3 pm

Ding, dong!

The shrill noise of the doorbell broke the heavy silence that currently occupied the house at 1521 Rosewood Way, Minneapolis, Minnesota. The floor creaked as fifty-four-year-old Chinmayi Venkatesan walked from the kitchen and looked through the peephole before opening the door. She managed to catch a glimpse of the delivery UPS truck leaving the driveway. She glanced at the name of the sender as she picked up the cardboard box at the doorstep. Finish Line. “I am going to have to talk to Ram about his shoe addiction when he returns,” she thought to herself as she walked back to the kitchen.

Chinmayi got to the stove just as the water in the pot started boiling. The water hissed as she added three scoops of tea powder to the simmering pot, and the delightful smell of chai filled the house. Some minutes later, she poured a cup of whole milk into the pot and watched as the mixture inside turned a skin color. After a few more minutes, the tea was ready to be served and savored. She poured the liquid through a filter into a pastel green flask and made sure she tightened the lid. She hoped it would stay warm for the next couple of hours. She got dressed and wore her N95 mask over her face.

The hospital was a ten-minute drive away. Two months ago, she thought they would be spending this day in Tokyo. She had planned their trip perfectly to make sure she was there with Ram during the cherry blossom season. Chinmayi had made detailed itineraries for the two weeks they were scheduled to visit Japan. Alas, fate had other plans. Soon, Chinmayi was at the entrance to Prairie Medical Center. She cleared the security check at the door, where her temperature was taken to make sure she wasn’t sick. She took the elevator to the tenth floor.

“I am here to see Sriram Ganesh, “she told the receptionist at the check-in counter outside the heavy doors leading to the ICU.

“Thank you. Please wait here for a few minutes,” said the receptionist as she motioned towards the empty row of seats to her left.

Chinmayi took one of the chairs beside a large, glass window overlooking a parking garage, and carefully set the tea flask on a side table next to her. She allowed herself to lean back and gently closed her eyes. She felt a lone drop of tear rolling out of her left eye. Everything felt surreal to her. Her husband had been healthy and fit just two weeks back, as fit as any fifty-five-year old man could have been. Yet here he was, five months later, struggling to breath on his own. She glanced at her watch. twenty minutes to three. She hoped she could get inside to meet him by their usual ‘tea date’ time.

Sriram Ganesh and Chinmayi Venkatesan didn’t meet until about six months into their undergraduate degree in Trichy, India. He was a Physics major, while she was studying Biology. They got introduced through a mutual friend. Chinmayi needed help with statistics, and her friend suggested she get help from Ram. The first time they met at the tea shop next to the college, they spoke for five hours, mostly about statistics. Subsequent meetings were less about statistics and more about each other. It was love at first sight for Ram, but he wouldn’t tell her until about a month after. They went on their first date at the same tea shop they had met for the statistics help session. Since Ram took classes in the day, and Chinmayi had all her classes in the evening, 3 pm was the only time both of them were available, so that is when they decided to meet.

“Anna, rendu tea! Strong, please!” exclaimed Ram as he gestured to the owner with two fingers while they sat down. The conversation was awkward at first, both of them exuding nervous energy about this being their first official date. Eventually, they grew comfortable, and the natural chemistry they had for each other was visible to anyone who happened to glance upon them sitting together. She had grown fond of him by the time their first date ended. He was already head over heels in love with her.

Their ‘tea dates’ continued at the same tea shop for the next two years until they graduated from college. Ram then moved to the USA for his Master’s degree. Chinmayi joined him at the same university a year later for her PhD. It was a foregone conclusion that they were going to get married. It was merely a formality when he proposed to her two years later when he got his job offer. She happily said yes and kissed him on his lips. They had two weddings that year, one in India, another in the USA.

