PROLOGUE

May, 2000, Hyderabad

I’m sitting in this tiny printing press room designing the final version of the magazine that was going to be printed that night. It’s 7pm in the evening. I had no money on me that day and I had not eaten anything since morning. The land phone in the other room rings.

“Anil, it’s for you.”

“Hello?”

It was Her.

“Anil, you haven’t eaten anything since morning, right?”

Damn!

“No.”

But how did She know?”

THE SEEKER

Present, May 2016, New York City

A couple of incidents in the last week have led to this peculiar introspection.

The context to this narrative is of my being away from my wife for the last several weeks. We are at the opposite ends of the world. We miss each other terribly and as a result spend many hours chatting with each other online. My wife, in fact, hasn’t been able to sleep much during these last many weeks. I’m faring a little better than her. Just barely.

The first incident relates to my wife’s friend who found this entire situation weird. He asked her, “how can you love each other so much that you cannot even sleep?” He was a little annoyed seeing his friend in such a hapless state.

The second incident happened on my side in New York last week when a bunch of us were sitting on the sidewalk and having a meal. I was telling the group about how I first met my wife seventeen years back and thought she was the one. One of my co-workers, a young Russian in his late twenties, shot back,

“Oh, that’s how people make themselves believe after all the years!” I was a little startled and thought, “wow, what a skeptic.” He went on to tell me very cleverly, how out of seven billion people, it is statistically impossible to actually meet somebody who was just made for us.

My wife and I discussed this and she asked me why I love her so much that each passing day feels like actual pain? I said I will try and write my feelings why I love her so much. If you got this far, I think you will find it interesting…

My simple argument to begin with…

I’m born in this world not as a single individual but as a soul that rebooted its journey, seemingly unshackled but not really…

I grew up in a loving family of parents and two sisters. As every happy child, I was oblivious to these matters of the soul. However, as i grew up, I sometimes experienced these moments, odd ones–seeing a flower, a distant cloud illuminated by the setting sunrays, a poignant melody–I felt my heart throb and skip a beat, as if my soul was seeking something. I never could put my finger on it as these were isolated moments that seemed scattered in a sea of phenomenon.

In my early youth, my father’s passing away plunged my mind into a deep region that I never before accessed. I started living in this space for several months, seeking answers to some simple questions such as ‘who I am’ what are my roots?’ To give you context, I had somehow miraculously dug myself into a hole by this stage of my life–a college dropout, doing odd jobs, and a meaningless social circle. Enough about that as I want to come back to my yearning soul that was intensely demanding answers…

As I mentioned, my mind was living many layers below surface level.

My everyday routine was spent in between silent meditation sessions, reading books on philosophy (left behind by my dad), listening to songs that moved my spirit, and writing down my thoughts in a diary. This I did for several months during which time I gave up my social circle, even cut away from a relationship that was intensely self damaging. And so, here I was, alone, in a deep space, freely conversing with my inner self, and capturing figments of that conversation in my diary. This phase of my life allowed me to form an everlasting relationship with nature. The most beautiful moments of my days and weeks would be simple everyday moments–breathing, inhaling life inside and exhaling, letting go of all that made me tired, the sun as it rose and set, the moon and her moonlight, the chiming temple bell, the fluttering birds dotting the pale blue sky.

THE MUSE

As destiny would have it, my day job ended up as a writer in a startup city magazine run by a couple of dear friends. I would cover the happenings of the month topped by a cherry of an interview with some eminent personality belonging to the classic arts. For example, I would meet a danseuse, write about her and her incredible talent and would find hidden inspirations that would connect me back to my deeper inner self. Through my meetings with the maestros of dance and music, I could feel the work of an indescribable force chipping away, slowly taking the shape of a muse that started inhabiting the center of my space. Every turn I took, something in nature would add to that shape, giving it more and more form and life, until one day, I could see her each time I entered my space. To an observer, this was whenever I used to slip into my meditation sessions. She was there, sitting, silent, head bowed, holding a dia in her cupped hands. The only sound in my sanctum sanctorum was of the rustling silk and the clang of the bangles and nothing else. I knew I was on to something precious. I would see my muse in my inner world from time to time. Sitting on the banks of a huge lake illuminated by an iridescent moon, sometimes in a forest, near a waterfall. Even in my everyday life, I would see her as the full moon lighting up the night sky keeping me company as I would walk back home after a busy day.

In a largely silent world of this man, she was his companion for a little more than a year since his father passed. My soul was just approaching a quarter of a century in this current cycle of birth. Something was about to happen but I had no clue. It was a new year and I got one of those rare opportunities to mingle in a large social gathering–the wedding of my friend, as well as my employer.

And there I met her.

If you reflect on what you have read so far, you must be wondering, “oh, he is one of those poetic, hopeless romantic types,” all of which is true. I saw her come up to the terrace and felt every moment of my life that had made my soul yearn come together and connect. I matched her with the muse in my temple and they fit each other perfectly! The essence of every favorite song and melody seemed to trace their journey back to her. On her shining forehead, I saw writ my destiny, “She is the one, the mother of my children.”

