The peaceful azure sky set a magnificent backdrop to the vast open sea embracing the scenic Batu Buruk beach. Far away, a lonely ship was sailing. Birds flying home, harboring the few people resting on it. Soothing music of nature, orchestrated by the rhythmic sea waves, was entertaining the people on the shore, scattered all around the widely known and most visited beach in Kuala Terengganu. Some indulging the gentle caress of the sea water while the majority occupying themselves with passing time activities on the white sandy beach. Voices of these people talking, shouting, laughing and even crying blended well with the waves.
The beautiful glow of the setting sun and the graceful strokes of evening breeze completed the magnificent canvas laid before the eyes of any passers-by and the visitors around the park, which was located right across the road facing the beach. The people seemed in no hurry to leave the recreational area. Children’s talks and laughs encompassed the playground. Small chats among adults and cute fights between pairs of little kids were music to the ears. Even the toddlers in the strollers seemed excited by all the sounds in the park, thus stealing looks at their older siblings around the playground. It was another weekend that captured harmonious vibes.
Among the crowd of visitors, not far from the cycling path in the park, a thirty-year-old man was examining the back wheel of his bicycle.
“Not again!” Sighing, Harith rubbed his forehead. Pushing the bicycle to the ground, he wondered how to fix it. Suddenly he remembered Adam, his nephew. Suhana, his younger sister, had left her son at their grandparents’ home to accompany her husband on a three-day business trip to Bali. He quickly scanned the playground and smiled as soon as he spotted the boy happily climbing the ladder of a slide. Satisfied that the little boy was safe, his attention returned to the bicycle.
He had the bicycle modified and gave it to her so she could cycle in the park. He had taken off the white rattan basket attached on the front wheel. It had stayed on his study desk for the past two years. “Why are you being like this, bicycle? Is it because you’re not really mine?” He was mumbling the words when he felt that someone was staring at him. Turning to his left he met a beautiful little girl looking almost like a doll – a bit messy brunette curly shoulder length hair, very fair skin with chubby cheeks and round dark brown eyes. Her pink jumpsuit, yellow t-shirt and white sneakers completed her doll-like appearance. She could be about Adam’s age he thought. The little girl smiled at him.
“You have a flat wheel, uncle?”
“Yup, sweetie and I can’t fix it.”
“I can help you.” She ran to a car, parked under a shady tree. Harith saw the little girl talking to a man. Probably her father, he thought. She pointed to Harith. He smiled and waved at them. Carrying a bicycle pump, the man and the little girl walked towards Harith.
“Asalamualaikum. I’m Iskandar, this chubby little girl’s Daddy.”
“Waalaikum salaam. I’m Harith Faisal.”
“I’m Jasmine, Daddy.”
Harith, a little surprised to hear the name, smiled at Jasmine.
“Of course, you are, my Princess Jasmine!” Iskandar touched her small nose and turned to Harith.
“Hi, there, Jasmine. Thank you for your help, sweetie.”
“Jasmine said you have a problem with the wheel. Hope this can help.” He handed Harith the pump.
“Thanks.”
Jasmine ran to the slide and made small talk with Adam. Harith began working on the wheel.
“Do you come here a lot, Mr. Iskandar?”
“Whenever I have the time. Jasmine just loves it here. Her mother used to like this place too…” He paused remembering something. “…today is her seventh birthday and she wanted to come here. Please join us later. Her Grandma packed us with enough food to feed five people…even the birthday cake!”
“Alhamdulillah! Thanks for the food and drinks. Adam really enjoyed the cake and the fried noodles with the fish crackers. Also thanks for the pump.” The men looked at Adam and Jasmine who were finishing their drinks. “I guess we’d better get going.”
“Really nice meeting the two of you here, Mr. Harith.”
“Same here, Mr. Iskandar. InshaAllah, we’ll meet again.”
“InshaAllah.”
Harith and Adam rode their bicycles to the car park. Suddenly Harith’s cell phone rang.
“Yes, Grandma. Yes, we’ll be home in ten minutes, inshaAllah.” He sensed from his grandmother’s urgent voice that something was up with his grandfather.