Even after getting married, the ‘tea date’ became a daily ritual. By chance, their workplaces were a five-minute drive apart. So, they almost always met at 3 pm every day for a hot cup of tea, with either Ram driving to her office, or Chinmayi driving to his. The tradition had continued on and on for more than thirty years. They decided early on not have any children, so they fostered pets and traveled the world. In the past twenty years, they had been to sixteen countries. Even during their travel abroad, they eternally had 3 pm everyday allocated for their ‘tea date’ time. They had made five visits to Japan alone. Chinmayi had fallen in love with the people and culture of Japan, Ram had fallen for the matcha green tea. And that is where they would have been today, if not for him falling sick.

They had been monitoring the spread of the virus in China, Japan and South Korea in late January and early February. Coronavirus was what they called it. Chinmayi remained hopeful that they could still visit Japan as long as they didn’t close the borders. But things were looking bleak. By late February, it was apparent that the trip would not be happening, as the disease ravaged unchecked across the world. They canceled their flights in the first week of March. Being in a higher risk category, both Chinmayi and Ram decided to stay home unless absolutely necessary, as they started hearing reports about infections in their city. One day in the second week of March, he started experiencing fits of dry coughs along with a high fever. His entire body was in tremendous pain. Ram had hoped that it was just the flu, but he secretly feared the worst. The worst it had been. He tested positive for Covid-19 two days later when he had to be taken to the hospital in an ambulance after he stopped breathing one morning. This was his tenth day at the hospital, and his second in the ICU.

It was almost 3 pm when the doctor came out of the doors leading to the ICU and told her the terrible news. Ram’s condition had worsened significantly over the past two hours, and pneumonia had ravaged his lungs. Respirators hadn’t helped, and they hadn’t been able to save him. Chinmayi fell back in her chair shocked, her arm hitting the flask as she did so, splashing tea all over the waiting area.

TL2565 watched as the counter kept flashing increasingly alarming numbers. He took a sip of hot tea from the mug on his desk and stood up from his chair. He walked along the brightly lit corridor to the office with the door sign ‘TL2’. He knocked on the door twice.

“Come in!” a deep voice answered.

“Ma’am, we lost a hundred more humans in the past ten minutes. Surely, we cannot let this continue?” TL2565 asked his superior.

TL2 sighed. She and the other time lords had been monitoring the pandemic from the very beginning. It was never intended to be so fatal. She had known for a while now that it had to be done. Something she had failed to do in 1347, 1914 and 1939 CE.

“Fine, let’s reboot 2020 CE,” she said solemnly. “This time make sure it is contained. I will deal with the repercussions, if any, from TL1.”

“As you say, ma’am.” TL2565 said as he walked to the red button on one of the walls inside the office labeled “REBOOT” and pressed it.

Ding, dong!

The shrill noise of the doorbell broke the heavy silence that currently occupied the building at 1 Chome-22-4 Horifune, Kita City, Tokyo. The floor creaked as forty-year-old Matsuri Watanabe walked from the kitchen and looked through the peephole before opening the door. She broke into a warm smile as she opened the door to greet her guests.

“Konichiwa, Mr and Mrs Sriram Ganesh, welcome to Tokyo! I am your AirBnB hostess, Matsuri Watanabe. Please come in and have a complimentary matcha tea before you head to your rooms!”

Love

Love. It is very hard isn't it? Being in love. It certainly brings unbound joy and amazing experiences on several occasions. But sometimes, it only gives you pain and sadness. And during those especially sad moments, it is incredibly painful and agonizing. You can tell fairy tales are made up simply because most of them do not talk about these hard times. They mostly focus on the happily ever afters.

 

Bright. Some of those thoughts were firing in my brain when I was walking on the trail around Stow Lake in San Francisco that Sunday afternoon. It was an incredibly bright, sunny, and fog-less day after a considerable streak of cold days, so it seemed like the entire population of the city was spending their day at Golden Gate Park. A few minutes of walking later, I found a bench far enough from the rest of the crowd, just under the shade of a large tree. I sat down and stared straight ahead at nothing in particular. I had a good view of the lake and the trail going around it. Dozens of boats were milling about the lake, each one carrying either a small group or a couple, causing a mini traffic jam every now and then. A young couple was walking their dog on the trail, waving back at the excited kids who were waving at them from some of the boats. The dog was wagging her tail displaying her own excitement and joy.

