by Tom Corbett
“I…” Azita said but could not figure out where to go next.
“I know what you are thinking. This doddering old fool has lost his mind.”
Azita quickly protested. “No, no…my father, my biological father, would have had the same thoughts. He was also a very wise man.”
“High praise, indeed, to be compared to your own father. I am flattered but Amar has talked to me about Doctor Pamir. I doubt very much that I am as wise as he was. I simply parrot what I learned from my offspring. My eldest son is a cosmologist, at university in Canada. This sky has affected many including my children. The son now teaches the father, it is the way of things.”
They sat in silence for a while, both looking at the heavens. Then Azita suddenly turned to him. “I try to be a good Muslim girl, but I am not, I fear. I no longer feel I measure up…”
“To what?” the older man asked when she stumbled on her words.
Azita knew she had no answer, so she segued to what really was on her mind. “I must ask…do you dislike me? Are you bothered that your daughter adopted me or that she married a Westerner? I must tell you the truth, I feared meeting you. I did not know what to expect.”
“And now?”
“No fear, surely, but I still wish to hear what is in your heart.” She looked at him intently.
“My, you are a brave girl. Sometimes, that kind of question is very difficult to answer.” Then he looked back at her intently. “I am not evading what you ask, if I understand it correctly. But let me answer in my own way. You have heard of the praying mantis, have you not?”
“Of course.” She was annoyed inside, thinking he might, in fact, be doing exactly what he said he was not doing: evading her question.
“Yes, most people know that the female devours the male after mating. This is the subject of many jokes, particularly among women who rather favor the practice.” He smiled. “But it is rather a matter of evolutionary necessity. The male provides the female with rich nutrients as she initiates the process of producing the next generation. He is sacrificed so that the offspring are stronger. Think of the male penguin that marches to the sea for food and brings it back to the infant. It is an arduous journey, some die in the effort. The point is this - all is sacrificed for the next generation. Various species have evolved creative ways to create stronger offspring. In so many, males vie for the right to mate with females with the losers often sacrificing their lives. Human males also compete with one another though the losers typically suffer only a bruised ego, not much of a sacrifice when you think on it.”
Azita’s expression hung between a smile and a hint of exasperation. “I can see that but…”
“Patience, my child. The young are so impetuous.” He smiled again. “I think we humans have developed our own mechanisms for producing strong offspring. They are less biological and more cultural. Like our more primitive living creatures, nothing is more important to us than the next generation. Many species have developed amazing strategies for protecting their young. The elephants in a group will encircle a new mother and baby to give protection and security to the new offspring. I saw this as a young man. Such behaviors are imprinted within them, it is instinctive. The behavioral rules for us, however, are not built in. We look to our traditions to give us guidance. Rightly or wrongly, we look to rules that have guided us for generations. In my time, that meant arranged marriages, staying within our own tribe, if you will, and remaining chaste until one is safely married. In hindsight, perhaps some things look dated, rather ridiculous. But never forget what drives culture in the first place: survival and strength and love.”
Azita looked far away. “Your own daughter has broken these rules. I know about some of the troubles she had when she was younger. Did you reject her - me?”
“Hah,” he cried out with some passion and Azita jumped a bit. “Now we get to it. We all need to remember that, as humans, we don’t have built-in rules for doing the right thing. We are not like the animals whose mating rituals are part of their biology. The female leatherback sea turtle finds her way back to the same spot on a beach where she was hatched to lay her eggs. This occurs years after her own birth, no matter how far she has roamed. We do not enjoy the same kind of behavioral imprinting. Yet, we still have that same biological imperative - to raise our children as best we can, and according to the rules bequeathed to us. And then, often when it is far too late, we find that the rules don’t always fit. The mantis and the penguin don’t need to worry about such things. It will be as such generation after generation. We do. When Amar was away from us, we worried all the time, my wife was beside herself. She and I are in an arranged marriage. We are therefore different in many ways but still managed to love one another. But she had much trouble with Amar being out in the world. Then there was the pregnancy and the divorce, and the fetus lost in a way we never discuss. These were great challenges for any Indian family. But remember this: the pain was always there because we loved her so deeply. That never changed, not for a moment. She is my brightest jewel.”
“Sometimes,” Azita said tentatively, almost a whisper as she fought the moisture forming in her eyes, “we show our love by letting that which we love so dearly fly away, even if they fall to the ground.”
“My God, you are both very young, yet have the wisdom of an elder. You are blessed to have such an insight and yet too young to realize the pain involved.” He smiled again and Azita continued to warm to this man.
“Doctor Singh…”
“No, Vijay, please.”
“Now,” Azita laughed, “that will take some time. About me being so young. Sometimes, I feel old inside. It is as if I lived through so much as a child that I skipped that part of life when I should be young and carefree. I don’t regret much but that maybe, not being allowed a childhood, I am incomplete. Still, from my earliest memories my life was consumed with accomplishing a great goal, fighting every obstacle in my way.”
“And this goal?”
