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Wonders of the World
There was a shock on her
face when she saw the message appear on her screen. She knew this was
prevalent, but never to the extent that she would be ‘invited’ into this
so-called mafia. The message was belligerent, blatantly daring, and
dangerous – White Power, we’ve got to bond. She was pretty acquainted with
the hidden self-motivated movement in the neighborhood. You could see it
glaring at your face silently, either beckoning you or traumatizing
you…and for Julianne, it could only be the former.
Amongst many that she had, she could count fingers for mixed or different
race friends, and they have always lived in harmony. There were only two
Asian friends whom she was close to, one of them she met while at college.
Life threw them together to become best of friends, and so when Seth left
for his country, he sent her an invitation to visit his land. Years took
its course, they got busy with their lives, but this time, she decided to
take a short break from her business to visit him and also ‘explore’
the eastern world which would have otherwise been an unfulfilled task
on her resolution list, which she makes diligently at the beginning of
every year, slowly becoming a little sheet of paper kept aside for a
clearer escritoire.
More than a month passed by, but it seemed like it was just a week ago
since she returned from her refreshing trip...the one that has left an
indelible mark in her life. Her D drive was nearly full with the
pictures…each had so much to say…so much to evoke whenever she paused to
reminisce those times. As the pictures downloaded slowly on her laptop,
the scenes flashed across her mind.
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Cambodia was the first place she visited. Her best friend had
always invited her there and year after year until today, she set foot in
his land. Seth and Julianne have been best friends since college days.
Though life moved on differently for them (Seth was married with a quiet
homely wife and a lovely daughter named Sue), they never let their paths
steer far away from each other. Their mutual delight was apparent from the
moment they met at the airport. Julianne, unable to contain her joy,
hugged him while he greeted her with a ‘Satu’, admonishing her that it is
not in their custom for opposite sex to have close contact, but it is
common to have the same sex holding hands or walking together arm in arm. |
With adept dexterity, he
swerved his car out of the serpentine traffic maze and within minutes,
they reached the guest house. Her room faced a tranquil sea stretching far
and wide. The palm tree a little away from her room balcony bent over to
play with the mild waves and she could hear it gurgle. The sundown was
stupendous. It was like a copper sheet spread over the sea, glimmering in
the amber lights. She remembered, in college he shared his earnest desire
of owning a moderate beach guest house and a private boat; today he has
both. Seeing the picture of the boat he owned, she began to have pensive
thoughts about them sailing away on the undisturbed waters, drifting to
another world of just them like yesteryears, talking about everything
under the sun or just sitting silently and still feeling inertly peaceful.
She flipped back the scenes in her mind of them having long walks on the
shore, exchanging their recent progressive life or sitting on the low
branch enjoying the waters rolling over their feet, laughing, giggling,
absolutely occupied with no worries.
Seth showed her around Angkor Wat, one of the world’s most
beautiful and supposedly mystical historical site. This temple
dedicated to Vishnu, the Hindu god, is considered the most supreme
architectural masterpiece during the Khmer empire. The elaborate
sculptures were so intriguingly beautiful. Multitude of pictures flowed,
each capturing the mysterious charm. Seth had also informed that though
centuries have lapsed with invasion and bloody civil war that rocked
Cambodia, Angkor Wat was affected with little damage.
The sight of sumptuous
Cambodian meal made Julianne hungry. She learnt to cook Chicken
Samla from Seth’s wife. "I guess, I’m gonna cook that tonight,"
she said, shooting a gleeful hands-on trial and scrambling for the
recipe that Seth’s wife wrote down for her. The last set of pictures
in Cambodia was halfway downloaded. They were the beaches…boasting
its natural beauty to an equally comparable group of lads sunbathing
and strutting around as if they were models for FTV. There were
also pictures of her with a few new friends that she made while
at the beach – one of them with whom she has already started correspondence.
