The Splendor Of Silence (57 page)

Olivia had finally put her little hand in his and allowed him to settle her on his lap so that he could slant her head and gaze down into her face. He kissed her on the forehead and Olivia fell in love with him.

But he had talked so little, all of her life, about what had happened in Burma and what had happened in India.

Sam's stories have been abstract, lovely jewels by themselves, but without the luster of life, as though he cannot bear to talk of the woman he has loved so deeply that what he has considered betrayals--Mila's abandoning him at Chetak's tomb, her subsequent marriage to Jai, even her death--have taken away his power of speech. The most he says to Olivia every now and then is that she looks like her mother when she dries her long hair and spreads it out on her pillow, or when she ponders her homework, tapping her pen against the table, a frown upon her young forehead. And with this she has been fretfully content.

Olivia sits among the garden of colors from all the silk saris, muted and throbbing dully in the abated light from the stove. She has one of her mother's names, and two others, Padmini and Namera, from whom ? There are still questions that have no answers.

The monkeys crouch in front of her, the gift her father did eventually give her mother. The black cord in the box strung with gold charms was tied around her waist when she was still a baby, to ward off the evil eye. Jai tells her the significance of each of the charms and that the little gold cylinder contains a sliver of the umbilical cord that had tied her to her mother. To Mila. The box also contains that pile of this gold chain her father bought for her mother in the Lal Bazaar. Olivia rummages through the trunk until she works up a sweat, but the white sari from the White Durbar is not here. Where is it then? Still in India? Why did Jai not send i
t t
o her? She pulls her legs up to her chest and cordons them with her arms, her chin resting on her knees. Jai speaks so eloquently in this letter of a gift for her for her twenty-first birthday--and this trunk of memories, this letter of his dispelling the silence that lingered over her childhood is also his gift to her. Olivia is beset with an unreasonable anger at Sam--why did he have to die before he could open this trunk, read this letter? Would it have finally loosened his tongue?

The trunk arrived on the day Sam died, and he was on his way to her apartment to tell her of it, to take her back to his house and show it to her. And as he crossed the street he was hit by the car. So now only Jai's voice remains, clear and lucid, only Jai remains to speak of the splendor of all the silences. But there are others too . ..

Olivia rises from the floor of the cabin and goes outside into an early dawn. The rain has stopped and it has cleared the air, cleaned it and hung it out to dry, freshly scented and aromatic. Elsa throws herself down the red stairs and Olivia listens to the clatter of the dog's nails on the wood. When the sound stops, a little too soon, she shouts out, leaning over the railing, "All the way down, pooch. No pooping on the stairs." Then she hears Elsa let out a heavy sigh and hurtle down the rest of the stairs to the beach below.

The light from the sun begins to leak into the sky behind the Cascade Mountains. Although the storm is long over, clouds still tarry in the sky, seemingly thunderous and ominously dark blue, edged now with the golden glow of the morning. The sun then finally breaks out from its imprisonment behind the mountains and sends its slanting, honeyed rays out over the cove. It is cold, not bone-chillingly so, but enough that Olivia begins to shiver as she stands there, and she wonders what Rudrakot is like in the month of May. What an enervating, exhausting heat feels like. She lifts the last page of the letter and holds it up to read.

I write now, dear Olivia, because after so many years we all have
a s
udden yearning to see you. We want to know if Sam will spare you now to us--at least fora little while. You must be as old as Mila was, shortly before we lost her, and we wonder if ..
. T
dere are any similarities. Here, in Rudrakot, are your uncles, your grandfather, and even I--!feel as though I too have some claim upon you.

I'm fortunately so circumstanced that I need not talk of money o
r t
he need for it, and so I am going to suggest--in what must seem to you to be an uncouth and ungainly manner--that whenever you decide to visit us, if the airplane fare or the passage by ship is too much for Sam and you to handle, a simple word to me will suffice. I will make all the arrangements.

Do come. Please come, my dearest Olivia.

