PASSING THROUGH THE WOODS

Manu was walking through the woods.

Over the rocks

Across the creeks

She was scurrying through in a hurry.

It was getting dark.

"Forgiveness seminar!" her neighbor said.

"Forgiveness?"

How does that work?

Let's see! How did it work for me?

When was the first time?

Ouch! Manu brushed away the bee off her shoulder.

and continued tiptoeing on the rocky road.

Yes. I think I was twelve years old, she told herself.

It was the boy next door and his friends.

Won't let her play with them. Why?

Because she won't give them her candy.

Then you are not our friend, they said.

That's not fair, Manu said.

You never gave me your candy, she argued.

But they were big boys. They wouldn't let her play.

It didn't make sense. Why should she share when they wouldn’t?

She walked away. Next day it was all forgotten.

Was that forgiveness? Whatever it is, it worked.

She walked away and it worked.

She quickly crushed another bug on her shoulder.

She hastened her steps.

She wants to get through the woods before dark. It is past four.

The sun's rays are losing their edge.

Manu is walking, brushing away a swarm of bees that are buzzing around her. The are adamant. They are getting to her.

She won't let them. She is determined. I can't let these bees hurt me. They have no right to sting me.

A little smile spread on her lips. What do the bees know about Rights?

What do they care? That they might lose a friend? That they would be charged with misdemeanor? Ouch. Manu grit her teeth.

Walking and looking around for the mean bees.

Again, When was the next time I was stung?

Yes. When I called my friend in Milwaukee. I told her how I was hurt. My pride was hurt. I was humiliated.

I was looking for answers. Why people act the way they do? Why people hurt each other?

Six months later,

Another friend asked me, "I heard... Is that true?"

"How did you know?"

"Your friend in Milwaukee told someone in New Jersey. She told someone

in Texas. And she asked me if that were true," said Manu's friend in Florida!

Manu poured her heart out to a dear friend. And that friend turned Manu’s distress into a gossip column!

A bee stung again. Manu is getting used to these stings.

The second, the third, the fourth were not as bad as the first!

Was it Shaw that said in one of his plays? Which one- Major Barbara?

The wait for the second is worse than the first sting. That is what it is like now. Waiting for the next sting. The bees never stop stinging. Why do they sting? Is it fun for them to sting? Do they know the pain they are causing? Remember what mother used to say?

Mother said that "The snakes don't want the humans cross their paths anymore than the humans do.”

"Each morning the snakes would pray 'God! Please let me not cross the path of humans nor the humans cross mine.”

Manu conjured up a praying snake in her mind. That is amusing.

Ah! Another bee stung again.

When? That was ten years ago.

"You are ruining the program I spent years building," he said. On their way to the class. And why did he say that?

He gave a piece of paper and told her that that was the lesson for the day.

"That is not how I work," said Manu. "First of all, I have already prepared for the class; secondly, that won't take up a whole hour; thirdly, it does not fit into my scheme of teaching. My plan flows from yesterday's lesson to tomorrow's"

"You are ruining the program I spent years building," he said.

That was worse than this bee sting, she thought as she tried to squish the one on her neck. This is getting really annoying.

She was driving to school. He said, “You are ruining the program I spent years building.” She pulled over and stopped the car.

"Do you want to teach yourself?" she asked him straight.

He kept quiet. The memory brought a smile on her lips. She showed him his place. That was fun.

Manu had a hearty laugh for a second time when the students called her for her help after she quit. They said that the new teacher imported from India was not teaching anything. It seems she would come to the class and sits there crying!

God does work in mysterious ways for sure! Manu smiled at the bee on her arm. This bee can't hurt me.

The bee can't dig her fangs through the heavy jacket. An armor of forgiveness?

Manu quickened her pace. Getting late, she told herself, barely catching glimpses of the sun through the thick branches.

Yes. Then those monster bees--the people who wanted to work with her because she was from India.

They want me to act like a true Indian, putting their interests ahead of mine. That is what the Hindu philosophy teaches us. And then they tell themselves "Buyers beware. We are in America". That is American! So it comes down to "You protect my interests and I protect my interests!”

Manu slipped into a long reverie.