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Myanmar (Burma) was her next trip. She enjoyed its scenic wonders,
the pagodas, and the friendly people. She had known that it is
synonymous to ‘Land of Gold’ and a visit to Bogyoke Aung San market
reiterated this name. She had pictures of traders selling gold, rubies,
jade, and many other precious stones apart from souvenirs and handicrafts.
She bought for herself a lovely jade stone and wondered if she should
carve her name on it. She learnt from her room service attendant that
there are a stunning 135 ethnic groups in Myanmar, each holding its unique
culture and language. It was surprising and fascinating to her on how
people coexisted so peacefully in its diverseness.
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Like Cambodia,
Myanmar had sacred shrines, the one she chiefly visited was the
Shwedagon Pagoda. As pictures of breathtaking pagoda collects
in the folder, Julianne adds a note to them – encased in gold and
jewels are relics of The Buddha and 3 Buddhas preceeding him. She
created another folder and named it India. While she did
so, the pages fluttered back to the moment she entered this rich,
vibrant, cultured land. It was a whole new experience for her. She
heard so much about that place from her Indian friend here, Natasha.
She was no novice to chicken tikka, biriyani, ethnic jewelry, bollywood,
and chaat. So, the moment her flight landed in New Delhi, her feet
were already pacing around. She had photos of herself indulging
in food, snacks, ethnic wear (which will always look far more elegant
on an Indian), and of course, her one and only place that brought
her here – the magnificent Taj Mahal. It was, by no doubt,
one of the most beautiful wonders the world has ever seen, and the
more she dwelled on its history or rather on the surreal love, the
more she loved that place. It consumed her. She strolled around
the Taj multiple times, trying to enliven the medieval world, where
kings fought and lived for glory, power, a! nd love. As the bus
drove past back to the hotel, she looked at the Taj one last time…it
was like a crown of gemstones beaming radiantly under the full moon
shining above it, and the miniature Taj Mahal that she bought from
there will always serve as an impressionable reminder of one of
the ‘Seven Wonders of the World’ for which she has had an opportune
visit.
Before she arrived in India, Natasha had given her the contact
number of her friend called Dhruv. When she met him she conceded
her difficulty in saying his name and she did not want to end up
addressing him atrociously, so he would have to settle for Mr. D.
He replied, "Thankfully, my name doesn’t start with a P. I
would have to put up with a lot." Her casual conversations
revealed that she was looking forward to Bollywood movies, biriyani,
kebabs, tikkas, chaats, sweet dish – everything she had heard
of, a few she tasted, and the rest she wanted to try. Dhruv told
her, "I can’t promise everything, but I will try to make your
stay a pleasant one." Indeed, she got everything she hoped
for – from the lip-smacking delicacy to movies. As she looks at
the movie ticket, she remembers not understanding much but still
liking it. After the show, they went to have chaat and some sweet
savory dish. Shortly after she
got back to the hotel, which was quite far from his residence, she
fell pathetically ill. When he came by the next day, he took her
straight to a physician and also shifted her lodging to somewhere
closer to his house because, like he assured her, he would be within
her reach if she needed him. Her time in India would never be forgotten
nor would the greatest expression of a mother’s love...it was during
this time that Dhruv’s mother often inquired of her health, advising
her on the age-old naturopathic treatment, and even sending her
some home-cooked food. There was another aspect of India that she
took along with her – as Dhruv rightly put it – we may change the
way we dress, our way of eating and living, even our pronunciations,
but values like kindness and respect, they follow us wherever we
go. The following snap caused Julianne to give a brief shrill cry.
It seemed a monolith in the middle of a dim lonely road, but she
reminded herself emphatically, "that is a buffalo…and if I
ever made that mistake of scrambling on it thinking it’s a rock…boy,
I’d be a rodeo."
