Infinity

'The next station is Rajiv Chowk. The doors will open on the left. Mind the gap.' The same destination and the same rush and the same road. Each day seems to replicate itself. All I have to do is work as an emotionless robot, return home and wait for the dark corners of my room to close on me till I manage to escape in my slumber.

The doors opened, and, following the pied pipers, I got down along with the million rats. I was meandering on the platform when my eyes randomly caught a diary fall from a lady's handbag. I made a short sprint where the diary was lying and picked it up.

"Hey! Hello lady!" I tried to scream, but it didn't go as far as it should have. Instead, the hustlers turned around to make sure if I was a lunatic or a stalker following a phantom. With little traces of blush on my face, I started walking at a pace in an attempt to catch her. I was almost there when she got into a cab and left. I realized that a quick walk felt like a super marathon. I went breathless. I was already late for my work, but I couldn't care less. I sat on the stairs of the exit side of the metro station and opened the diary.

Oh no! It was a personal diary. In beautiful handwriting, it was written, "Aparna" and below it said, "I tell tales." The phrase made me smile. Maybe it was a sarcastic one. We all tell tales. We tell tales of honesty, we tell tales of hating lies, we tell tales of staying together, we tell tales of infinite love, bla bla bla. Who says the truth?

I don't remember exactly how much effort I had to put to not to open that diary. My cats got killed by my curiosity, and I started flipping the pages. Something fell on my lap. A visiting card. 'Aparna Awasthi. Sapphire Gallery.' That's it. I got the address and the number. My phone started ringing as soon as I took it out. It was time for a rant.

"For heaven's sake, Rohan, don't tell me you are late again. You don't even remember today's client meeting. I want you here in 15 minutes." Call disconnected. I forgot what I had been doing. I was fortunate that my office was at arm's length from the metro station. I gingerly picked up the card, kept it in my wallet, and headed on.

The day had passed like a wink of an eye. And all that time, the only thing that I had in my mind was the lady with the diary. The night seemed to be a little different. I managed to think of something other than my forlornness and my failed relationship. With a failed attempt of acting normal, I took out my beer can from the fridge and sat with the diary. I started reading from a random page.

"Date: 16th Jan 2019

Some days are good. And some days are too good. Met an interesting human in my studio. He said that he was strolling on this road, and my gallery looks attractive from outside. (Idiotic smile on my face). His name is George. George Harper. He is also an artist and a little psycho, perhaps. I mean, he comes every year to India from Denver, Colorado to relish the culture of our country. Can anyone imagine, the culture of our country can fascinate someone, I mean seriously? (Giggles). Still, he is something. Too soon to say if I have a crush on him, but yes, it was something, apart from the painting connection. God knows!"

I despise love stories. It reminds me of the memories we had and those parts of memories which refuse to leave my abode. It starts with a similar type of sugar-coated story. Where I and my once upon a time love and wife Anya loved each other till infinity. At least, that's what I knew and felt. And one day, she failed to love me back and decided that we never meant to be together. It took four years for her to decide. I wanted to fight badly, argue, break every single thing that could evade my fury. But I am always too bad at expressing myself and too good to cling on and suffocate myself with my emotions to death. And this honey-like story should have been discouraging enough and refrain me from reading further. The odds today were not in my favor, and I continued anyway. I flipped through the diary again.

"Date: 20th Mar 2019

Can't believe it's already one month of me, and George being together. Is it why they say that love's heaven? Had it been three months back, I would have laughed my heart out at this quote but yes. I was wrong. Love is special. Love is infinity. And your person becomes your everything. Yet, I am scared sometimes. I had always been scared of happiness. I don't know why I feel like happiness always comes with something cursed. George should stay. I want him by my side. Forever. (Cross my heart)."

"Date: 15th May 2019

Oh my god! (In Jannice's voice) George proposed to me. Did he ask me to marry him? With his grandma's only diamond ring? It was no dream. I know it in my heart that I want this. And I said yes. But, we can't get married now. I mean, not anytime soon. He has to return to Denver after three days. Damn these visa rules. We have promised to keep this thing alive, and he will return asap. I can't be any happier. (Touchwood)"

"Date: 21st Aug 2019

Should I agree to my fortune? That it was all a dream. Or a nightmare. That George never even existed. He never came to my gallery. He never taught me his special technique of getting that perfect hue of dawn. We never fell in love. We never promised to stay together. And he never asked me to get married. Such a nice rewind it was. It's three months after he left, and I don't even know if he's alive."

I felt a jerk. I didn't even remember myself being envious anymore. It would have been too little to say that I was expecting this. But, this replica is the worst to happen in anyone's life.

The beer was gradually hitting me. Yet, I felt strangely sober to read more. With a little pang in my chest, the diary now felt heavier than it was. I turned the pages.

