Me, M(a)y(a) and Thomas

Every Thanksgiving for 6 years now, (a few of) my thoughts find its way to Maya ...


I was lucky to go to college and find friends who I shared more in common with than an addiction to chocolate and good food around the city. :-) (Yeah, I wasnt the 'girly-college-gal') Being plopped into a new country wasnt as mind boggling as you'd think- I realised I was really malleable when it came to new cultures... and that brings me to Thomas.


St Thomas to be exact. One of the first Christians to have set foot in India. But I'm no historian, so if you want more of the good Saint- read it here... or see it here.


After a few semesters of clubbing, watching friends get high on dope and well numerous other entertaining facets of hostel life, we got bored. (Its probably A.D.D, someone once told me...!) We'd been to the St Thomas Mount before, actually we happened to stumble upon the place one day while talking to a group of cute army-men. (If you read the wiki entry, the Church was right next to an army camp)


November is one of the best months to do any walking or hiking around Madras, its the only time when you wont break out into a sweat while putting your shoes on! Anyways... before A.D.D hits again let me get back on track.


The Church maintained a small orphanage where we used to visit. It felt surreal- playing with these kids, watching them live out their childhood happily. All the while thinking of what the nuns just told you, about the horrors most of them went through, so early- before they were brought to the doorstep of the mount. I dont think I'll ever forgot the first time I saw Maya. She was the happiest kid on the playground. Never jostled or shoved for a turn at the swings. Content to watch the other kids playing. I was curious, I beckoned to her and she ran to me almost instantly. She was dressed in white and for some reason that way she looked at me was intimidating.


I asked her, "Whats your favorite color?", thinking that would stump her! Hah! "White, because its so clean", she said.


Over the next coupla weeks I found out more about Maya. She was 3 days old when left at the orphanage, her mom was too poor to take care of her. They hadnt heard from her family since. She was now almost 4 years old- a happy, loving child... with a hole in her heart.


Months later, some 10's of thousands of rupees donated, a surgery was performed at the St Thomas hospital. The Church was at a constant vigil, lit by candles that never seemed to die out. It was heatwarming to say the least when we were finally allowed to see Maya. This time she beckoned and we went to her side, she smiled- her wide engaging smile. But I didnt expect anything less- her heart was now whole again.



A few months later I Maya bid goodbye to the orphanage. It was easier than I expected. She was adopted by a family who worked for the hostel I stayed at. I knew she was going to a better place and hopefully, a better life. Maya thrived in an place filled with a sense of sad finality or hopeful dreams, I guess because she choose the latter.


Over my final year at college, I got to see Maya pretty often. Running the hallways of our hostel, clutching a variety of sweets. We got to spend good times with her, keeping her engaged while her Mom finished up her work. I never really bade her goodbye when I left, and I dont regret that. It would have been pretty hard... on me. After all, how much do we remember of our lives when we're 4? And anyways, Maya never liked seeing someone cry.


Maya, where-ever you are now, I hope you're doing measureably better than that November in 2000. And I think... I have so much to be Thankful for. Here's to the start of a happy holiday season!