This one woman who was calling me everyday, like daily puja. "You are like a mother to me," she would say. I still remember the first day. She was standing there like a shadow, looking very sad. Her husband died in a car accident two days back. All the Indians rallied around her. I didn't know her very well then. Somebody asked me if I would help them, and I agreed.

I sat down at the dining table not knowing what to do or what to say. I never knew what to say in a situation like this. No words could really be adequate to express a feeling like that.

"That morning he told me he was going to call you about buying a house. Did he?" she asked me.

No. I did not get that phone call. Before calling me, he decided to have the car washed and on his way was hit by a truck driver. Death was instantaneous.

After a few days, she asked me to drive her daughter to school. And again when they were ready to buy a house. That is when I think she started relating to me. Her phone calls became a daily ritual..

I told her several times that it was not necessary. But she wouldn't stop.

She said she was my "other daughter", would show up without notice, have a snack, feel free in my home, and tell me again and again that if something happens to me she would be the first to be here. Like a bad habit, she stayed with me until she hurt me real bad.

During the next five years, she became pretty much a private reporter for Manu, reporting regularly on local families and their activities.

Then the time had come for them to move up into a newer home. That marked the beginning of things turning sour. First it was her cousin. He used her until he got all the information and cheated her of her commission.

Then he did it a second time. First time Manu was willing to "forgive." He did it again. The second time She had to take a big loss. So much for forgiveness! The woman stopped calling her. A good riddance, Manu thought. ... Probably that is the only good thing that came out of that disastrous business. She came to see who her real friends and who were users.

Then the four chairs she borrowed for a weekend and never saw them again.

Manu called her. After they are the rich people. Why do they have to cheat me of my few things?

"Hi"

"Hi. This is Manu"

"Oh. What?"

"I want my chairs back."

"Sure. When will you be home?"

"I am home today!"

"Okay. I'll bring them today."

I was stupid enough to believe her one more time. But no. No that day.

Not the next day. Not ever. She didn't even have the decency to call and tell when she could bring them. So many times I wanted to call her and tell her what I thought of her.

"It is sick. You are sick."

"How could you sleep at night?"

"Don't you have conscience?"

"What do you think when you look in the mirror?"

"Doesn't it bother you to look at the chairs in your dining room day after day and not think that you took them from my living room?"

"You can pay 30 thousand dollars cash for a car but can't buy a dollar chair?"

"You said you would be the first to be here if something happens to me?

For what? So you could clean up my house?

I had so many scripts in my head! I exhausted my muse and my vocabulary.

And, in the process I felt exhausted too.

Sometimes I see her driving around in her fancy car, talking on her cell phone, and I know it didn't matter to her. Both she and her cousin had no problem sleeping at night or looking in the mirror. I am the one that is losing sleep while thinking about people who could be so heartless.

Honesty was certainly not of their virtues. It takes a lot of guts to be honest.

Nowadays it doesn't bother her as much. Only when something bad happens.

That woman became a symbol of everything that annoyed Manu!

I know if I were to see her again, I won't be able to say a single word to her, Manu thought.

"Like a mother" -such a powerful phrase! It hurt real big! Manu was shocked for the first time. No. I think, it was the second time. Or maybe third time. Huh! She lost count.

She saw so many people swear friendship to her and betray her again and again. The thought that somebody could be so heartless silenced her for a long time. She called them conscience-disabled!

Manu stopped with a jerk. She looked around. Gosh! She strayed away.

Manu turned around and traced back a few steps and continued towards home.

She took a deep breath.

A swarm of bees were hovering around her head. A couple of them stung on her neck. The spots turned red and starting tingling. The pain hit the central nervous system and then turned into numbness.

"You'll get used to it"

"You will get over it"

"Time will heal"

"They don't know what they are doing. Forgive them, for your own sake."

She heard it so many times. Don't know whether it was getting used to or getting over.

Manu wondered what were the bees thinking. Do they know they hurt when they sting? Why do they sting in the first place? Is it fun to sting? Just because... Manu thought that she has gotten over it. Almost...

Now again, after she thought she had gotten over the pain, one more bee rested on her cheek.

She felt it. For a strange reason the bee did not sting. Is the bee waiting for the right moment?

Manu saw the open road at a distance.

"Finally," she said with relief. She could still feel the bee on her cheek.