That could have been us, I thought to myself. But you screwed it all up. Now she is most likely gone, and things will never be the same.

Pain. I never thought one could feel so much pain and hurt without any physical injury or trauma. Every waking second reminded me of what I did, how I managed to lose her affection. The love of my life. My best friend. My stomach grumbled to remind me that I had skipped both breakfast and lunch that day. I had been eating erratically for the past couple of days, ever since the conflict. She wouldn't eat anything I made for her since then either. I got concerned after a few hours, and called our doctor to ask for help. He suggested that I take her to a friend's place for a change of scenery for a few days. After a lot of cajoling, I managed to drop her off at her friend Emma's place where she had been doing good for the most part.

Sleep. I turned around, stretched my legs on the bench, and closed my eyes. Sleep was my only escape from the constant pain. Not that I slept soundly the past two nights. I missed her cuddle, how she would lay on the bed next to me, hug me and put her head on my chest. It was the best feeling in the world, and I would just go straight to sleep with a smile, feeling all her love. Last night I got into bed and stared at the ceiling for a long time, eyes tired but unwilling to close. The neurons in my brain constantly firing, bringing back the memories of how badly I screwed up.

Anger. I was mad at myself for losing my mind that day. The day it all went down. I had just come home after a long and frustrating day at work, tired and hungry. She had been nagging me for something that evening, I don't recall now what it was for. But after a few minutes, I got into a fit of temper, and had screamed at her to shut up. In her shock, she knocked over my phone which was on the coffee table on to the floor, and the screen broke with a loud, cracking sound. At that point, I completely lost it, and slapped her hard on the back. I still shuddered thinking about it. That was it. She simply walked away from me to the bedroom. She wouldn't eat anything, or respond to any of my apologies. I remember how the look in her eyes changed. Something broke in her when she realized I had hit her. When I went to sleep next to her on the bed, she woke up and went to the couch. I cried to sleep that night.

Tired. I got up from the bench, and walked back to my car. As I was driving home, I remembered our road trips together. She loved traveling in the car with me, taking the highway to a distant and exciting place. Sometimes I would put my right arm on her, and she would sleep hugging my arm. I missed caressing her ear while she slept on my arm. The car still smelled like her. I missed her so much. Google Maps had detected an accident on my usual route home, so it was now redirecting me through a slightly longer route. As I stood waiting at a light, I looked around and saw that I was actually stopped next to her favorite store. The store that made the one dish she liked more than any other food in the world. Could it possibly work?

Hope. I parked my car, and got my order in for her dish. After a few minutes of waiting, I got my bag of food, and drove straight to Emma's house, texting my friend that I was on my way there. I walked in to the house, and I could see her sitting next to Emma in the living room. She saw me and turned her back towards me with deliberation. Heartbroken, I sat on the floor next to her, desperate to catch her eye. I told her I was sorry, and I would never hit her again. I told her I realized I broke her trust, and I hoped that she would forgive me and come back home with me. I then opened the bag of food I had. The smell of peanut butter filled the air in the room. I knew she could smell it too. She turned and looked at the cake I had in my hands. Then looked at me. It was full of love and forgiveness. I knew then, that she had forgiven me. I hugged her and cried.

Home. When we came home that afternoon, I told her that I loved her very much and that she was my world. I sat on the couch, and she ran to me and sat on my lap. I scratched her ear the way she liked it. She grinned at me. Later that evening, I took her to the dog park, where she met Emma again, this time in happier circumstances. They took turns chasing the ball, and she was completely spent in an hour. When I went to bed that night, she curled up next to me and put her head on my chest.

I love you Phoebe, I whispered to her. She answered back with a gentle bark of love.