Masks

We each have a mask or two, perhaps more, in our lifetime

The question is – who will exult or who will weep

when you decide to drop which mask?

NEVER having met her dad in person in her twenty-four years, it was easy for Jasmine to give in to the urge of hating him. After all, he was just a handsome image in an antique silver frame on the mantel above the fireplace.

His photo occupied prime space on the mantel for as long as she could remember. Her mum would, every morning before going to work, stop a few heartbeats in front of the photo to look at it, as if saying, “I’m off to work, darling, be good.” Seeing this routine, Jasmine’s torment from her mum’s heartbreak grew, and the urge to hate her dad continued to fester.

She was already “a bun in the oven” when her mum and dad were set to marry. But the wedding did not push through. Her dad, John, jilted her mum. He went to the US, skipped his responsibility. So why should Jasmine not hate him?

Her love for her mum, Celia, was stronger. Jasmine would do anything to not make her unhappy. And Celia, since Jasmine learned that her dad abandoned them because he loved someone else, had made her daughter promise to not hate her dad.

“I love John very much, sweetheart,” Celia would say, “and you not hating him was all that I would ever ask of you.”

And there lies Jasmine’s dilemma…

BUT, this forever-love seemed to be not forever after all.

Jasmine first noticed the changes in her mum’s routine when she started taking so long doing her make-up. Her mum also started to dump overly conservative clothes, like the high-necked tops she usually wore to her office. When, that morning, her mum decided on a red chiffon top with dangerously low neckline and black above-the-knee pencil skirt, Jasmine was thrilled. Her mum, she thought, could be in-love - again. And so she should, her mum was only a young 47.

In the few weeks that followed, her mum’s bright cheer turned more exhilarating for Jasmine. And on the day when she no longer saw the photo on the mantel, she felt as if a thorn was purged from her chest.

AND, in one of life’s strange coincidences, this occurred when Jasmine and her very close friend, Sarah, went out after work for an early dinner at an Italian restaurant in the city centre. The restaurant was packed but Sarah, just the same, saw Jasmine’s mum with an elegant-looking, also mature, woman. They were seated side by side, heads together, as if sharing secrets in whispers.

Sarah gestured to Jasmine. “Look behind you, by the corner table near the tall pot plant.”

Turning her head, Jasmine started to stand. “I’ll just say hello to mum.”

But Jasmine immediately broke her stride. She saw a most unexpected scene: her mum’s dinner companion kissed her on the cheek. Intimately. Knowingly. Jasmine, eyes wide in utter wonder, wouldn’t mistake it for just a friendly kiss.

She glanced at Sarah. Sarah was also looking at Celia and her companion.

Sensing that Jasmine’s eyes were on her, Sarah reached out for Jasmine’s hand and gently pulled her back to her seat. “Leave them be.”

Jasmine felt tears in her eyes. Her mum, finally, found happiness. It was never too late, she thought, finding which way happiness was lurking as she herself discovered not long ago.

Jasmine no longer had to worry in her choice of who could make her complete. She could drop her mask, unafraid that that might make her mum unhappy or disappointed.

Sarah, not letting go of Jasmine’s hand, squeezed it tightly. Intimately. Knowingly.

IN the corner table, Celia was tearful, too. She could not describe the bliss she felt with the only love of her life. But she wasn’t used to public display of affection.

“Did you have to do that here, John – “

“I’m still Joan, remember?” s/he said softly. “But call me whatever. I don’t care. What I care about is that you have forgiven me and accepted me back in your life.” Joan/John was tearful, too.

Jasmine’s dad, who left Celia at the altar 24 years ago, flew to the US with his gay lover. Celia kept this detail from her daughter. John had a sex change there. His lover, meanwhile, had had changes of other gay lovers.

John regretted his choice. He wanted to transition back as a man. He made a stupid mistake, he said to Celia, and wanted to make amends. Hence, he returned to England for the only person who had ever loved him unequivocally. When he starts transitioning back to what he used to be, he wanted Celia’s strength and support. He could not wait to be a man again, and for the three of them to lead a happy, normal family life – without masks.

(Inside a carrier bag placed on the floor by Celia was the silver frame of John’s photo. Celia had it professionally polished by a metal conservator in the city, to preserve the details of the antique frame. She had just collected it. John’s photo would, again, take its conspicuous place on the mantel.) ###