The Photograph That Had Her Past Engraved On It

Squabbling seagulls flew overhead. Rachel sat on the sand with waves crashing against her ankles. The waves of the sea produced an opera, that was soothing. The sea seemed like a beautiful woman dressed in a cerulean blue gown. At a distance, a little girl and her mother were playing in the water. The yacht rocked like a cradle and it felt as though the sea wanted to lul Rachel to sleep.

She was physically miles away from the hullabaloo but her mind still lingered in the hospital. Pictures of the IV cannula, ice-cold stainless steel cot, the crisp white bedsheet and a frail figure cascaded before her. The screeching sound made by the wheelchair echoed in her ears. A cool breeze caressed her cheeks and her eyes fell on a velvet box that lay by her side.

She squeezed her eyebrows and her right hand fluttered on her neck. With her left hand, she picked up the box and opened it. A family portrait stared at her. Tears welled in her eyes as her fingers took a tour of the photograph.

Six months back, she had found an old film roll in an antique box that belonged to her father. Intrigued by the film and its contents, she grabbed it and stealthily slipped it into her bag. That evening, she walked into a photo studio and gave the film for processing. She was asked to receive the photographs the next day but destiny had other plans.

Her father was diagnosed with cancer. The tumour ate away his cells and tissues at a rapid pace. The dreaded C jammed his tastebuds. Rachel moved in with her father. She was engulfed by the whirlpool of work and the 24*7 care his health demanded. The thoughts about the film roll had slipped her mind. Eventually, her father wasn't able to swallow the food and he lost a great deal of body weight.

A week back, he complained of breathlessness and was rushed to the hospital. IV cannulas were inserted into his frail body. Blood works and scans were done. The doctors had diagnosed multiple organ failure and placed him on life support.

The previous evening, he had summoned Rachel into the room and spoke, "I have a confession to make. But remember, I love you. I have always loved you." Tears coursed down his wrinkled cheeks. He slowly lifted his weary hand and pointed to a velvet box on the bedside table.

"That's for you," he said. Rachel walked to the table and opened the box. She found a family portrait. The child in the portrait seemed familiar to her. Did she know her? Or was it her? The couple in the photograph looked unfamiliar. She looked at her father questioningly.

He tapped on the bed asking her to sit by his side. He removed the oxygen mask and said, "I saw you slipping the film roll into your bag. So I got it developed for you. The girl in that photograph is you. You were not born to us. You were my colleague John's daughter. He had lost his job and wasn't able to fend for you and his wife. On the contrary, I and your mom had everything in the world yet we weren't happy. We yearned for a child. Your mother had three miscarriages and had slipped into the abyss of apathy. In an attempt to restore the sunshine in our lives I decided that we must adopt a baby. When I had expressed my desire to adopt, John suggested that I adopt you. Though I was initially reluctant, his pathetic state of affairs convinced me to go with it. I offered him money and he had promised to bury our secret. You weren't happy with us for the initial six months. We showered you with love and undivided attention . You eventually got used to us. I and your mom were on cloud nine when you referred to us as mom and dad. Our joy knew no bounds. I hate to confess this to you but I won't live long and you deserve to have a family to call your own." He gasped for breath and gripped the bedsheet.

Rachel sat staring at him without uttering a word. He had begun to sweat profusely. "I'm so sorry." His voice was low as a whisper. His face seemed to be creased with lines of regret.

She enveloped his hand in hers. His hand was cold as the iron rods lining the window. His face turned purple. He had finally breathed his last. She bent forwards, kissed him on his forehead and closed his eyes. Cancer took him away from her and the truth took away her joy. But nothing would ever be able to take away their beautiful and pure bond. Nothing could ever obliterate the memories of the time they had spent together. She tried to console herself but the truth pricked her soul questioning her very existence.

The next morning, as she stood watching the casket being buried into the ground, she decided to meet her biological parents. She managed to acquire the address from an old diary that had accumulated dust on it.

After an hour of steering through the traffic, she reached the Eden house. She opened the gate and entered and saw that two young girls were playing on the porch. A sexagenarian man entered the porch. She assumed that he was her biological father John. A woman joined the family and they ate breakfast. She walked to them and introduced herself. The moment John heard her name the smile on his face vanished. The woman who was supposedly Rachel's biological mother whose name she didn't bother to find wasn't happy either.

"She is my colleague's daughter," John spoke to the young girls who looked at Rachel questioningly.

After a few minutes, the girls excused themselves. "I'm your daughter," spoke Rachel swallowing the lump in her throat.

"You are not our daughter. You never were. You were a mistake. We had given you to Tim. You got a good life and we got some money. A few years later, we were blessed with two beautiful daughters. We are a happy family and wish to remain one. We don't want you back in this house," spoke John.

The woman didn't utter a word and looked at Rachel as though she concurred with John's opinion. Rachel walked away with the tears choking her.

She didn't want to live with her biological parents. Tim had given her the best of everything. He was her father and would always be. All she wanted was to spend one day with her biological parents. Hug them, talk to them, eat with them but they had forgotten her. Just like the waves that omit the names written on the sand money had omitted her from their lives.

The smell of the sea tantalized her nostrils breaking her reverie. She got up and walked to the sea. She bent and dropped the velvet box in the water. The waves carried the box that was engraved with her past. She gave her past a sea burial. Tim was her father. He loved her and that's all that mattered.

She walked away ready to face the new dawn that brought with it hope, positivity and an opportunity to live life to the fullest.