"Date: 23rd Dec 2019

The only thing I have learned in the past six months: life goes on. You move on. Time never stops. Now, I also belong to the group of humanoids. I wake up, put on a facade, paint, visit my gallery, return and surrender to a dreamless sleep. Yes, a dreamless sleep. Because dreams no more exist. But, deep in my heart, I still feel that something is not so right. George never cheated. My stars are concealing something which I should know. When I try to explain, these humans lecture me about depression and moving on, etc. I can't. Till I find out the truth, I can't."

I never realized when did sleep takeover me. For the first time in a while, I was able to sleep without battling my overthinking. For the first time in a while, I had notions of someone else. For the first time in a while, I was not cursing this thing called 'love' or my 'ex-wife.' And I slept to the fullest.

I woke up to the honking of a vehicle. I gave a glance at the wall clock. It was seven. I forgot about the diary that was still resting on my chest. The verses that I had absorbed the night before reappeared. I stared blankly at the words for how long, I don't know. Then slowly, I turned to the last page, I mean the page where she wrote something the last time.

"Date: 31st Jan 2020..."

I recalled that it's 2nd Feb today. She wrote it two days ago.

"I knew it. I just knew it always in my heart. George always used to say that love can't go wrong. And it never went wrong between us. It was always there. He never left me. So what if he can't come to me. I can go to him. Yes, I am going to Denver next month. Now nothing can stop me. Or stop us. This time, nothing can come between us."

I was confused. And happy. She got her love back. But why he can't come. I got impatient. I felt like my world will be a dead see till I get the rest of her tale. The next thing I did was make two calls. The first one to my boss for taking a french leave, and the second one to Aparna.

It took me two hours to reach her gallery. I gazed at the paintings which were displayed on the glass window. Maybe, I was trying to imagine how George had reacted while standing at this point looking at the paintings. I pushed the glass door and entered. There were all sorts of creations. Some landscapes and meadows, some portraits, some abstract, and much more.

I was staring at some pictures of dawn when a soft voice rang in my ears, "Yes? Do you like it? It's still unsold." I looked at the lady. A little short height and big eyes and short hair. I fumbled. "I am Rohan. I had called you!"

"Oh yes, hi, I am Aparna!"

She took me to her studio and gave me a chair to sit on. She ordered coffee for both of us despite my repetitive refusal. We sipped our coffee in silence. I returned her diary. She smiled and nodded.

I managed to get back my voice and uttered, "I am... I am sorry... I... I read it. Some parts of it. I shouldn't have, and I am on a guilt trip now. I couldn't help myself. It is extremely indecent of me. Sorry again."

She smiled. A real one this time.

"Who knows, I might have done the same. It's fine. Really!" She reassured.

"Can I ask you something?" I asked nervously.

"Sure!" She replied.

"What had kept you hanging onto life for so long? You had all the reasons to be broken. All the reasons to hate him. Exactly how much love do you need to not fall apart and still hold on? Again, what exactly happened to George?" I said the entire stuff in one breathe!

"About George, first, in June 2019, he met with a brutal accident. The car tumbled from a peak. Exactly where I don't know. He was unconscious for months due to a partial hemorrhage. It was in Jan, when he was finally in his senses and on his feet and that he was able to return to my 1021 emails, 2000 FB messages, 21,900 Whatsapp ping, and 4000 Insta DMs. He is still under treatment and unable to travel, of course. Now, that I know he's alright, I am going to his country."

"And my other question?" I interrupted.

"Yes, the second one." She cleared her throat. "Nobody knows exactly what amount of love you need to hold on to the person. I mean, how can we measure love? George always says this, you know, 'you should love if you want to understand what's infinity. And then only one can understand there's hardly anything on the earth called 'unlove'. We cannot unlove the person we had truly loved. In love, you only forgive. That's it!"

A flashback like a polaroid crossed my mind. Every moment of love and despondence I gave birth to. I never hated my wife. I hated myself for not loving her enough. Rather, I was punishing myself by trying to hate her. A miserable attempt to justify my feelings.

I wished her luck and came outside. I looked at the sky that looked colorful after ages. I took out my phone and called Anya.

"Hello, Anya! Rohan here!"

I must have startled her as I had called her after an eternity. "Hi, Rohan. All good?" She didn't have to pretend to be surprised.

"I wanted to say that..." I took a deep breath and continued, "I know it took me long, but now, Anya, I understand you. I now know that you were never wrong. Your love for him isn't wrong, and the time we had been together, even that wasn't wrong. If anything that went wrong was my mind and my ego.

I forgive you. I forgive you now for everything. Wishing you a good life."

I didn't wait for an answer. I disconnected the call. I was in a hurry to connect with myself this time!