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“If you listen to the wind very carefully, you’ll be able to hear from whisper my love for you.” Lachlan and told me the day he left for Bombay on job. The small Anglo-Indian community near Mysore actually we were more Kannada speaking maybe our only claim to the Queens country was our family name like Lachlan’s Robinson which we used to ridicule as the Tamil version of Robinson and my own Hayne. Lachlan of course had greater claim to authenticity since his Anglo-Indian mother had married an American.
Twenty five years since we parted ways, he to Bombay on his career and me finishing my course then came the crucial time despite everyone being fond of Lachlan when it came to marriage Alden had been the choice. There was only one way out. “Go further to get closer”
“Lachlan Robinson” I typed, I reached Lillian Robinson, Assistant Professor Illinois University. I remember Lachlan having a sister, I slowly scrolled and looked at about me—sector. Dr.Lillian Robinson-Glickman. Undergraduate Maharani’s college Mysore, Postgraduate Mansa gangotri. Okay sounded like a probable link.
“Mama, I have an extra class today” the mundane calls, there is a sense of anticipation, almost like I am back to being seventeen, and in love. Only this is a quest. A twenty-minute drive to drop my son to his class might as well be an ocean. I wanted to get back to my desktop and find that connection.
Lillian Robinson-Glickman had an NGO at Mysore to create sanitary napkins for underprivileged women that would create employment and health. I tried signing up as a volunteer, but when I did get in touch with them the response was usual,”what is the donation you can make financially?”,
” how many units can you sell outside the zone of the NGO.”
So it was back to “googlemata.”
Finally, there it was, Arnold Robinson, playing in Santana Rodriguez choir group, son of Anglo-Indian father and French Canadian mother, father ……. the palpitations increase…. somehow I felt like a fraud, like I was cheating on my family. Slowly taking the cursor on the link, I hover “To click or not to click,” I did.
Time I think is the longest distance between two places, here I was looking at Lachlan Robinson, a much married man, Has been married to Catarina for twenty-two years — two beautiful children, a son Arnold, two daughters Alina and Arya, interesting that name had always fascinated him. Finally the contact, number… not available.
“Did you try LinkedIn” Jo asked me; though she did not appreciate my quest she is kind enough to stand by me.
LinkedIn—homepage—sign up – sign in and presto messages. Like a horse with blinkers the mission was typed in and finally I had an email.
The scariest thing about distance is that you don’t know whether you are missed or forgotten so I had to have a cover. Nothing handier than volunteering for the alumni organization. So here I go
“Dear Alumni… I am XYZ…. and am in charge of the registration could you get in touch with me… telephone number ….”
‘….’ the phone rings a month after the mail.
“Good morning Dr.Haynes clinic.”… My secretary Cheryl is doing her act.
“Mam there is Mr. Robinson to talk to you.”
“Hello”
“Pat..?Patricia….”
“Yes,”
“Lachlan here”
“Lachlan who?”
That was a moment of peace, just like the car that runs smoothly and requires less energy to go faster and farther when the wheels are in perfect alignment. One performs better when your thoughts, feelings, emotions goals and values are in balance.
That moment I realized the wind had blown my words away from Lachlan when I told him I loved him. The phrase was carried in the opposite direction and landed 355 miles away in the ears of a confused farmer. He was nice though. He sent me a kind letter saying that while he was flattered, I wasn’t really his type, all the same he could help me by introducing me to his friend whose seat he was sitting on when the message reached him. Guess what I had married the farmer’s friend.
Today 25yrs later with 20yrs of marriage behind the world is I realize the distance is not between kilometres, or light years it is the ability to connect. Realizing that I am home is probably the most difficult part of this long-distance virtual hiking, I had grown outside the puzzle and piece did not fit, until I realize that I was assembling the wrong puzzle.
To truly experience those moments of joy, I had travelled far and realized the near.
Written British airways go further to get closer. http://bit.ly/1epU8Uj