Quicksand

 

Quicksand

 In our three-dimensional existence, time is like a linear path that stays within reach yet moves beyond our comprehension. It is a unit we can measure; we can flow with it and cause significant improvements and damage to us, considering our movements respective to the said linear path. Although sometimes, even the slightest alteration to this path brings irreversible and irreparable carnage to our life, changing everything we ever knew or dared to dream of in its wake. 

Sipping on a steaming cup of tea while sitting by the large French window of his hotel room, Kaustav was gazing at the grayish landscape laying before his eyes with a forlorn look in his eyes. It is a typical morning routine that he had developed during his biannual business tours to the countryside of West Sussex. Today, the air carried a vibrant smell of freshly showered earth and ripe fruits from the nearby hotel gardens, thanks to the early morning shower. On another day, this morning would have been a perfect excuse for a short trip to the local wine estate and a prolonged stay to roam around the brilliant countryside, but today was different. He was going to be a father. Manish’s wife was awaiting to delivery of their angel the next day, and he was desperate to be there with them and hold her hand to witness the most anticipated moment of his life.

 

As he remembered his wife's smiling face, he smiled despite his current situation. His anxious fingers kept folding and unfolding a corner of his almost worn-out t-shirt while looking at the gloomy stubborn skyline. After the morning rain, he expected the day to brighten up, followed by a comfortable flight schedule, and him reaching his home on time. However, his plans seemed almost a joke now. He sighed and kept the cup on the saucer with a little extra force than necessary, making a noise that grated against his ears. The cup might have chipped at some part, he noted; but couldn’t bother less. He was a bit preoccupied at the moment. He had to reach Tampa by night. As the thunder roared in the eastern sky, it only made him grit his teeth in annoyance. His wristwatch read five past nine. Can the weather still get better in the next few hours? He only prayed. Unknown to him, the thunder grumbled, again. As if mad at him, warning him of the future.

 

A blow of gutsy wind took away his new umbrella as he stepped down from the taxi in front of the London Gatwick airport. The typically chilly February weather of West Sussex was worse, thanks to the rain from earlier that morning. Walking on the streets of England wearing those long black trench coats had been his teenage, especially being a Sherlock fan. But with the wet, chilly wind blowing to his face that was creating a wrestling match between his upper and lower sets of teeth, it didn't feel like a dream at all. He sent a small prayer upward and pulled at his luggage. Unbeknown to him, the fast-approaching cloud in the eastern sky kept growing darker as if a messenger from the doom himself.

 

An announcement about a delay in schedule due to weather troubles started picking on his nerves. As he was losing himself in worry, he heard his phone ring. On picking up at the second ring, a small smile grew on his face. It was his best friend and wife, Megha. “Hey, where are you right now?”, he heard her grumble from the other end and the little line of a smile grew into a complete grin. “How is our angel doing?”, Kaustav asked with excitement with a little worry hidden beneath his voice. “Don’t worry, she is fine. But, where are you? Is the weather, OK? Are sure it’s safe for you to fly right now?” She asked, her voice laced with worry. “Megh, I am OK. The weather, not so much. But it will be OK. I will be OK. You will be fine. Our Angel will be fine. And I will see you soon. I love you.” His voice choked suddenly, for some weird reason. “Baba will be there with our little Angel soon. He loves her". His voice wobbled, shocking him a little but he recovered soon enough. Everything is fine, he repeated in his mind. He heard her sigh from the other side of the phone and he threw a kiss at the speaker making her giggle. It only made his heart pick up speed.

 

 

As he got to his seat by the window, he giggled. He was worrying for apparently nothing. The sky was clear, and they were about to take off. Once the safety sign was off, he relaxed and looked out of the window. All his fights with Megha over the window seat, only for him to give up at the end, made Kaustav yearn for her even more. He couldn't wait to return to her and hold her in his arms. He couldn't wait to have their baby in his arms and rock her till she fell asleep. He couldn't wait to fight over the window seat with their daughter. With his thoughts wandering further, his eyes grew heavy. Tampa Bay was now a distant land in his dream, a beautiful dream at the end of the tunnel beckoning toward a wonderful future.

 

_______________________

 

He did not know how long he has been sleeping when he felt his body shaking violently. Disoriented from his nap, it took him some time to adjust and understand what was happening around him. Before his mind could process its surroundings, another heavy jolt shook him awake. He noticed the terrified looks on everyone's faces, once he looked around to take into the surroundings. An announcement from the pilot about flying through heavy turbulence registered in his mind. Suddenly, he remembered everything. His sudden business trip to England, the urgent flight he booked from Gatwick to Tampa Bay, his pregnant wife, and their unborn daughter; everything was now playing in his mind as if a clip from some doomed movie. Just like the protagonist from an apocalyptic film denying the obvious clues only to finally register the helplessness, he realized the reality of his situation. He was flying. He remembered how his cup chipped earlier that morning. Even for a non-believer, he believed that jinx. The last time his cup chipped like this, his wife had rejected his marriage proposal. Today... He didn't want to think anymore. As his mind started racing, his heart sped up and he broke into a cold sweat.