“To be my father, what he was?”
“My child,” Vijay said softly, “you can never be what he was, only what you are meant to be.”
“I am not sure I understand the difference,” Azita responded, wondering if he would be disappointed that she did not understand. Perhaps he would realize she was not so wise after all.
“No matter, you think upon it. And what is this obstacle of which you speak?”
“My world…my culture.” Azita thought no additional explanation was needed.
He looked away again as if peering into a mystery. “Yes, my earliest memories are covered in images of death and conflict. India and Pakistan were born in great strife. Our poor Mahatma tried so hard to make men see but hate is such a stubborn disease. My mother was dragged from a train carriage and beaten to death. My favorite uncle was cut down with a machete. The land flowed with blood, hundreds of thousands were killed, millions displaced. There were rivers of people winding their way in opposite directions looking for safety, for any refuge just to get out of harm’s way. I, my family at least, was part of the human flotsam flowing to God knows where, a fate that was unknowable. The fear, even the hate, stays with you for a long time.”
“So, it must have been Muslims that struck down your family members. Why wouldn’t you hate me as a Muslim girl?”
“Ach, I doubt you were old enough to wield a machete all those decades ago.” The sound and words came out in a rush and she jumped a bit. “You can be very dense for someone so smart. I am merely painting the background for you. Yes, when Amar told us about adopting you, who you were, there were some doubts. But listen to me. The more we learned about you, the more we came to know you, and the more you have found a way into our hearts. You have taught us something. No, wait, it is more like you have reminded us of something.”
“And what is that?”
“That love, decency and promise come in all kinds of packages. I sensed that when Amar described you, the joy and pride in her voice, that you were a very speci
al girl. When we finally met, I could see that for myself right away. My wife is not someone who shows emotions well. She also suffered as a girl. But we have been married sixty years, our marriage is almost as old as those twinkling stars up there.”
Azita now laughed. “You are not millions of years old. You might look it.” Then she froze. This was not Chris in front of her, nor Pamir. Had she gone too far?
The good doctor laughed heartedly. “I should spank you as I promised Amar that I would do to her, but never did. Rest assured, my dear, you are loved in this household. And now a secret that we must keep. Can you keep a secret? You must promise me that you can.”
“Yes, of course.”
“Hmmm, I will trust you. Women are not so good with secrets, but you strike me as exceptional. Here it is, I am so proud of my daughter for not backing down when we pressured her to end her studies and return home. We would have dragged her back here. Then, we put her through hell with that arranged marriage only because we could not stand for her to be alone outside our control, not after her issues. There is not a day that goes by that I do not regret my stupidity. I do love her so much.”
“So do I,” the girl whispered.
“And never forget this, my child. The world can do many things to you, some very cruel things. At the end of the day, they cannot take what is in your heart unless you permit it. Figure out where you belong and stay true to it. That is what my daughter taught me.”
Azita felt her own eyes watering, she could no longer hold the tears back. She was not sure she wanted the world to see her emotions, so she threw her arms around her elderly companion. Thank you so much Dr…Vijay, thank you.”
They heard a voice approaching them. “Azita, I think my father is too old for you. Besides, he is married to my mother who can be quite violent when crossed.”
“Ah, we were just taking about you,” Azita responded and then fell back on Chris’s trick of using humor. “Yes, your father was telling me how bad you were as a little girl, how you never listened to his wise counsel.”
“Oh, Amar,” the old man chuckled, “I think you are stuck with a mischievous one here. She will cause your hair to turn grey, much like you caused mine to turn.”
Amar smiled broadly. “Such a way to treat your favorite daughter, the girl who has always been so docile and obedient to all your wishes. Old man, I am thinking that your karma in the next life will be very bad. Yes, I am certain of it.”
“Actually, my daughter, I believe I have already suffered sufficiently in this life, my final issue was such a disappointment.”
At this, Azita burst out with a laugh. “Now, I feel I am home, with everyone insulting one another.”
Dr. Singh arose, “Hah, if that is all it took, we could have started much earlier. But I will take my leave now. I am an old man and I like to read before sleep. Even an old man like me can still learn something. Besides, I am sure you two have much to talk about.”
After Doctor Vijay Singh had made his way back toward the house, Amar sat next to her daughter. “What were you two chatting about? No doubt you were filling his head with lies about what a terrible mother I am.”
“Though I was tempted, I didn’t. No, we were simply discussing what a disappointment his daughter turned out to be.” Azita had her mischievous smile.
“You know, young lady, this is very rough terrain. I doubt they would ever find your body, that is if anyone bothered to look.”
Azita let out a small chuckle despite trying to hold it in. “And we also talked about the stars. You never told me that one of your brothers was a cosmologist.”
