Letting go

He is awed by Sydney, its razzle, dazzle and dimensions. But the city is impersonal, antiseptically clean compared to where he has come from. People are cold, aloof, brusque. So he is happy to find a job in this country town. His visa requires him to work here for at least his first two years in Australia.

People at work are friendly and helpful. But everyone seems to have busy lives, with little time to talk and socialize.  He struggles with accents and holding conversation. He has no family here, and no friends.

He is shy, diffident, hyper conscious of his brown skin and his ignorance of the local mores. Everything around is alien - the food, the smells, the architecture. He is used to bustling crowds, honking traffic, hawkers on the street, myriad colours wherever the eye looks. It all adds up to feelings of loneliness and isolation.

Each day he walks home alone, to the little unit he rents. His neighbours appear wary of his presence, though he does pick up the tentative smile here and there.

The only consolation is that he likes his work. He feels needed. It is a legal firm though his skill set is in computer software. He is the only computer geek in the office. So he is in demand. The workload keeps his mind off his loneliness.

Ash, can you help me? I am in the middle of researching for an important brief, and my computer has gone down.

He looks up from his desk shyly. He recognizes her sing song voice. She is beautiful. He has seen her around the office, often deep in discussion with clients, or buried in one of her briefs. To her, he is remote, a background. To him, she has gradually become the singular biggest attraction in this arid environment. He loves the way she moves, her physical grace, the spontaneous smile, the twinkling laughter. He can never envisage a relationship with her, given her seniority in the hierarchy and his lowly status. So he dares not dream.

But now he has the opportunity of being of help to her. Of being in her proximity. Of being someone she recognises, and hopefully appreciates.

He moves to her desk and pulls up a chair. He struggles to focus on the task at hand. Her scents distract him. He notices her long, elegant fingers as she uses the keyboard to show him the problem. He shakes his head and tries to focus.

Are you okay Ash? I know I am bothering you but this is urgent.

He is embarrassed. He decides to get hold of himself. As they work through the computer glitches together, she asks about him.

You are newly arrived, right? He nods and smiles shyly.

Yes, about three months in Sydney and now a month here.

Do you like our town and office? She inquires. She asks if he has any friends. She is solicitous when she hears he does not. We must rectify this, she insists.

That evening, after work, he is surprised when she stops by his desk.

 Would you like to join some of us for after work drinks? She asks.

He is taken aback. This is unexpected. He is not sure he will cope with the social challenge. He is acutely aware of how difficult he finds it just to keep up with the banter and repartee in the office among their colleagues.

Come on Ash. Its about time you came out of your shell. And its just an hour or so at the local pub.

Actually, he is thrilled. Thrilled that she has remembered him, that she is concerned and wants to help.

Soon they are meeting every other evening. The time with her is the most blissful period of the day. He counts the hours till office closure time.

With her help, he makes friends. He is now the popular, the much-in-demand Ash not just at work but in the larger community. Everyone has a computer problem, and Ash is the wizard at hand. She has opened up his world and for that he will forever be grateful.

They have gradually become close friends. She is fascinated by his ethnic background, the country from which he comes, the tortuous processes he has gone through to get to Australia. She is sucker for stories of his past, his cultural background, why he migrated.  He loves telling her stories of his homeland, so strange to her own environment. In conversation, he enjoys her nearness, her perfume, her searching eyes and arching eyebrows.

And then it dawns on him like a bolt from the blue; he is in love. He does not know how to tell her. The culture he comes from does not encourage spontaneous sharing of feelings. But deep down, he knows she is unreachable. Her world is a very different one to his. And he must be careful not to mistake friendship and concern for love and affection.

They only really meet in office, at coffee breaks or at after work drinks. He has never had alone time with her and he longs for the opportunity.

It’s a year now that he has been working here. He has grown in confidence. He has acquired not just the Aussie twang but also the mannerisms and behaviours of his colleagues. He has a number of mates, male friends who have taught him footy and darts and with whom he enjoys the camaraderie and jostling so typical among young Australian males.

But his shining light, the centre of his affections remains Cassie. They enjoy each other’s company, the regular one-on-one meetings, but never has she shown anything beyond collegial friendship.

One day the news goes out - Cassie is on her way to Melbourne. He is in shock. Never in their long conversations has she hinted about this move. He is hurt.

They meet in the local café that evening. He leans over and takes hold of her hand. He is surprised at his courage. He has never dared have physical contact with her before. She is surprised as well. But does not move her hand away.

Cassie, you are leaving. Why? Aren’t you happy here? I have never said this before but I was hoping our relationship would grow into some future for us together.

Ash, I like you. You are one of the few bright lights to have entered my life in this otherwise boring little town. But I must move on, Ash. I am still young and I need to grow professionally. The opportunities here are limited. I hope you will understand.

He looks deep into her eyes. They have come very close and he has in truth become needy of her companionship and love.

He shakes his head. I am not sure I had any right to hope. I suppose I am just another immigrant, who is interesting for a while. Now other more interesting things beckon.

How can you even say that, Ash? That’s really not fair. You’re now playing the ‘poor me’ game.

He is taken aback and hurt by her response. It’s a slap in the face.

She continues – You came here a year ago, a shy and tentative young Ash. Today, you have grown to be the confident Ash, social, involved with the community, called upon to help in all sorts of situations. You are a man about town. I admire you, and how you have thrived here.

You left behind your family and country to pursue your own dreams. You have to understand I am trying to do the same.  I too have to move on now. I too need to answer that call, Ash, to find my destiny.  And it is not in this town.  

He sees the truth in what she says. He backs off. He respects her for saying it as it is. He thinks back guiltily of how easily he abandoned his college sweetheart back home to come to Australia in pursuit of his ambitions.

And what about our relationship? He asks.

I shall always treasure this friendship, Ash, and the things you have taught me about your world. You will always remain very special to me. But we must go our separate ways now.

Yes, he has to learn to make his own way through life here. Perhaps in time, Melbourne will call for him as well. But by then, will Cassie also have moved on in life?

He leans across and kisses her on the lips. The first and last time he will. A light kiss, but one with a message. It says, do go your way. I am with you and wish you well.

He knows the hurt will stay for a while. The sadness is deep. But he must be happy for her. And above all, thankful that they ever met up and journeyed together, short though the time was.

Letting go and letting grow is the hardest lesson of life.