 

To reign into his thought, Kaustav decided to direct his thoughts elsewhere. From his knowledge, he was flying in a British Airways Boeing 777 jet, or was it a Dreamliner? He couldn't remember. All he could remember was the safety records of the Boeing 777. Not anything stellar but no fatal accidents in the last 50 years. ‘Please God, don't let the record change. Not today. I need to see my daughter.’ His mind kept chanting repeatedly. As the oxygen masks started dropping unprompted, he felt his body physically protesting against what he was seeing. He didn't want to believe; he didn't want to see what was happening. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, as if ready to come off. He felt hot bile rising up his throat. No, he couldn't die. Not today, not before seeing and holding his Angel in his arms. Not before holding his wife and seeing her becoming a mother, finally. Not before becoming a father after all these years of prayers and visits to every doctor possible. He deserved to see her at least once. How could fate be this cruel to him? He didn't understand.

 

Only a few hours ago he was planning their future together. How can they become the last wish of a dying man, so soon? His daughter. His angel. He wanted to teach her to walk, he wanted to braid her hair, teach her to cycle, play ball, or swing a bat hard. He wanted to read bedtime stories to her and later, much later, when she would learn to read books, he wanted to listen to her talking about her book boyfriends to him, just like her mother used to, all those years ago. He would make sure that his daughter chooses the perfect suitor in the real world, no matter whether it's a man or a woman. He wanted to go to the movies with his daughter, play cards with her, and take her to her annual day. He wanted to be an ordinary dad and has dreamt so on so many lazy nights that nothing else looked like a possibility to him. Until today, when the repulsive oxygen masks started dropping in front of him, swinging in the air violently, as if they had nothing better to do. All the crying and screaming, all the begging to God around him were making him feel worse.

 

Suddenly, a realization crushed him. His Angel won't know him. Ever? Would she never know her dad? She would never get to come to him when someone bullies her at school. She won't have him to hold her fingers when crossing the road. She won't have him embarrass her in front of her friends. She won't have him to hug her, to comfort her on a bad day. Angry tears streamed down his face, his heart thundering in his ears.

 

His desperate attempt to keep reality away from him was fading into the turbulent horizon fast. With shaking arms, he took his cell phone out and dialed 911. They had crossed the US border a few hours ago, he knew. "Hello, how may I help you?" he heard the operator's soothing voice and an ugly sob ripped away from his throat. Even the calm voice of this operator was grating into his nerves. How can someone be so calm, so oblivious to this world's horrors when he is going to die? Why is he going through this? His anger, though he knew was unreasonable, seemed logical to him. He gulped air through his dry mouth, steadying his voice. "Hi", he replied with great resolve, his voice shaking with grief, anger, and resignation. "I am calling from flight 2167, British Airways and we are flying through high turbulence. Our chances..." he felt his throat choke and could hear the operator's breath fasten, most probably realizing what they were going to hear from him, "look slim." "Sir", he heard the panic in the operator's voice. "No, please, let me speak. I don't have time but I need to speak." He pleaded, voice breaking. "Would you... would you... Can you please, send this message from me to my wife and daughter?"

 

He heard the soft yes from the other side. "Hey Megh, it's me, your best friend, and your idiot husband. I should have... I should have listened to you and boarded the next flight. I wanted to... but, it doesn't look like I would make it before time. Baby, I love you. I am sorry for not being there when you need me the most." His voice caught in his throat and he cried out desperately, but drew a smile to his voice quickly, "Baby, you need to stay strong. For both you and our angel. Because she would need both me and you and now, it looks like, she would need to find both of us in you. I love you. I love you too, Angel. So much more than you can ever imagine. I wanted to do so much with you, to... teach you how to walk, ride bikes, and how cook the yummiest lasagna. I wanted to be your best friend, just like I was to your mother. I wanted to make you proud and embarrassed."

 

"Baby, I am sorry that can't be there with you, that I can't hold your hand but I will always stay by your side, walking your paths, together. Side by side. Hopefully, without any conjuring style surprises.” He chuckled, despite the angry tears running down his cheeks. “Can you make our daughter fall in love with cheesy romances like me? Can you balance a single watch of Notebook between your MCU or Harry Potter marathons? Can you love her for both of us? Can you tell her a few little tales of her idiot father where I look a little intelligent? And, can... can you promise to fall in love again, with someone else? Who can make you smile? I will love you even then, and you would not be betraying me. You would need someone when angel grows up. Do not… Please, live..."

 

And... the voice broke. A few minutes of static noise ended in a deafening silence and a stubborn scream left the operator. Without a name or address, it was going to be difficult. But she was determined to help his last message reach his wife.

 

__________________________________

 

A woman was lying down on the hospital bed, gazing at the grey sky. It was surprisingly raining here today. With her name being Megha, she had always felt a strong attachment to clouds and rain. Now, it only made her angry. A few tears rolled down her eyes and soaked the white linen of her hospital pillow. Their Angel, Pari was sleeping in a crib just a few inches away from her. She was only seven days old yet had lost something so precious to her. Her heart ached for Pari and also herself. However, it ached a little more for Kaustav. She felt her heart twist and a sob escaped her lips. With it, she felt a rush of anger in her bones. She asked him to delay his schedule. But as always, he was stubborn and ignored her advice. ‘Why Kaustav?’ A soft scream escaped through her sob and she clenched her fist.

 

One moment and everything could have been different. Only if she had tried to stop him that day when he was leaving for the business trip. Only if she was scheduled for a later date. Only if she could have stopped boarding that flight. Only if, his business trip wasn’t scheduled for that day. Only if… she closed her eyes with a deep sigh. A few more tears rolled down her eyes. There were so many ifs in her life right now but, none of them produced any answer. She was now only an odd cloud, without a proper address, or a destination. Her eyes found Pari once again. Kaustav’s Angel. Or, maybe, she had a destination in her life. One last goal, before the clouds in her, can finally rest in some ocean.