From India, she went on to tour China to see ‘The Great Wall.’ She
found it quite painstaking to find her way about due to the fact that
hardly anybody spoke English, but there two girls, beginners in English,
who helped her out to the best of their ability. So, when their photos
were downloading, she remembered them, Anna and Emily, names that were
apparently given by their English teacher in school to facilitate better
recognition or rather inhibition of any self embarrassment through
inappropriate pronunciation of names.
A navy blue T-shirt that read ‘I climbed the Great Wall’ was next
to her. In a flash, she recollected herself having trodden the path. It
was an expeditious task which she and Emily undertook on an early
September morning, and when she reached a considerable height, she could
feel the cool winds wrap around her. A little later, it began to drizzle.
She smelt the fresh wet ground and took a deep inspiration as if she would
fill herself and fly away like a balloon to a higher altitude. There were
many foreigners too, a few of them accompanied by a local whom they termed
as ‘language partner,’ which means they would help out with Chinese and in
return get help in English. Julianne managed to learn a few words from
Emily and Anna, but the worthwhile lesson was the one that had no words.
Anna had planned Julianne’s weekend itinerary wherein after visiting the
Forbidden City and Fragrance Hill, they would head for Anna’s home
for the weekend. The season was just right to see Fragrance Hill. It was
more than 500 feet above sea level. Huge blocks of stones were laid as
steps. Julianne was sure that by the time she reached the top, her drained
out energy would reduce her to Thumbelina. Anna told her to focus straight
ahead and not look to the left or right until they were at the final
point. On reaching there, after a tedious trek, Julianne looked around to
witness an awesome sight she had ever come across…different shades of
leaves covering the hill like a carpet and when the gentle wind swooped
by, the leaves would flicker as if they had just been tickled. She stayed
there for a long, long time before heading towards Anna’s house.
Apart from Anna, no one in her family knew English. In the kitchen,
stood her fragile mother cooking a lavish meal. Julianne offered
to help, but Anna’s father showed her back to the living room saying
something which Anna translated. Apparently, he told her to sit
back and relax. As per her custom, guests were honored people, and
that special treatment was something Julianne would not forget.
On the wall of her room hanged a caricature carved from bamboo shoot
with intact roots. It was a mask of man ageing gracefully with his
long beard and his defiant old age hidden beneath his youthful laugh.
This was a parting gift from Emily. Julianne sniggered at the thought
of her words to a youthful Emily – "This will always remind
me of you."
Julianne wrapped up her final expedition with a short visit to Finland.
The mesmerizing Northern Lights placed her soul to a transcendental
state. Her voice mellowed, sounding poetic, "Imagine...the colors of the
sky streaming down over the frozen glassy lake and there you are…alone. It
captivates your soul, silently allures you...you feel the touch on your
skin and you close your eyes letting yourself led away blindly to a
celestial dance." The Northern Lights sprinkled on her face faintly as she
looked up and gazed at the extravagant heaven. She loved every minute
there. There was some kind of joy living in the unsophisticated world – a
world where you are complete and nothing can possibly shake that or break
that. There was a long pause. With her eyes closed and head slightly
tilted, she thought of something, bringing a complacent smile on her face.
She reflected on the stream of events wherever she had been. It was
wonderful…made more wonderful because of people.
The message blinked on her screen again. Deep in her heart, she knew
change is inevitable, but change for the better is Hope. We have to hope.
No one can make anyone see how beautiful this world is. No one can
convince anyone that it is because we look different that this world is
colorful – God is the painter, we are His designs, and He has used
different colors – us, just the way we are – to complete his canvas of
humanity. Julianne’s fingers typed confidently in reply to that message.
She sent across the web link. That same song played in the background as
well. She increased the volume of the speaker and hummed along with
John Lennon, "You may say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one;
I hope someday you will join us, and the world will live as one."
Contributing Writer :
May Young is working in the healthcare sector in quality
assurance. She has a keen interest in reading, writing, photography,
trekking, and music and believes that all of us have talent, which, when
used, can make a difference in the world, or at least, in someone's life.
Her writings are usually from personal experiences.
melodyyoung@lycos.com
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