Keeping the faith

Keeping the Faith

“Well?” I said. “Well what?” She mocked.

“Do you think we will like each other?” I ventured. “Does it matter?” She said, trading my question with another question of her own.

It didn’t feel as strange as it should have, having this conversation with my twenty year old self. It felt quite natural, as it was meant to be. What’s that, you ask? Where were we? We could have been anywhere, but for some reason we found ourselves on the roof of the building I lived in for two years as a student in Bombay, as it was still called then. That part actually didn’t make a lot of sense as I was already twenty two by then. But this was certainly my twenty year old version sitting next to me on the roof, legs dangling, watching the brilliant stream of car lights as they moved purposefully down Marine Drive, to the sounds of the waves gently lapping against the promenade wall. The picture was a bit off-kilter really, as at that age, my fire kindled and burned between the green environs of south Delhi and the hustling, bustling north campus of Delhi university, where dreams are created and recreated. Certainly not here.

Bombay was not my first love, you know. But we’ve been though a lot together, this extraordinary city and I, ever since I arrived here, bright eyed and bushy tailed, in the monsoons of ’96. Where I took one look at the ankle deep water and with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, I called home “Dad, I can’t live here. I’m coming home.” “Nope.” He said wisely “You made a decision and you are going to stick with it”. And that, as they say was that. And thus began my reluctant love story with this contrary metropolis. But that’s a story for another time.

So I turned my attention back to my companion. She was looking at me with this quizzical look on her face. “I never thought you would get so fat.” She said, matter of factly.” “You are too skinny” I replied sharply. Oh well. Then came “You look different somehow, not what I expected.” “Oh? Other than the weight you mean?” I snapped “Still touchy!” She giggled. And with that, I burst out laughing and the air changed around us, became lighter and more relaxed. Not quite friends, yet, but not at odds either.

“So what else have you been up to along with getting fat?” She says inquiringly, not without some malice. “Learning,” I quip “I’m curious. Did you know?”. “Know what?” She asked.

“Everything. ….. That it would be a roller coaster ride and the only thing you actually control is how loud you laugh at the highs and how much weep at the lows, that time takes far more decisions for you than your head. That families are not made only by blood but by hearts, that the universe chooses them for you and that they will creep into your soul and take hold tighter than you can imagine. That anything or anyone you care about will eventually break your heart but what they teach you will be worth every heartbreak. That you have reserves of creativity and ingenuity you never thought existed and you will find them when you need them the most, and that there will be times when sheer grit will be the one quality that will keep you from going under as all else fails……”

“Ahem, Stubbornness, you mean?” She interrupts “You always were as stubborn as hell.” Yes, well, that too. “Well, Grit sounds better,” I sniff. “Language Snob” comes the retort. I whip around to stare her down but she blinks back at me innocently.

“And now that you have learnt so much,” she mocks, none too gently, “now what?”

“I have no clue. I was hoping you would tell me. Seeing as how you seem to be such a miss know-it-all.” She doesn’t reply, continuing to gaze out at the shallow waves, and the cars that roll on, oblivious to us. And yet, refusing to answer. I must be mad, I think, to be seeking answers from a version of me less than half my age. But something tells me she knows more than she is letting on.

After all, I know less now than I knew twenty years ago. I was so sure then. I knew exactly what I needed to do, to demand what was mine from this world, and then, when the time was right and I had taken what was my due, I would give back. And the world would be overcome with my generosity. Ah, the arrogance of youth.

So I keep talking to her, this strangely lovelier and younger version of me. Wiser, smarter and funnier too. Maybe in time she will let on what I am meant to do for the next twenty years. God knows that long night in November so many years ago taught me that I had things left to do. I just need a sign to tell me that I am on the right track. That the changes I made were the right ones and the paths I chose were actually leading somewhere and the lives I am responsible for are in good hands. But she does not reply. Eventually our chatter stops, and yet she has not really given me an answer. The silence stretches on and I start to get exasperated.

At long last, she turns to me and says “what would you have done if we had never met?” “I would have faith” I blurt out, the words coming from nowhere and taking me by surprise. “I would keep searching for answers, trying on my choices and seeing how they fit, and take my chances. I would trust myself.”

“Well then.” She laughs gently. “There you are”. She gets up and starts walking towards the stairs. “And by the way, you haven’t turned out too badly”, and before I can answer, she turns the corner and disappears. And her soft laugh lingers on for a few more seconds. The lights of my adopted city continue their endless journey and the sea swallows her words as I strain to hear them “Keep the Faith, girl…..”