AN overwhelming feeling of relief and joy rushed through Arvind’s being upon seeing that she had made something of her life, free from abuse in a literal prison. She smiled warmly and shook his hand after the introduction by the home manager.
He had never seen her close up from the distance across the two houses, but now he did, and his heart warmed to her simple beauty, gentle smile, and the fact that she had become a teacher to mould young minds.
“Miss Priya Prashad has become a great asset to this school,” the home manager said to Arvind, “for her patience and dedication.”
“That’s wonderful,” Arvind expressed.
They spoke for a little while more, then he took his leave. “I will stay in touch with you,” he said to the home manager in her office, “once the project plans for repairs and refurbishing are finalised and for supplies to be sent in.”
“Thanks, Mr Mahadeo. The children’s home will be given a great boost from your charitable initiative.”
He smiled and nodded.
“I will work towards making it a success.”
He had felt so happy on seeing Priya again that every time he thought of her, as the days went by, it brought a smile to his lips. Two weeks later, he called the home manager to inform her he would be sending in some dry goods and learning supplies to the home. He had wanted to go himself, but he was tied up on a project to ensure it did not fall behind the deadline.
Two weeks later, he visited the home with a contractor to assess the necessary repairs and refurbishments to improve comfort and convenience for the children. That day, the home manager called a formal meeting with the teachers to discuss how the home could be improved.
Priya suggested remodelling the library and creating a room for art, given the talent she had seen in some of the children. There were suggestions from other teachers for new equipment for the children’s playground and some new furniture for the classrooms. At the conclusion, Arvind assured the home manager that the suggestions would be considered and addressed in a timely manner.
As everyone thanked him and left, he called for Priya.
“Miss Prashad, about the library and art room, I would need more help with the design and literary materials.”
“Sure, whatever I can do.”
He gave her his card so she could contact him with any other needs or ideas for the home, and through this, he got to talk to her a little more. He was quite cautious not to ask her anything about herself, to avoid painful memories of her past, so instead he told her about himself. He spoke of his re-immigration after fourteen years, and his dreams and ambitions.
“That’s wonderful,” she expressed.
“So, teaching is your passion?” he asked.
“Not exactly, but certain circumstances caused me to give up my ambition.”
“Oh, and what was your ambition?”
“Being a paediatrician.”
“To work with children,” he stated, “and you’re still doing that.”
“Yes,” she smiled, and it was such a sweet smile that it sent an incredible rush through his being.
As a young boy, he had felt a strange attraction towards her, and now, as a man, that feeling was still there, but stronger.
He wanted to tell her, but was not sure how. Her traumatic past might be a stumbling block in his way.
“Gotta find a way around that,” he said to himself. “She needs some joy, laughter and cheerfulness in her life.”
She lived alone in an apartment building, with just a few friends and little social life.
“Maybe she has severed ties with her family,” he surmised.
“Something that could be within her right to do.”
The work on the children’s home went along at a good pace, and three months later, after putting the final touches to a spanking-new art room, she said to Arvind with deep gratitude, “Thank you so much, the children will be so thrilled.”
“Happy to make a difference in their lives,” he said.
They had been so engaged in the project work at home that she had begun to feel at ease in his presence and to speak with less shyness and caution. So, one day whilst in the library, he cautiously asked,
“Can I invite you to the movies one day?”
She stopped arranging books on the newly designed shelves, looked at him somewhat surprised, and asked in a quiet tone, “How old are you?”
“Ah, thirty-two,” he answered, knowing where she was going with that question.
“I am forty-three,” she informed him.
“I don’t see anything wrong with that.”
“But I do, because I don’t want to be judged by society for going out with someone eleven years younger than me.”
He smiled, understanding her point, but stated firmly, “Society has no right to judge you because you are in control of your own life—and what has society ever done for you?”
She sighed and smiled wryly. “Nothing.”
In that moment, he took the chance to tell her what was in his heart.
“I like you—your simple beauty and your warm personality—so age matters not to me.”
She hesitated, not sure what to say, unaware that two teenage female students packing books had overheard their conversation, and one of them advised her, “Say yes, miss.”
“He’s a nice guy,” said the other.
“What!” Priya looked at them, taken aback by surprise, and Arvind had to laugh a little, saying, “That’s good advice.”
Priya shook her head and had to laugh a little before accepting his invitation.
He picked her up that Saturday for the movies, then took her for a drive and stopped at a roadside stand for barbecue, which was quite tasty. At home, she said to him, “It was a great evening, thank you.”
And so it began—but just a friendship, because she showed no interest in a close relationship. He knew it would take time for her to feel safe with a man again after the horrors she had lived through.
Then his mother and father came for a visit, which caused a dramatic change.
He invited Priya to dinner to introduce her, and though his mother was surprised that he liked an older woman, she said nothing, trusting that her son knew what he wanted.
As dinner progressed, Arvind’s mother, looking at Priya, declared, “I seem to know you from somewhere.”
Priya smiled and said, “Maybe.”
“So where are you from?” the old lady persisted.
“Essequibo.”
“And you have never lived anywhere else?”
Priya smiled patiently and answered, “Two places in the city.”
“Never at Le Ressouvenir?”
Arvind noticed her pause in eating and the little pale colour on her face.
“It’s where we belong,” the old lady was saying, when Arvind managed to change the conversation.
Priya was quiet on the way home, and Arvind asked after reaching her apartment, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” she managed a smile, a little “good night.”
He called her the next day, but she did not answer, nor the following day, and just when he was starting to get a little worried, a message came on his phone.
“Can I see you this evening, please?”
He went to see her, a little worry still on his mind. “Hope she’s okay.”
She was not okay, looking quite disturbed.
“Is something wrong?” he asked her.
She took a deep breath before answering, “Your mother came to the children’s home today to donate some foodstuffs, and she told me a little story.”
Arvind said nothing, just waiting with bated breath for her to continue.
“So we were old neighbours?”
“Yes.”
“And, as a young boy, you were concerned about my suffering and wanted someone to help me?”
He nodded. “I used to hear your screams late in the night, and watching you in the garden, I felt sorry for you.”
“You came back fourteen years later and were still concerned about me?”
“Yes. I had hoped that one day you could free yourself, and you stayed in my mind all those years. So when I saw you at the children’s home, it gave me an overwhelming sense of joy.”
Tears filled her eyes, spilling down her cheeks, and she said, deep emotion in her voice,
“I never thought someone cared for me, all those years to now.”
Her voice broke, and he hugged her, letting her cry. When she had regained her composure, he wiped the tears from her eyes and said, “If from fourteen years old through the years to now, I still think of you and care for you, what do you think?”
She inhaled slowly and looked at him, a soft gleam in her eyes that said she indeed believed that it was love.
“And age doesn’t matter,” he said softly against her cheek. “It’s my undeniable love for you.”