As a child I spent many sweltering but happy summers accompanying my dad at work. Most of his clients knew me since I was �this high� and were more like family than clients.
My favorite clients were an older Indian couple, Kasi and Shylah. A traditional old-school Hindu, Shylah was gentle and extremely soft spoken like most Indian women of her generation. Every time I saw her, she brought me powdered donuts and a cold drink. A small gesture, but heaven to a little girl. It became a tradition, and her gifts grew with time. Once they brought us a beautiful carved statue of Ganesha to bless our household. Each summer I continued to grow taller while they seemed to shrink, but age never hindered their kindness.
Several decades later, Kasi announced their plan to retire in their birthplace of India, probably because as immigrants they could not afford to retire comfortably in this country. When the sale sign sprung up among the roses, my dad knocked on their door to properly thank them for so many years of business, and to bid a final farewell to the exceptional human beings who had become so integral to our lives. My dad said it was sad to see them go, knowing they were not likely to ever return. A believer in reincarnation, Kasi replied:
�We will meet again.�
I don�t know if a second life is inscribed in the book for me, but if it is, and we all meet again in some other world, I will give Shylah�s newer incarnation a basket of the best powdered donuts karma can buy, and with Ganesha�s blessing we will all enjoy cold drinks under the shade of roses while serenely pondering our mysterious feeling of d�j� vu...
2:10 a.m. - 2008-07-19