and this posed a serious problem for your grandfather. The girl’s father was very upset and decided that since the truth would now most likely leak out, he would take things into his hands. He threatened to cause a public stir and defame the entire family. Your father could not stand by and watch the family suffer for a sin that Jeet had committed. So he announced that he would stand in Jeet’s place, that he would marry the girl.”
“How was that possible? He was already married to you.”
“Yes, legally he was my husband, and he had already filed immigration papers to come to Canada. No outsiders were invited. Just the family conducted a small ceremony to give satisfaction to the girl and her father that her child would have a name. It was done to give her some peace of mind after such a traumatic experience. The villagers didn’t even know what had happened. So to keep the secret, your grandfather shifted the entire family to Delhi. When your father received his immigration to Canada, he left India and never went back, but continued to send money. Papers were doctored to show that Jeet had in fact married her, and the child was his.”
“Wow, that’s . . . that’s . . . that’s really messed up.”
“It’s a lot to understand. I had a tough time dealing with it, but I had seen the state that the poor girl was in. I understood why your father did what he did. I never had any complaints against him. If he hadn’t married her and made sure that she would be taken care of, then God only knows where she would have ended up, or if she and her child would have survived.”
“But why was a picture taken of Dad and her? I mean, if Dad just stepped in, why the photo?”
“It was leverage. The girl’s father wanted it taken, in case our family backed away from carrying out our promise to care for her and her son and giving them the family name.”
“I wish you had told me this sooner, Mom. It would have prevented my hostile behaviour towards Dad this past year. It would have helped if you had said something sooner.”
“I realize that, but I took an oath that I would never say a word unless your father deemed it necessary.”
“So why now? What difference does it make? He’s already gone. I can’t correct what’s happened in the past year, the way I attacked him and cut him out of my life.”
“It matters now, Esha, because your father wanted you to know. He . . .” Her voice trailed away as she got off the bed and walked carefully over to the window, staring off into the vast landscape that surrounded us. After a short silence, she continued. “Before he left us, your father made a request.”
“What kind of request?”
She turned around to face me now. “He wished that I tell you the truth regarding the family in India. He wished that you be the one to travel back with his ashes. He wished that you discover the family in India, and that along with the son, you travel to Kiratpur, the sacred place for Sikhs, and that you pour his ashes into the river as it has been done for countless Sikhs, including several of our Gurus. Esha, your father wished that you try, at least once, to discover what it is to be a Sikh.”
That sounded like more than just one request, and what was this about “learning to be a Sikh?” What did she mean? Travel to India? Me? The idea was laughable at best. I wasn’t sure I even wanted to meet that family.
“Mom, this is too much!” I finally objected. “What am I going to do in India? And it’s such a big responsibility to . . . to . . . well, the ashes thing. I’ve never been to India, I barely visit the Gurdwara here, so what do I know about doing stuff like that? I can’t do it, no way! And that family, I’m not even sure I want to meet them. I mean, you just told me all of this stuff now; I haven’t even begun to process it. It’s too soon, and what about my soccer season? I can’t just abandon the team . . . and—”
“This is your father’s dying wish, Esha! Can’t you even try?” she said, cutting me off. “Just once, try to do something for the father who spent his life working hard to give you this life; for the father who held your small hands and taught you how to walk; for the father who died waiting for his daughter to return . . . from . . . from what? What were you doing when your father was in his last moments, waiting and hoping that his youngest daughter would be by his side, huh? Where? I imagine you were out on a cigarette break? Right? What, you think I don’t know what you are up to?”
She knew!
“Don’t jump to conclusions, Mom! I was not having a cigarette. I don’t smoke!” I lied. “And don’t try to change the subject here. Honestly, you know I can’t go to India. I can’t do this!”
“Esha.” She walked towards me and placed her hands on my shoulders. I could sense she was shifting her strategy, but I wasn’t going to give in. “Your father and I have tried not to force you to live life the way we wish you would. Instead, we have always secretly prayed that one day you would find your way back to us. This is the time to carry out your responsibility. You are his daughter. Your father has passed on, but he has made one last request. It is your duty to follow through on that request.
“You have a whole life ahead of you. This is your only chance to discover that other part of you, discover the part that you have shut up and put away all these years. You are a Sikh. You may not care, but it was an important part of who your father was. He wants you to discover why. Think of it as a challenge or an adventure, but please do this one thing for him, child.”
She held my gaze for a long time, then she patted my cheek ever so softly before she walked away. Damn that guilt trip!
“Mom,” I called out in defeat just as she reached the doorway.
“Yes?”
“What’s his name?” I asked.
“Who?”
“The son in India, what’s his name?”
“His name is Ekant, Ekant Singh.”
FOUR
Esha, I still can’t believe you’re going through with this,” Mandy said as she paced around my room. “I mean, India, it’s so . . . so . . .”
“Exotic?” Carrie offered.
“I doubt it’s exotic, Carrie,” Reet replied.
“Yeah, but so Third World, no? I mean, what are you going to do there, and can you even speak their language? How long will you be gone?”
“Mandy’s right, and dude, just think how annoyed we get here when we have to attend Indian stuff. Now you’ll be surrounded by it with no escape!” added Reet.
“Okay, calm down! And thanks for pointing that out, Reet. But, honestly, I don’t know how long, and I have no clue what it’ll be like. Trust me, this wasn’t my idea. As for the language, my father made sure long ago that my sister and I learned how to speak Punjabi, so I doubt that’ll be a problem.”
I was just finishing up my packing. The girls had been over since the previous night. They were dreading the idea of summer without me, but at the same time they were very excited over the prospect of me trying to survive on my own in India.
“So why are you going? Why can’t