~
The double storey house – a fusion of modern and traditional architectural designs – was quiet when Harith reached the front door. The living room was empty. His grandparents must be at the nearby musolla for Maghrib prayer. Adam ran to his room. A maid in her fifties came out and confirmed where his grandparents were. Quickly Harith prepared to join the early evening congregational prayer at the musolla.
It was around nine o’clock when Harith came home. He heard Adam talking with his great grandmother. He walked to the direction of the voice. His nephew was narrating the meeting at the park. Seeing Harith, Hajjah Maryam signaled her grandson to go to the study room. “I’ll join you in a minute, dear.”
An old man in his seventies was sitting at a desk, reading a tafseer. After giving salam, Harith took a seat at the sofa set opposite the desk. Haji Mustapha came to join his grandson. Harith thought it was a little strange for his grandfather to sit across from him at the sofa set. The door opened and his grandmother entered with ginger tea for the three of them.
Sitting beside her husband, Hajjah Maryam looked at her grandson with a mix of sad and happy expressions on her face. Harith felt a little awkward, almost disturbed, as he sensed a little tension in the air, yet keeping himself composed to what was about to take place. The three of them rarely gathered in that room. It was usually him meeting his grandfather to discuss matters about work at the office or their batik factory.
“Right after you left for the beach, your Pak Tua called …and told us everything. Obviously she calculated the time before leaving. Today was the day and we were told the truth.”
“She? The truth?”
“Jasmine...and what really happened on that wedding day,” answered Haji Mustapha followed by a nod from his grandmother.
Harith’s jaw dropped. He was speechless for a moment. Meeting little Jasmine earlier reminded him of his Jasmine as well as his long lost mother. All the way driving home, he recalled the times with Jasmine at the park.
Looking straight into Harith’s eyes, his grandfather continued. “I want you to be honest with me, Harith. I know I haven’t been the kind of grandfather a grandson like you would want to have. I have my reasons and some you’ve already known. Some are wise to be kept secret for the betterment of our family.”
Harith took in every word uttered by Haji Mustapha. Nothing new to his ears. So what was the big truth? And why did Jasmine’s name suddenly crop up? No one had mentioned the name for the past one year and a half. He believed the family wanted to spare him the agony of what went down almost two years ago. Or perhaps, they had decided to forget the name.
“All that might change today…but before that, I want to hear it all.” The old man’s voice was suddenly less commanding than usual.
Moments earlier, he had guessed from his grandmother’s face that his grandfather had another tip regarding him searching for his mother yet again. For years he had been secretly searching for her ever since he began working in the family’s batik business which was about seven years ago. He saved one third amount of his monthly salary to use only for that purpose. He was a little distracted during Jasmine’s stay, but never stopped entirely.
As for Jasmine, she vanished into thin air about two years ago. Just like his mother did. He had tried tracking her down until his talk with Pak Tua after her disappearance. He gave it a rest since. Of the two women, he decided to pursue looking for his mother. He missed Jasmine still but kept telling himself that his life would only be complete after he had found his mother.
“Harith, what we’ve learnt today has changed a big part of what we believed was true.”
Haji Mustapha’s voice brought Harith back from his musing. What could have Pak Tua told them, he thought. Jasmine left but clearly she had made a deal with Pak Tua. “So, what did Pak Tua say? No, no…exactly what did Jasmine say?”
“Before we go into that, tell us everything…do not leave a single thing out, dear…about you and Jasmine…from your first meeting with her and all that happened between the two of you until the day she left…on that wedding day two years ago.” Hajjah Maryam’s voice was gentle yet encouraging.
“You two had some kind of a partnership and both were…I would say still trustful to one another or the partnership itself. What I don’t understand is how come you don’t even know where she is now?” his grandfather added.
First the meeting with that little Jasmine in the park and now this! The thought ran through his head. There was still a half month before the two-year time completed. Only then he had promised himself to seek for Jasmine again. He still could not figure out why she needed the two years though.
Harith hesitated for a little while but realized no harms in telling his grandparents everything. They had known much about him and Jasmine. His relationship with his grandfather had improved somehow though still not as normal as it should have been. Losing Jasmine did change the family in some positive ways – a blessing in disguise though it did not justify losing her in his life.
“Harith…” called his grandmother after his long pause.
“We met in a flight…”
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