Monday Musings - 30

And, so it is, a beautiful Monday, in a brand new year! I am all kinds of delirious today. Delirious from the wind that blows through rickshaws, and celebrations for friends that are leaving, and ones that are still here, and from weddings of childhood sweethearts.

There is something all too beautiful about watching true love come alive. Watching it culminate, and begin again in the promise of marriage. Our friends from Australia, R and C found each other in 1998. Their love blossomed, survived the trials and temptations of time, and ten years later, they came to India to marry.

At the ceremony, the groom's father among other things said: "There is no greater force in this world than the force of true love." It is true, true love can conquer all. Fears, and boundaries, and cultures, and everyday life, and troubles, and sadness, and what not. I am often tempted to believe otherwise, but there is something about watching the father of the bride, a couple in love, and their smiles and tears...and knowing that there is a such a thing as true love.

But, what I really want to tell you about is the brother of the bride, 24-year-old Ro. He is autistic. He and I became friends in the summer of the same year R met C, 1998. We did a lot of whatever he liked to at home in Brisbane, Australia. But, he doesn't remember.

As I watch him, across the green grass...the sprawling lawns just before the winter sea, I wonder if maybe, just maybe he remembers? And, I wonder more so, if he knows. Knows that his beloved, beautiful, affectionate sister is leaving her house, for another. Does he know his sister is getting married?

The next day, it is as if I have found my answer. A ceremony of sorts concludes...and the couple are congratulated and blessed. And, just as the announcement is made, Ro claps. Restless, pacing ..he now claps. The crowd roars.

It is as if he now knows. As the evening goes on...and my thoughts meander from the beauty of true love between the couple, and the selfless love for a handicapped child... I find Ro again. He is no longer pacing...but is now seated alone in a corner...affectionately holding on to passerby's hands. Perhaps, he does know, I realize...

And, I smile.


[Last year in Monday Musings here ]