"What am I? Madison Metro?" Manu giggled as the question popped up in her head.

She looked up. The clouds were turning darker. She heard a thunder far away. "Oh, no. Will it start raining too?" That's annoying.

Why do these things happen to me? Her pace is getting closer to running. Manu wanted to get to the town before it starts raining.

Now, where was I? Yes. It was about the service learning class. She and another teacher were planning to take a group of students to India for service-learning.

Volunteering in India--

Service-learning...

Following the yellow-brick road

Listening to the heart

Helping the children

But then

The helping friend had a different notion of my class. She wanted to help but in her own way.

The red flag!

"No, that's not what I mean," said Manu.

"Well," said the friend.

"I am saying..."

"I am saying..."

"Work"

"Travel"

"It is not like that."

"It is like this."

Like a lark in the sky, kite on the beach, it was somersaults galore!

Annoying to both the parties.

"It is about service-learning"

"It is about showing them our culture"

"They will. They will see it everywhere."

"Two days are plenty in that little corner."

The friend always treated Manu like a "the United States of America luminary.” Manu hated the image. She tried to fight it off as hard as she could.

Then came the final blow.

"You can't slam your crazy ideas on the entire group. I won't let you," she said.

Manu was aghast. It finally struck her. It is not her friend that did not understand. It is Manu herself did not see the crux of the problem.

Manu did not measure up to her friend's criteria of "being an American luminary"!

She was cut to the quick! She felt a lump in her throat.

Manu lost appetite for a day. Couldn't sleep for three days. Mulled over it for a week...

She knew it was brewing for some time. She saw it coming for a couple of years now. She knew she was not "that friend from old times" anymore.

Unwittingly she became that Manu "from the unique and distinguished country called America".

I am her best friend not for who I am but from where I live now!

Manu felt a jab in her ribs. She knew subconsciously that it was going to happen. "One of us is going to blow up." And it happened.

It was the friend that went first.

"So, are you going to forgive?" asked her neighbor. Manu wondered.

"Am I going to forgive? Forgive for what?... For who she is?"

What if the friend was asking herself the same question, "Can I forgive Manu?" May be this is not about forgiveness. Manu recalled what her friend had to say about her outburst. "I am used to having my way, always. My husband didn't mind it," she added.

That is his character. He stayed in. I walked out. I could have stayed married. But I walked away. We all make decisions based on our own experiences, priorities and personalities.

A lightning struck in the sky. Here is a lesson to learn, thought Manu.

She is uncompromising. He keeps his cool.

I am like neither of them. It takes as much courage to stay married as to walk away. Manu strongly believed in that.

The thoughts were whizzing through her head like bumble bees. She started fighting them back with both hands, shaking them off, ducking them, running away from them...

The words like killer bees-

"Your perverse ideas... okay for you but not for them" the friend said.

I never saw this side of her before, Manu thought. She has seen it for sometime except that she did not see the depth and breadth of it! Not until now!

"Will you forgive?"

I don't think this is about forgiveness, Manu repeated in a desperate attempt to convince herself. I think it is more like a kaleidoscope. You shake it. You see a different picture.

This will always be in the back of my mind, this side of my friend, Manu concluded. It is a new picture. New perception. "One more lesson to blend into my think tank!"

She stopped and looked around.

Ha! Finally I am out of the woods!

Manu looked back. It was a lot darker now. The bees were settling into their nest!

"Going into the town?"

Manu turned around. She saw a woman just behind her.

Who is she? What does she want?

"Come this way. We will take the scenic route," she said gently holding Manu's hand. Manu felt her fingers tighten around her own.

"See that!"

"What?"

"The birds. The birds singing" The woman said as if in reverie.

Manu stared at her. Yes. The birds' are singing. It is charming!

Manu's heart leapt to her throat. Something hit the softest spot in her heart!

Hand in hand, they continued walking quietly down the beautiful country road!

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(Author's note: This is an attempt to explore interpersonal relationships, trust and betrayal. I am always confused by people who hurt others without a good reason or without meaning to. Generally speaking, each incident in itself is trivial and inconsequential. But the cumulative effect of a series of incidents on an individual at the receiving end could be devastating. The story is not about the persons who inflict the pain but the incidents that play a crucial role and transform the individual in significant ways)