With all my sincere regard
,
Jai

Glossary

Almirah
.........
. W
ardrobe

Amchur
.........
. D
ry mango powder

Amrit
.........
. N
ectar

Anna
.........
. R
aj currency; sixteen annas in a rupee

Asuras
.........
. D
emons

Ana
.........
. W
heat flour

Ayah
.........
. S
ervant

Bawarchi
.........
. C
ook

Beedis
.........
. H
and-rolled cigarettes

Burfis
.........
. A
sweet, cut into slices

Chapattis
.........
. U
nleavened bread

Chappals
.........
. S
lippers

Charpai
.........
. J
ute-knitted bed

Choli
.........
. F
itted blouse

Chula
.........
. H
and-fashioned stove; usually of bricks and mud

Churidar
.........
. T
ight-fitted trousers

Dah
.........
. B
urmese dagger or sword

Dals
.........
. L
entils

Darri
.........
. T
ailor

Almirah
.........
. W
ardrobe

Amchur
.........
. D
ry mango powder

Amrit
.........
. N
ectar

Anna
.........
. R
aj currency; sixteen annas in a rupee

Asuras
.........
. D
emons

Ana
.........
. W
heat flour

Ayah
.........
. S
ervant

Bawarchi
.........
. C
ook

Beedis
.........
. H
and-rolled cigarettes

Burfis
.........
. A
sweet, cut into slices

Chapattis
.........
. U
nleavened bread

Chappals
.........
. S
lippers

Charpai
.........
. J
ute-knitted bed

Choli
.........
. F
itted blouse

Chula
.........
. H
and-fashioned stove; usually of bricks and mud

Churidar
.........
. T
ight-fitted trousers

Dah
.........
. B
urmese dagger or sword

Dals
.........
. L
entils

Darri
.........
. T
ailor

Dhoti
.........
. W
asherman

Dhoti
.........
. D
raped cloth; commonly worn by men (similar to veshtt)

Diwan
.........
. V
arious meanings; clerk, prime minister, secretary

Diyas
.........
. O
il lamps

Dosas
.........
. C
risp rice and lentil flour crepe

Gaddi
.........
. T
hrone

Ghagara
.........
. L
ong, pleated skirt

Ghee
.........
. C
larified butter

Ghoonghat
.........
. V
eil

Gorcis
.........
. W
hites

Hartal
.........
. S
trike

Hookah
.........
. W
ater pipe

Huioor
.........
. S
ire; form of salutation

Jalebis
.........
. A
sweet; deep-fried and soaked in sugar syru
p f
olio
.........
. S
creens

Jawan
.........
. A
rmy rank; a private soldier

Kadai
.........
. F
rying pan

Katori
.........
. C
up or bowl

KhaTana
.........
. T
reasure

Khichidi
.........
. R
ice and lentil mixture

Kheu
.........
. R
iver reed

Kolam
.........
. D
ecorative design in rice flour drawn on doorsteps

Kurta
.........
. L
ong-sleeved tunic

Lathi
.........
. H
eavy stick bound with iron

Maidan
.........
. F
ield or grounds

Mali
.........
. G
ardener

Mob
.........
. F
air

Munshi
.........
. C
lerk

Murgikhana
.........
. H
enhouse

Mysorepak
.........
. A
sweet made of chickpea flour and sugar

Naan
.........
. L
eavened bread cooked in a tandoor oven

Namaste
.........
. S
alutation accompanied by a folding of the palms together

Nautch
.........
. D
ance

Nimbupani
.........
. L
ime water

Paan
.........
. B
etel leaves

Pagalpan
.........
. M
adness

Pakoras
.........
. A
savory; deep-fried batter with vegetables

PaIlu
.........
. D
rape of sari over the shoulder

Puja
.........
. H
indu religious ritual

Punkah
.........
. F
an

Purdah
.........
. V
eil

Purnima
.........
. N
ight of the full moon

Rabadi
.........
. S
weet made of milk

Rajkumar
.........
. H
eir apparent

Sadhu
.........
. S
age; mendicant

Sambar
.........
. S
tew made of lentils and vegetables

Samosas
.........
. A
savory; deep-fried pastry stuffed with potatoes

Shamiana
.........
. A
wning