Window To Heaven

She woke up with the first streaks of sunlight hitting her bed. It was a beautiful morning outside, the sky a perfect tone of blue, but Serena felt an inexplicable feeling of sadness slowly descending on her. She sat hunched on the bed. What was this surge overwhelming her, screaming from deep within her insides?

She was spotting.

Oh, my God, no, not again. Was she losing this one too? With her heart full of fear, she dashed to the toilet. She tried to slather the soap on, her hands shaking so much that she couldn’t even spread the toothpaste on the brush. There was a yucky bloody trail on the floor.

Just last night Tariq had been unusually kind and loving after a long spell of blatant indifference, not just to her, but also to everything around him. The good news had just about sunk in. He was finally going to be a father. He had called his mother and confirmed the news, three weeks earlier.

“Congratulations, my son! We both are so happy for you. We are definitely more pleased that it is a little boy!” said Mom. Of course, they were all ecstatic.

What would Serena not do to please that virago? Okay. That was too strong a name for her mother-in-law. She bit her lip. Their greatest compounded joy was… it was a boy!

What is it with ‘boys’ and Asian moms?

Serena could write a thesis on this touchy topic.

Truth hits you like a sledge hammer. The ultimate happiness for every man or woman for which they eke out his or her complicated web, finds its nirvana in this truth - his ability to procreate. To pass the sweets around in the office. To be a little Mr. Godman (or woman). To prove his manhood, and her womanhood, if that were of any consequence.

Oh dash it. The floor was bloody. She called her husband for help. Tariq rushed to get the car keys. Serena couldn’t decide if it was disappointment she saw on his face, sheer frustration, or a kind of seething mad fury?

What woman can’t hold her baby? She couldn’t see clearly. Her hot tears were burning her eyes.

Serena returned to work the next week after the cleanup. Her young body healed really quick and she was back to the routine of flying on the shorter routes. Juliet, her girlfriend, tried to console Serena.

“Hey hon, no big deal. You and Tariq are still so young and fertile. You can have many more strappin’ handsome kids anytime, don’t you worry, sweet pea.”

Whatever did Juliet know about Asian pressures of having a male child? With this latest fiasco, Serena had miscarried for the 3rd time. For Juliet, even a puppy would hold just as good.

Juliet was a really good friend but Serena couldn’t understand her lackadaisical attitude. She was going steady with her third, or maybe the fourth, boyfriend, giving no thought to the covenant of marriage or even thinking about a child.

‘Scandalous’ would be the verdict if Serena dared report it back home to her folks that this ‘floozy’ was her closest buddy. Juliet was nearing 38, not a mean age for child bearing and she had never considered settling down to being mother and wife. In Serena’s mind, this was unthinkable, and a kind of social mismanagement of one’s life’s purposes.

How can continents be so different in thinking?

Juliet had no one to pressure her. Life seemed a blast for her. Friday mornings spent at the pool. On Saturday mornings, they would just take off, to the mountains on their Yamaha bikes. They hardly ever cooked at home. Just microwaved canned soup or simple spaghetti would satisfy Jim. He was the gentlest and most understanding man you could find.

Why of course! They weren’t married!

For Serena, it was a whole different ball game. Tariq liked to have freshly cooked meals, which included dal, a spicy lentil preparation, two different greens, and homemade pickles. Store-bought ones had way too much salt. It took her a lot of time to look airline-pretty after all this stinky cooking. She was afraid her nails and her body constantly smelt of garlic and cumin.

The only passing consolation she felt right now was that she looked a lot more attractive than Juliet. Clean habits, and healthy vegetable eating took her to a new level of confidence, and Serena was fully aware of this. Her crisp, convent-styled spoken English, glowing complexion and pretty face had got her the job. Serena was so enjoying her job, that is, until now. The pay packet was fantastic. Whoever thought that this shy, reserved girl from the faraway city of Bangalore, in India, would be frequenting beauty salons, buying designer wear, walking from one international airport to another, criss-crossing the world, with her vanity? Her family was educated and classy, but not overly rich.

And then she met her handsome sweetheart from the neighboring country. Truly, theirs was a beautiful story of love that crossed borders. The stuff that movies were made of these days. Tariq’s parents were all right in the beginning. But ten years on, things had changed now, with no baby in sight.

Another day had crept by and on her way out after office hours, Serena passed by Juliet’s cubicle. Such a dear friend!

