Anneliese

India! The very name had spelt magic and mystic to her and finally she had decided to make her dream come true. Now as she sat at the airport waiting for her flight back home, the scenes of the past month flashed through Anneliese's mind. The first breathtaking glimpse of the Taj Mahal had held her awe stricken and spell bound. No amount of reading or watching documentaries could prepare you for the real thing, she thought. She had been unable to take her eyes off its beauty, the purity of its lines. If ever a monument of total perfection existed it had to be the Taj! She had spent almost the whole day there only leaving when pangs of hunger had overwhelmed her. 1

The pristine beaches of Goa, the soothing sound of the waves washing over her, tall palms swaying in the wind, delicious buffets eaten on the poolside to the accompaniment of the local music bands, which were surprisingly good, memories of idyllic days spent in an idyllic place! She had loved the temples too, admiring their intricate carvings and minuteness of detail. Rajasthan, the fairy tale land of palaces and maharajas had been an unforgettable experience. 2

But there had been the bad experiences, the crowds of beggars, touts and hawkers that descended on her near almost every monument had continued to frighten her. There had been taxi drivers who had cheated her. The memory of the sight of men relieving themselves by the side of the road, like it was the most natural thing to do, still burned her cheeks. The stench as she walked on the pavements had assaulted her senses and still lingered. The beggars, and the pavement dwellers and the children everywhere, poor, dirty, bedraggled, had shocked and horrified her. She had been stunned by the sheer numbers of the people everywhere, hanging out of buses and trains, walking on the side-walks. She had been astounded by the sight of wave after wave of people coming out of the local railway station. She suddenly felt weary and she couldn't wait to be home. India was not an experience she wished to prolong or repeat.3

“Hello” suddenly a voice piped up. She looked at the lady beside her, she was young and draped in a light green silk sari. “Is it your first time in India?” she asked. “Yes” Anneliese replied. The lady introduced herself as Shyamala and asked “How did you like it?” Perhaps it was her genuine interest, or show of warmth but suddenly Anneliese found herself pouring her heart out to this stranger and found her sympathetic and understanding. “India does tend to overwhelm a person, you need to take it a little bit at a time.” she said. From there the conversation had veered to other things, about their lives, their interests. The stranger had asked her questions about her country, her job, her travels and Anneliese had found her to be extremely intelligent, well read and with a good sense of humour. Her surprise knew no bounds when she discovered her new found friend was just fifteen. “This is not my normal dress” she said laughingly, “ I am normally dressed in jeans and T-shirts.  But today I had to handover my young cousin, who is traveling alone, to the airlines staff and wanted to look older, so they would take me seriously” she explained smilingly. 4

The conversation was interesting and animated and soon an hour passed unnoticed by both. “Is that the time!” Shymala exclaimed glancing at her watch. “They will be worrying at home, I should go, why don't you come along with me for dinner, as your flight isn't till late?” she said  “I live close by.” “No I couldn't “Anneliese said, but her protests had fallen on deaf ears and soon she found herself in a taxi heading for a strange home and strange people. “What will they think of me barging suddenly out of nowhere” she asked herself apprehensively. But her fears were unfounded she was soon to find out, for the rest of Shymala's family; her two sisters, brother and parents were good natured, warm and generous people and they made her welcome in their home. The dinner was delicious and the talk stimulating and it was with regret that Anneliese realized that it was almost time for her flight. Addresses were exchanged and promises to write were made. Anneliese hugged Shyamala's mother and sisters warmly. She felt a deep regret at leaving these people. Shyamala and her brother went to see her off and it was with a heavy heart that Anneliese waved goodbye to them. 5

Time passed, letters were exchanged regularly and with each letter the friendship grew a little more. Slowly through the letters Anneliese learnt about India, and learnt to understand and appreciate that complex and beautiful land. Anneliese came to care for her young Indian friend like she would for a daughter. Shyamala too returned the feelings, often asking her for advice and confiding in her and the bond between the two deepened and strengthened. 6

When she lost her husband and with him all that had been familiar and dear to her, she turned for comfort to her Indian friend and her family. The letters that arrived were full of love and sympathy and filled her with warmth and comfort. Exhausted and heartbroken with the fights with her son, over the house her husband had left her, she had given it up and moved away to a small place in a village. There too the peace she craved eluded her and suddenly she made a bold decision. She decided to go and visit her Indian friend. 7

She was apprehensive as stood at the same airport where she had waved goodbye to her friend all those years back. Doubts assailed her “What if in spite of the letters, things had changed?” She asked herself. “Shymala must be a young woman now, will she still have time for an old woman like me?” she wondered, hugging her late husband's coat a little closer for comfort. She was suddenly roused out of her reverie by the shout “Anneliese! Oh Anneliese, there you are” and she had but a moment before Shyamala hurled herself on her and enveloped her in a deep hug. Hugging her back and feeling her warmth, Anneliese felt tears in her eyes. Suddenly, all her doubts left her. “I've come home.” She thought with satisfaction.8