The campfire was etched in my memory. I can still close my eyes and picture her sitting there, her eyes twinkling, watching the kids listening to my story.
I think it was Friday evening, I heard the phone ring. My Mom picked it up. I could hear her talking.
“Sam, it’s for you.”
“Hello?”
It was Jess.
“Hi. I asked your mom for a favour.”
“What is it?”
“I need help with a summer project. It involves researching local history connected to Kalimpong. And since you are planning to study history, would you be able to help me in my research?”
How could I have said no!
Barely controlling my elation, I muttered, “Sure, we can meet at the town library tomorrow.”
My mom was waiting for me in the kitchen. I could see it in her eyes, an eyebrow raised in curiosity.
“She wants my help to research local history for her summer project.”
My mom smiled, “Sam, I know that you will do a good job. Just be careful that you don’t lose yourself.”
I laughed nervously.
****
The library was in the far end of town. A very neat little place with a spacious reading room. In the afternoons, the sun would enter the room with a warm embrace.
The old wooden chairs were well worn, readers had left their initials. Faint ink marks lined the tables. I would sit and read for a couple of hours just to get away from the hustle and bustle.
She was wearing a red cardigan and looked absolutely gorgeous. I felt wave of affection for the sweetest person I had ever met. I never wanted her to go away and I surely wouldn’t introduce her to any of my friends.
“Hi, Sam.” The tinkle of her voice jolted me back from dreamland.
“Ready to dig up old stories? I have a diary here to note down anything interesting. I am looking for something that is a mystery,” she said.
Jess and I managed to borrow some old record books from the archive section. These were from the pre-Independence era. The librarian trusted me to handle it carefully and plus it was for a history project.
Both of us were eager to get started.
“I hope we can find something of interest”, she said.
“Don’t worry, Kalimpong is full of mysteries. It has been an area of great interest to the British because of the Tibet trade, later it was important during the Chinese aggression”, I replied.
“Mmmm. That sound so dry, can’t we find a more human story?” she asked.
I smiled “Yes, we can. They are all sleeping in the graveyard.”
“Sam. Don’t make jokes of the dead.”
“I’m sorry but hey that’s something we can explore later.”
The old books had a musty smell about them. It was filled with black and white photos of old Kalimpong. Figures of government departments. Rainfall data. Deployment of soldiers in the World War II. Trade figures with other countries. Hospital records. We didn’t have a clue what topic to select for discussion. It was an overload of data.
After a while, I could see her eyes beginning to droop. Soon she put her head down and was fast asleep. I didn’t have the heart to wake up. Something in the way she cradled her cheeks upon her elbows, the way hair cascaded over the wooden table. I close my eyes and I can picture the afternoon sun falling on her hair.
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My mom told me that her aunt was Jess’s maternal aunt. Jess’s mom worked for a big corporation in Kolkata and had raised Jess up single-handedly. I was intrigued. It seems that due to some reason Jess’s father had left them after Jess was born.
It was the saddest thing I had heard.
“But why Mom?”
“We were very young. It was the age of freedom, pop culture, Beatles and all. I was friendly with Ruth, Jess’s aunt and her younger sister Diana, Jess’s mom.
One summer, there was this group of young executives from a company in Kolkata. They had come to Kalimpong to collect records from the fledgling floriculture entrepreneurs with a special interest in orchids.
Diana was a rare orchid and she captivated all of these young men. The one who was smitten the most was Jess’s dad, Anil. He was a charmer, a smooth talker and how he could make us laugh. He could croon and dance. We were enchanted. Diana fell in head over heels in love with him. Soon his search for orchids ended and he proposed to Diana.
We had the wedding in the MacFarlane Church, the oldest church in town. Built by the Scottish. The wedding bells pealed all over the town. They were so happy. Anil’s parents came all the way from Lucknow, he was their only son. They too fell in love with Diana.
After a honeymoon in Nepal, they settled in Kolkata. All was well. Jess was born just before Christmas. Ruth and I went to visit them. The baby was as pretty as a rare Himalayan orchid, twinkling eyes.
But something wasn’t right. Anil was smoking a lot and talking on the phone till late night.
We came back after a week.
Then came the shocking news. Anil had disappeared. No one knew where he had gone. One fine day, he dressed for office and left. And never came back..
Diana was heartbroken. Anil had doted on the mother and child. Diana couldn’t believe he had abandoned her.
After weeks and months of police investigation, support from family and friends, we lost hope of finding Anil.
Anil’s parents supported Diana and Jess. Every holiday they would take her to Lucknow, an old historic city. Sometimes Jess came to Kalimpong with her mom. She grew up without her father.
Perhaps a sense of loss makes her interested in old places, history and the unsolved. It’s a yearning that must be deep seated in her. Please do everything to help her with her project. Maybe in the process she will find a way to understand her loss.
There is a photo of him and Jess somewhere.”
She went inside and brought out an old photo. A tall handsome man with jet black hair and a huge smile was carrying a tiny baby Jess. He was dressed smartly in a black suit and tie. His eyes had immense love and kindness.
My Mom wiped a tear “Sam, I too can never believe Anil would abandon Dina and Jess.”
It was assumed that he had been kidnapped or killed for some unknown dispute. It remains a mystery till today.
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Now the baby had all grown up. A beautiful spirited Himalayan pixie. I told myself that no matter what I would help her always. A softie I’ve always been. The Good Samaritan being my favourite fable.
As the sun slowly lost its warmth and started going down in the horizon, I let her sleep, warm in her red cardigan, lost in her dreams. Perhaps dreaming of a tall man with a huge smile and a twinkle in his eyes.
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