Resonating Reflections

I was driving with zeal, on a not so zealous road. It was 10 long years since; I’d crossed this deserted cross road. I was off to meet the man who had made a significant and deep impact in my life; both personally and professionally. He has always been a true friend, an excellent mentor, a valuable guide, and above all an outstanding individual. A walking encyclopaedia, yet modest. The very first time I saw him was when I was a teenage school kid. I had kicked my football hard enough to break his big hard pot. My friend ran away in freight. While I stood there ready to confront my fate. For, this wasn’t a new episode in my life. Being a naughty brat, such unpleasant experiences were inevitable. Amongst his red ixora, stood this man. I anticipated an equally red face of his, as I scanned him from toe to head. But much to my amusement, he stood there with a sparkling smile on his face. He said calmly, “Come my child, take the ball. But be careful not to hurt others.” Well! Our relation started from there. Then on, I became a regular visitor to his garden. I’d love spending hours by his side on weekends. A complete new me evolved when I was with him. Uncle Amos was a star among the kids. But I sure did have a special place in his heart.

Uncle Amos lived with his wife Stella in our school premises. He taught us value education at school. He was the oldest staff at St. John’s School. He never wanted anyone to address him as “teacher, Sir, or by any other name. He always insisted to be called as uncle Amos”. He was a fit man in his mid-forties. All qualities that were attributed to a perfect human was seen in him. A man filled with passion to excel his own qualities. He loved to garden his plants, though he had a small garden. His house was a couple of kilometres walk from the main administrative building. Every morning he would walk briskly to the assembly hall. He led the choir, played the piano, directed the play, read the Bible story and of course the “Our father, who art in heaven…. - prayer “that he said would put me in a deep sense of tranquillity. His assembly was a key to a happy morning and an optimistic day ahead to everyone present there.

Uncle Amos didn’t have any children. His wife – Stella aunty, is his better half in every sense. An excellent cook, who would cook variety of exquisite cuisines. Italian, Japanese, or Asian; she was a flavour queen with the flavours spreading near and far. She owned a small cafeteria. She was as compassionate and caring as her husband. I’ve never seen them argue on anything. She would acknowledge every word of uncle Amos; the ones that were spoken and the ones that were said in absolute silence. An extremely simple life they led.

Uncle Amos was an open book, simple and predictable man. But one aspect of his life that was always inquisitive to me, was the fact that he never looked into the mirror. To the extent that there wasn’t a single mirror in their house. Whenever I did pick up this topic, he would walk away. The word mirror would make him red. This was the only incidence that I had seen him get fretful. Despite repeated questioning, he kept numb. Stella aunty would gesture, not to question. One day when I insisted, Aunty softly uttered in my ear “certain things are dark like the dark night. Let’s hope someday, this darkness would end and he’ll wake up into a new day”. Unable to understand the complex meaning hidden in her statement, I kept quiet. I knew, that there must be some very important matter.

Even after graduation, I kept visiting Uncle Amos and Aunt Stella every weekend. Sometimes watering his garden or eating my heart out at her cafeteria. Until I had to fly off for my job. However, I would keep in touch via telecall and video chat. Last night, Aunty called. She was restless, “My dear child, is it possible for you to visit us? Your uncle needs you. The darkness has come face to face. He needs some strong shoulder to support during this emotional turmoil he’s going through”. Without any further question, I started off. I wonder what this darkness was? Is it something to do with his mirror phobia? Is it something from the past? He had migrated to this land 25 years ago and no one knew his past. As I headed towards the main gate of their house, my heart pounded fast and I felt my head would blast with opposing thoughts.

Upon entering the house, I could sense a deafening silence. He sat there silent and lone. To my utter surprise, he held the mirror in his hand and kept starring right into it. His eyes on mirror, his eyes were as lifeless as that of a stone statue. Stella Aunty came in from the backyard. She hugged me and signalled to talk to uncle. With baby steps, I moved closer, placed my hand on his shoulder. He gently turned towards me. Stood straight, clasped my hand firmly, showed me the mirror. He pointed to his reflection and said “I’ve missed him for ages, he never accepted me. Today he is gone away, yet he reflects through my reflection.” Absolutely, clueless and utterly confused to the core, I reacted by raising my brows. He ran to the room, got his laptop, logged in and asked me to read his mail.

Curious to find an answer to all those bombarding questions in my mind, I read on. It was from a certain man named Able Fernandez. Subject: My first and last mail to you. It read “My beloved brother Amos. It’s been twenty-five long years; we have seen each other. I never wanted to talk to you, I never wanted to see you. I have always been the bad guy in the family. I never respected you and always was ashamed to call you my twin brother. The fact that we both were identical, made me feel ashamed of you. I remember you being an obedient son, an intelligent student and a righteous man. I misused your name to get my work done. I fogged daddy’s signature for the property. I made millions of dollars. I betrayed Stella, to whom I was betrothed, in order to marry ruby for a big business deal. I plotted against all your plans, ensured you’d be a loser in life. I kept my children away from you, owing to the fact that they were so much attached to you. They would murmur your name “uncle Amos, uncle Amos” even in sleep. I have always taken advantage of the similarity in our looks, to trick people around. Your calm and composed nature were welcomed by all. I wanted to take away every penny from your pocket and make you as poor as a church mouse. I wanted to get rid of you. My men attacked you. Stella and you were lucky enough to escape, but your unborn child had to die even before stepping onto this world. I knew Stella wouldn’t be a mother again, I felt truly happy. I remember the day when you walked into my bungalow, with the rod in your hand. You were furious like a fire. The fire in you could burn every inch of me. Your words still linger in my ears “Able, you have played smart, but your deeds will one day will punish you.”  The vengeance in your eyes shook the earth under my feet. My thighs trembled. “You hypocrite fellow. You showed your might on my innocent baby. You brutally killed him. My child. My child. My innocent little child. You deprived me of being a father. Stella is in coma. Stay happy. Be content, for you have already shattered me into piece. You have killed my soul. My existence is of no use. Though you never liked the identical face; I cherished the fact that we were alike. But today I hate this face I never want to see it again”.  Saying so, you broke the mirror. Walking away, you knelt down hugged my children and said “you are spared today not as my brother but because you are a father. Try to be a good one, do justice to this role of yours." 

All these years, I’ve seen reflection of myself. Images beautiful, images nasty, images clear, images blurred, images of oneness, images of solitude. I’ve seen all the varieties in this life of mine. From west to east having measured the earth. Partying with all good and bad. Sailing in the golden boat of life, I was the king of my land. No one to stop, no one to question, no restriction and no liabilities. But today everything seems a mere illusion. The reality stands tall. All I wish is to see your reflection. But….. Oh! brother Amos, today I lay on my deathbed all alone. My wife left me. Children no longer visit me. No friends and no company. Luxurious house. Millions of dollars. But I am lonely. God has punished me for all my sins with this unbearable pain and the curse of this disease.

Forgive me if you can. Please do pray for the peace of my soul. Very soon I'll depart.

Love Able.

Uncle Amos cried like a lost child. He wept long until his store of tears exhausted. He held the mirror. Pointing to the reflection he said. "That is a reflection. It not only reflects my face but it's a reflection of able too. His reflection was dark. The shadow of which made my reflections filthy. With repentance, he has washed away the darkness. Reflections show the self, but it reflects your character too.

My head bombarded, but the fog cleared off my foggy mind. All questions were answered. Why Uncle Amos and aunty Stella never had children of their own. Why they led a simple life. Why he wanted children to call him Uncle Amos and the darkness behind the mirror phobia.