Page 17 of Behind the Painting
Another year until you come to Thailand and we meet again. You’ll no longer be the young Nopporn I used to know. It will have been almost six years since we parted. You were twenty-two then, so you’ll be twenty-eight. My Nopporn will be quite grown up, no longer a boy like before. You’re bound to be very different, but it will be the difference which comes with maturing and thriving. Quite the opposite to me, whom you will think different, too. But different in the sense of being on the decline. However, we’ll surely recognize each other because we share certain memories we can never forget.
It’s strange how, lately, contact between us has become so infrequent. Two years ago, I still remember, I didn’t hear from you more than three times throughout the whole year. But, in fact, it was my own wish that you should have all your time for studying without having to worry about keeping up a regular correspondence, so what you did was correct.
Nearly five years have passed without any great hardship. One year will go much more quickly and smoothly. I haven’t any further words of advice because you’re your own master, and it looks as if you can manage better than me, even. I await your return, my dear, to see with my own eyes the progress in life my young friend has made.
Thinking of you always,
Kirati
I read her letter with no emotion. Of course, I felt a sense of gratitude towards her, as if she were my older sister. She had given me advice and encouragement which had always been ofgreat value to me. But the feeling of passion had died. Time had swept away my infatuation with her without me being conscious of it. I did not notice, nor was I aware, that Mom Ratchawong Kirati had concealed the depth of her feelings in that letter. Subtlety and discretion were, at that time, beyond my comprehension.
16
There were few people on the Mitsui Busankaisha Company’s wharf on the morning when theNachisanmarubrought me in to Bangkok from Japan. This was because there were no more than seven or eight passengers on the vessel, of whom I was the only Thai. Thus, when the boat docked, I was able to see quite clearly the group of people waiting for me.
The first person I saw was my father. He was standing at the front of a group of more than ten close relatives. There were four or five close friends of about the same age as me there, too. Among the group of relatives was a woman I did not recognize, but from the way she looked at me, she seemed no less interested in me than anyone else.
I saw no sign of Mom Ratchawong Kirati among the group. Only when I cast my eyes around the whole area did I see a beautiful figure in navy blue, leaning back against the door of a large saloon car. Then I saw the tiny hand waving slowly to me. I waved back happily, because even though she was standing some distance away, I recognized the figure as Mom Ratchawong Kirati.
Once the crew had fixed the gangway, all the friends and relatives who had come to meet me boarded the boat. I stood by the gangway, ready to greet them. My father was the first to welcome me. He came straight up to me and hugged his eldest son with all the love and emotion that he had kept bottled up for eight years.I hugged him with the same emotion. Then other relatives and friends crowded round and expressed their affection in a similar fashion. I cannot describe how I felt that first morning I reached Bangkok. It was the most wonderful day of my life, and never since have I experienced such joy and happiness.
As I was greeting one lady a little uncertainly, my father came over, placed his hands on my shoulder, and told me that she was my fiancée. Then I recognized her. She had a plain, ordinary-looking face, neither ugly nor beautiful. Standing there before me, her manner was one of shyness and embarrassment. I am not good at small talk and since we were only slightly acquainted, I said only a few words before she drew aside to let others come and greet me.
Mom Ratchawong Kirati was the last to come and see me. She was wearing a navy-blue outfit with a white floral design, the same outfit as she had worn when I first met her in Tokyo, five or six years earlier. However, even though it was the same outfit I remembered from a long time ago when we first met, strangely, that morning, it did not strike me. It was strange, too, that Mom Ratchawong Kirati, for whatever reason, should have come to meet me on my first day in Bangkok, wearing the same clothes she had worn six years ago.
Her manner still seemed quiet and charming, as it had been in the past. The difference was that the dignity of her age, which was now past forty, made her even more charming. Although some of her radiance had diminished, her attractiveness and great beauty had not abandoned her. She was still striking in appearance.
Mom Ratchawong Kirati touched my hand, and I squeezed hers, with all the joy and excitement I would have felt at meeting a sister who had been away for a long time. I was the first to speak.
‘I’ve missed you a lot.’
‘I’ve thought of you constantly. Constantly, since we parted,’ she said, slowly and calmly, although I could see the deep happiness in her eyes. I felt embarrassed by her words when I recalled that, no matter how intensely I had missed her on occasions, my feelings had not remained constant, as hers had for me.
‘I’m so pleased to see you again,’ I continued.
‘And I’ve been waiting for you. Waiting all the time.’
‘You’re so kind to me.’
‘If what you say is true, then so I should be, shouldn’t I?’
‘I fear I’m not worthy. You’re too kind to me,’ I said, laughing. I paid no attention to the effect my response might have upon Mom Ratchawong Kirati. Nevertheless, she was silent for a while.
‘You’re hurting my hand,’ Mom Ratchawong Kirati chided me gently. ‘Today isn’t like when we parted at the docks in Kobe.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ I cried, releasing her hand immediately. ‘I’m in Bangkok now and we don’t have to part again. We don’t have to go through that misery.’
‘Who knows, Nopporn?’ she countered softly, which puzzled me a little.
‘Well, I’m not planning to leave again for the rest of my life.’
‘But that’s not the only cause of parting, nor the only source of sorrow,’ she said, touching my arm. ‘But let’s not argue about it now. All your relatives are wanting you.’
‘You’re as much a relative as them, as far as I’m concerned.’
‘That may be so. But I still shouldn’t keep you to myself today. Off you go, my dear, go and see your father.’
So together we went straight to the ship’s saloon, where most of my friends and relatives were waiting. Some of them dragged me off to the cabin I had occupied at sea, to see what my living conditions were like and to help carry my things off the boat. After that, I was constantly surrounded by people, andscarcely got another opportunity to speak to Mom Ratchawong Kirati.