Serena was grateful for her goodness shown to her these past dreadful weeks. Juliet had visited her with food and sat by her bedside when she could snatch some time. She knew friends like these are difficult to find in a big city. The memory of these visits recalled the sheer horror of last week’s nightmare. Hospital and a dead foetus. The very thought of her dead baby brought tears on again.

Some soft music was playing from Juliet’s cd player. She was nowhere in the room. Had she gone to get some coffee? Some words came on rather loud. What was that song again? …

‘O the pain of searing loss’…..

Those were her very feelings. This song was about her. She had felt the pain of searing loss. Serena stopped in her tracks.

The words said something about a Father’s love being so deep.

She almost choked.

What about a mother’s love? Isn’t that deep, or what? She was the mother who had carried the baby; felt the hormonal changes, felt nauseous, went off chicken completely.

Serena knew one thing about Juliet. In spite of all her waywardness, she was totally at peace with the world. She didn’t wear her faith on her sleeve or proclaim it on her forehead or neck, or anything like that.

Hold it right there, Serena!

The math isn’t working quite right here.

Here is the street wise Juliet, the good time girl-woman, a floozy, in the eyes of any orthodox, prayer-chanting, bead-counting, walker of the straight-n-narrow.

And there on the other side is Serena, diligently and sacredly keeping all the rules, never daring to break any law, written and unwritten. Yet sadly, it was Serena, who was unhappy, miserable, unloved, and suffering this incredible loss.

Standing by the large window, she remembered with a mocking grin, Juliet once telling her how she would lift her eyes to the vast expanse of sky and meditate whenever she felt disheartened.

And not just when she had her bad days but everyday!

Juliet had told her that in her busy work schedule, just five minutes of ‘quiet time’ gave her a great shot of contentment! Like an energy boost for the day!

Serena sighed! In this day and age, whoever thought a modern day Jane from big city, London, would indulge in this? Believe in some far-off God? Or a divine force? Whatever next?

It was well past office hours. No one was around. She dreaded the thought of facing a sullen Tariq that evening.

Serena thought to herself why not give it a shot at this same window?

Maybe today is the day she could copy Juliet’s kind of meditation. This would be the best time to practice this little exercise. If Juliet were kind enough to share this rather embarrassing, bordering on ‘crazy’ bit of advice with her, and Juliet, was NOT from the third world, Serena could most surely try it out.

What she needed now was a massive dose of peace of mind, a good night’s undisturbed rest, the kind that Juliet seemed to have an abundance of.

Serena held on to the bar of the window. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and turned her head upward to the sky. A whole two minutes passed. It wasn’t working.

No stillness yet, how can it be with an overactive brain, whirring within?

She opened her eyes slowly. Now that felt much better.

Serena could see the evening sky and the orange rays of the setting sun faraway on the corniche. The horizon was stunning. She took another deep breath and her eyes now focusing at a far away constellation. Suddenly, some wandering straggler clouds took on some strange, bizarre shape.

Hold on, they were some letters she could read. A name. Yes. For certain, yes.

What is that writing on the face of the sky? Was it her imagination running riot or was she really seeing the clouds form into some very readable letters?

Was God talking to her? He actually knew her?

Serena’s face broke out into some unspeakable joy beyond understanding.

Clearly they were letters on the face of the sky. ‘REDEEMER KING’ written bold and large.

The clouds had stopped moving, as if frozen in time.

Serena knew very well she wasn’t hallucinating. Her faculties were clear. Her vision perfect. She felt a sudden surge of happiness like she had never known before. This was the source of Juliet’s peace of mind- It was right there. In Heaven.

How wrongly she had judged her friend. Juliet had taught her something that no one else had all these years. Juliet, dear Juliet, whom she had labelled floozy, many times, in her mind.

She took another deep breath and leaned out of the window to see the white clouds passing off. Now they looked like a giant white horse and a mighty big schooner drifting off into the dark blue sea.

Joy restored.

Peace installed.

Hope renewed.

It was time to go home. Serena drove straight to the newly opened bakery down the road. She had to get his favorite dessert. She couldn’t help smiling as she recalled the image she saw that evening in the sky. She wanted to phone Juliet right away but she was on a long haul flight. And she could meet her only the following Tuesday. Quickly paying up at the counter, she dashed to her car.

Serena felt as frisky as a lamb, love bursting within her, red as a rose, driving home that night.

Tariq was waiting for her, his face behind the newspaper. She opened the box, and taking out some rich red velvet cake with cream cheese icing, which she had bought for him, she put some in his mouth as she nestled close to him.