own truths. That search is the
reason
for our lives. But there are times when we must leave reason behind in order to live a life of fulfillment, and it certainly must be abandoned so we can fall in love.” Gandhi smiled.

“Thank you for explaining that, Bapu. I have to reconsider my beliefs and my truths. Maybe there is a different path.”

“It is not an easy task, Rick. Life does take place in the search. Perhaps we should let the future decide whether the theistic or the atheistic thought is better.

“We are talking with so much philosophy and not enough about you. The world knows about me, and you can read what I think in books, but this moment is the most important time for me, and you are the most important person.

“We have no power over the past or future, which is a good thing. It makes the time we have together in the present the most important moment for both of us. Tell me more about your present sorrows and let us talk about the woman you loved, but only if that is your wish.”

“I would feel honored, for I feel you are truly my father and you came to me in my moment of need.”

“It is in moments of need that something within us searches for another human being.”

“Yes, and I have found you, Bapu.”

“You have shared the noblest and sweetest of loves, Rick. She will always be in your heart. She lives inside you. I feel your grief, your pain, and your suffering, but you are fortunate to have been given the gift of love.”

“But we had so little time together…”

“Loving is not measured in time.”

“Elena is with me and I relive the moments we shared every day.”

“That is the way it must be for you now, my son. You remember the sweet feeling of the love you shared and the gentle touch of each other. She will always live in your present. When you listen to music, when you look at a painting or read a book, when you look out at the sea, when you are with your friends, or when you dream, she will be there. You will live with her in your heart and never be alone.”

“I didn’t want to lose her.”

“She will be there for you in her own way, my friend,” Bapu said as he placed his wrinkled, bony hand on Rick’s shoulder. “Come, let us walk farther, to the hill at the end of the beach. You must tell me about your son.”

“Yes, of course. I feel your spirituality and essence flowing into me. I do not know how to explain it. A new truth within me is emerging, different from what I have ever known. It leaps across all the truths I have ever held, and ideas I questioned before have changed, and I now have a new truth. Thank you for listening to me.”

“Listening is an act of love, my son.”

“Will you always be with me?”

“I will never be with you like
this
again, but our paths will cross in a different way. The path you are taking is the path to enlightenment. It is not an easy road, and
because
it is not easy, it is a path worth taking, and we gain fulfillment from accepting its challenge. Rick, please tell me about your son.”