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!”

The Lilliput

Saturday, July 11 2009

It was nearly evening when I reached Senate Hall where the specimen was to be kept for display. The place was crowded with so many people such that it looked as if there was a carnival going on. The excitement was understandable. The discovery was amazing, almost next to impossible.

Before this, people had discovered fossils of new dinosaurs, a few Jurassic age insects, and stuff like that. But a new species that resembled Homo sapiens, preserved in an amber fossil? Too much to resist. The media had given full coverage of the discovery, with every news channel and newspaper in the world making it their headline. It was even nicknamed ‘The Lilliput’ by The New York Times. Being a biologist myself, it was quite hard to believe that such a species should exist. But the news was released only after a dozen genetic tests had been conducted by the best genetic engineers in the world. It was indeed a new species. Quite astounding.

After moving past the huge crowd at the entrance, I entered into the heavily guarded hall, thanks to the visitors pass given to me by my good friend Roberts, who was one of the engineers who did the DNA tests. I learnt from him the full details of the genetic makeup of the organism. It closely resembled the human genome, with about 99.9% similarity, he had said. I also learnt that it was planned to name the new species Homo lilliputiens. And it was a male. As I entered the hall, the first thing I noticed was the heavy air-conditioning that was in place, because I started to shiver in the cold. The hall was filled with scientists from different parts of the world discussing about the latest sensation to hit science.

I searched for Roberts, and after a brief search, I found him talking with a beautiful young female scientist. As soon as I went near him, he saw me and excused himself from her and came towards me with a face with worry written all over it. Before I could ask him what was wrong he himself said, “The specimen is alive.”

I couldn’t believe what he said. It was impossible. An organism preserved inside an amber fossil, alive? But before I could voice my protests to him, he caught my arm and took me inside a heavily guarded room at the back of the hall with a powerful laminar hood at the entry to remove the dust and microbial particles from the visitors' body. The door led to a room that was dimly lit, with a couple of armed security men standing guard. In the centre of the room was a glass hood with the specimen inside it. The room was more heavily air-conditioned than the hall.

I heard Roberts say, “See for yourself”. And as I approached the hood, I could make out a miniature organism inside the amber fossil. When I finally reached the hood, I saw it. It was indeed a miniature human. The face was distinct, with eyes, nose, ears and mouth clearly visible. It also had the limbs of a human. But it wasn’t moving. It was as still as if it were dead. A couple of ultra-thin wires were connected to its limbs. The wires led to an ECG which was showing read-outs. It was indeed alive!!

“How is it still alive??” I asked

“That’s a good question. The problem now is we don’t know if the organism is safe enough to humans. Actually we tried killing it as soon as we knew it was alive. We tried all the methods that will instantly kill a man - poison, high voltage, and all other stuff. But it is still alive. That means it is almost immortal.”

“What do we do now? What have you guys decided to do?” I wanted to know.

“We plan to postpone its display to the media and the scientists by another month. And we transfer this to a high security storage area and study it more closely. We don’t want the world to know that it is still alive.” He said.

I just couldn’t speak. The enormity of the situation was astounding. I just stood there watching the Lilliput. It was clearly a man in miniature. As I stood watching it, suddenly many things happened at once. It started wriggling, as if it wanted to break free from the amber fossil. Suddenly the amber cracked and the organism fell out. Then, it started shivering and shaking and then everything stopped and it became still.

Sunday, July 12 2009

It was almost noon when the report came. Roberts studied it for a moment, smiled and handed over the report to me for me to read it. I wondered what was amusing in it as I studied the report.

“After the autopsy, it is clear that the organism died of oxygen poisoning. This can be possible because the atmosphere in which it lived was almost devoid of oxygen and was predominantly carbon dioxide. So, as soon as it got exposed to the high oxygen concentration environment, its respiratory system failed and it died instantly.”