“I suspect you never asked. But yes, at McGill University in Canada. When we were younger, we were often here at the same time though he was quite a few years older so not as often as I would have liked. Early on, he would spend so much time out here, memorizing constellations and the names of individual heavenly bodies. Poor father wanted him to follow him into medicine, but it turned out that none of my brothers were so inclined. Sanjay, though, had real scholarly promise. The others were smart, but not quite as gifted. One studied business and is a successful entrepreneur while the other studied agriculture and manages the family’s estate. On the other hand, Sanjay spent his time out here, his gaze fixed on the heavens. I was the pest who followed father around, much to his general disgust. Unlike Pamir, who recognized and nurtured your talents early, my father was rather conservative.”
“But he did accept you, eventually.”
“Well, I wore him down.”
“Funny,” Azita mused. “You never told me about your family before. You don’t talk about them.”
“You are right. Guilt? But I do like talking about Sanjay because, I suppose, he is most like me. As he studied more, he went from memorizing the heavenly bodies to telling me what we were looking at, all the amazing mysteries that exist out there. Our universe is breathtaking. I doubt you will find many places on earth where the view is better. Just look at than canvass of stars up there. It really puts it all into perspective, at least for me. The moon will rise shortly, over there.” She pointed in a general direction. “When it gets high enough, you can see it so clearly, and the mountains and valleys because it reflects the sun’s light so. It is as if you can reach out and touch it.”
Azita had a faraway look in her eyes. “This is mesmerizing, I can see why your family escapes to this place, why the monks erected a monastery here. I remember from a philosophy course once, we read some thoughts of the great thinker Pascal. He was also struck with awe by what he saw up there, the immensity and, by comparison, his insignificance. You feel so near to God and yet…”
Amar waited but nothing more came. “I would listen to my brother and wonder at the vastness and complexity of it all. I thought I was very clever, but he would lose me as he got into the details of his world, it all seemed so fantastic.”
“What do you mean? You are almost as smart as Chris.” It was an old joke that Azita loved to play on Amar, that she might not be as smart as her husband.
“Like I said, they never would find your body. I know places.” Amar put on her fake cross look. “But seriously, he would go on about the possibilities of what all this means.” Amar’s arm swept in a wide upward arc from side to side. “At the smallest level, they do not really know if reality is composed of miniscule particles or tiny strings of energy. Think what that means. If the latter, nothing is solid, just undulating movement or potential. Did you know that there are as many atoms in one DNA molecule as there are stars in our galaxy? How are such things possible? And then he would talk about the Big Bang, that maybe it was all a fluctuation in a tiny, incredibly compact mass of this undulating energy which expands from something we could hold in our palm to all that we know lies out there. It is all beyond belief. But maybe there were many such fluctuations and therefore multiple expansions, multiple worlds - what he called the multiverse, I think? No matter, that would mean there are an untold number of parallel universes in which all kinds of realities can coexist. I would look at him cross-eyed and he would insist that the math, which even I cannot understand, of string theory leads not to one set of equations that explain all things but to untold solutions, one for each distinct universe. While the number of such equations is limitless, they are all internally consistent, and each is as internally consistent as the next. What if all that is true? What are we then, our small lives, our insignificant selves?”
Azita was looking at her intently. “But what if it turns out that we are the only universe. What if, among all the billions of galaxies and trillions of stars and millions of planets like earth that exist out there, we are the only place with intelligent life? What if that were true? And what if we cannot identify which among the billions of humans that might be born will be the special one to take us to a new level of understanding of all this mystery about us? What if, for some shortsighted and stupid reason, we end the life of this human who might save us before that individual can lead us forward? What
if everything depends on what we do right here, depends on our stewardship of this planet and our people, and our nurturing of those special lives that move destiny? Or what if that special life is not ended early but she takes the wrong path? What then? Do we get a dead universe overtaken by entropy as our ultimate destiny unless this fragile life form - we stupid and weak humans - can evolve into something that can reverse what science says is inevitable? What if it is all up to us, each of us - and we fail God?”
“Tell me this,” Amar said dreamily as she gazed to the heavens. “Do you think that there are some humans who are more advanced, who are better able to please God and lead us to a greater evolutionary destiny?”
Azita looked up at the stars for a rather long time, long enough for Amar to conclude she would not answer. Then, however, she spoke. “Yes, I think there may be some humans that see things differently and can pave the way to the future. Life is not a constant, existence really is a flowing river, and some are better at figuring out where it should go. At the same time, I cannot presume to guess who those people might be. I know from evolutionary history that we had huge dinosaurs living alongside small, insignificant shrews. You would have bet all your money on the dinosaurs being the future. But it was that silly creature scurrying around the ground and up in trees that proved to be the winner, our ancestors.”
Amar looked at Azita for some moments. Finally, she spoke. “You amaze me.”
“What?” Azita mumbled.
“Sometimes you still strike me as that little girl who scampered around after her father, and then later dogged Kay and I in the medical camp. Your eyes were always wide and curious, everything was a learning moment for you, especially the technology and methods you were seeing for the first time. You were the kid in the candy store absorbing everything that came within your reach. So excited back then, and yet so confident in what you wanted to be and do. And then I turn and look and suddenly see a woman whose grasp of many things exceeds mine. And yet, and yet…”