The fatigue of a long flight from the other side of the globe took onto Maya as she paced the stone paved roads of Alberobello. She traced the identical looking streets as though searching for something. The mid afternoon sun pierced her through her crisp white sundress, making beads of sweat break on her flawless face. She pulled out a monogrammed handkerchief from her straw hand bag and dabbed on her face.
"How do I ever find out?" She wondered aloud - freezing in the middle of the steep street, looking at the array of doors stacked like Lego blocks. There had to be a little clue, a wee ray of hope somewhere, in making her find what she is looking for.
She animatedly flipped the paper she is clutching onto - as if hoping that it would work like a magic wand and open one of those doors to unite her with her quest. Instead, the paper escaped her gentle grip and floated parallel to the stone paved street. She quickly hurried into big steps, finally getting a hold of it and tucking it into her bag.
"What use is the paper anyway?, I have no clue what the exact address is - Or if it really is this very town that is going to open the doors to my unanswered questions" She thought while settling on a raised step nearby. She pulled out her wallet, and looked longingly at her parents , Martha and Steve, holding her as a two year old. It never stuck her this hard, the unsimilarity of them and her - Their knotty hair, soulful black eyes and ebony skin forming a contrast on her naturally occurring Mediterranean tan and hazel eyes. It took her a few years to understand the fact that they are not her biological parents, and a few more years to come to terms with it - Or so she thought. She never came to terms with it actually. She wanted to travel to where she belonged, where her actual mom and dad stayed - all with meager clues and incomplete facts.
Maya turned back to the sound of an opening door - a little girl stepped out, holding a baby doll - She approached Maya and spoke something in Italian.
Maya ruffled her hair with a smile. "I don't speak Italian,Honey" She answered knowing for sure that those words would be as foreign to the little girl as the Italian she just heard was to her.
The girl stopped talking and looked at her in puzzled amusement.
"Maya come inside" - a voice gently drifted from the insides of the door.
A middle aged man stepped out of the door. Maya looked at him puzzled, asking him how he knew her name.
'It is the name of my daughter" - He answered her in heavily accented English.
"What a coincidence?" - Maya exclaimed letting out a peal of laughter - I am Maya too.
The man bent forward and offered to shake Maya's hand - "My name is Alberto" - "Are you a tourist? You look very Italian!"
"I am Italian, she answers - till my parents decided to renounce me one day"
Alberto looked at her with misty eyes - "Just like my Maya" He whispered.
Maya held the hand of little Maya and pulled her into her embrace.
"You will perhaps have a journey to make dearie, a quest to discover the burden of your own existence, and I hope you find your answers"
Little Maya looked on confused, a half smile fading into a frown, wiping Maya's tears away tenderly!
Picture Courtesy - Fotolia.
Picture Courtesy - Fotolia.