You will also empathise with my situation when I tell you that I did not have the slightest clue of how to tell her about my discovery. I would just look at her silently, with only my eyes as proof of what lay hidden beneath. As truth be my witness, the power of my seeking soul could not be underestimated. It did everything during those four days of the wedding to woo her and make her believe in it. It found little successes too. It sang for her in the wedding while my eyes remained close only to be stunned to find her sitting right in front of me on opening my eyes. It wrote a poem for Valentine’s that somehow coincided with the coming month’s run at the printing press. Somehow, my pen (I think of it as my father’s legacy), managed to make her take notice of me. Nothing more, just that, take notice.

The affairs of the heart are mysterious indeed. To my utter disbelief, I realized I was gifted a windfall when she started visiting our apartment-turned-office the next few weeks to learn a little about computers and internet. Needless to say, my over joyous soul, spent the best time of his life looking forward to every afternoon when she would come from her day job. We had a routine. I would be inside in one of the rooms in front my desktop. She would come in through the front door and spend some time at the reception area, saying hello to her cousin (the one who got married). I would have a poem or passage ready for her to read. She would come in and say ‘hi’ and I would hand over my journal to her. She would go through it and something would connect, and my soul would pirouette! Somehow, through good fortune, I was able to introduce our Seeker to his Muse without anybody in the universe having the slightest clue, least of all, her! Even then, you can understand that there was this yawning gap between my inner world and the real world outside. The Seeker grew bold as the days went by. One afternoon, he sat on my fingertips, and reached out to touch her lips that shocked her!

“Nobody touched my lips. Ever!”

I thought I had burned my fingers. But it happened to be a pivotal moment in our relationship. It was the first gesture of expression from the Seeker. It was shocking and powerful.

Some afternoons later, taking a small break from work, we were standing in the balcony admiring the yellow spring flowers and I lit a cigarette. In that moment, she reached out, flicked away the offending appendage right out of my lips. “Don’t smoke again. Ever.” I was left staring at her. I just nodded. After that day, I quit smoking.

I guess, the thing I’m trying to say is that the Muse was influencing my real world habits. It was a gesture that sowed the seeds of a very important development in my life, the beginning of turning myself into a stronger-willed person.

So here we were, the Seeker making tiny overtures and the Muse reacting, by no means suggestive but at the same time not missing in authentic emotion. The summer was drawing to a close and she was at the end of these magical visits to my office. She was fighting her own battles, far larger than this summer interlude and one day she shut the door. She stopped coming to the office as she had gotten into a better job that consumed her life fully. As the Seeker knew the first moment he saw her, she was a woman of purpose. He read it on her shining forehead. While my heart sank at her abrupt disappearance, my Seeker knew this would happen one day.

But it had trained me well. While the world outside was limited in my not being able to see her, my world within was unlimited. It expanded as days slipped into weeks and into several months. My Seeker continued his conversations with her every day. I remember walking home 16km one late night continuously watching the large white moon hanging in the sky. My journal expanded as pages filled out with my experiences. Not for one moment during those days did I feel lonely. What I did not realize fully until later is that it was her and her character that gave me the power to endure those long months of separation. In my own way, I was testing our love for its strength. Was it real? Or was it just infatuation? But as months went by, I realized that my love only grew stronger. I became more resolute.

Soon after, I met a beautiful actress as a result of an interview and quickly formed a friendship that made the Seeker confess his love story. The actress was so moved by the story that she started spending more time over the next several months. On my birthday, she visited my office bearing twenty six roses. It deeply touched me. I could see in her eyes that she was asking me a question. We sat and talked for some time. I went down to see her off and the last thing she said before leaving was,

“Mark my word, you will hear from her.” I never saw the actress again.

The incident propelled the Seeker to do something totally unexpected one day. He decided to write a poem to his muse. It was the day before her birthday. Exactly two years since we first met on the terrace. He named the poem “My Dear Darling Dear.” Somehow, the time had come to explicitly tell her about what she really meant to me. The contents eloquently touched on how much he has been yearning to belong to her ever since he got separated from her somewhere along the journey. Here is how it reads…

MY DEAR DARLING DEAR

Caption: This is a photo featuring our poem that we framed on our first anniversary.

How I wish I were with you
Every heart of my every past birth
Whispers it love
Through pain and joy

Were ever happiness dare
Walk out of your door
I shall sell my last fortune
To bring it back to you

My love
There is the future
To share and give
My labor is not of wanting
As much as giving
To you of myself
In the end to myself

How is it in mere words
Do I say?
That you are my whole
And not half
For I’m nothing not even half
Without you.

On the eve of your birthday, I find it important–to myself and to you–to unlock my feelings. My deep love for you has been here in my heart forever. Not a day, yesterday, today, this moment or next has ever passed nor will without my love for you. It is a very simple yet eternal bond that lies nestled in my heart. Its existence has a great meaning to my life. And to yours if you may so wish, if you awaken to it. We can love each other until we teach each other what life is. Until we leave this world and beyond. Learn all the secrets together. For you are a strong woman. And no matter what visions your heart may rouse hereafter, you will have my love and utmost respect for a long, long time to come. Godspeed and best wishes. Rest, you know where to find me. I remain in love.

Anil

Jan 10, 2000

Urged by an irresistible force, I mailed the poem, not knowing if she was even available. The address on our mailing list was the only connection I had to her.

As I said earlier, the affairs of the heart are mysterious and magical. Seven days later, I was about to leave to interview a newly opened go-karting business. The phone rang. The guy sitting at the reception took the call and said it was for me. I saw a slight smile on his face and I somehow knew it was her.

“Hello Lalitha.”

“Hi.”

Pause.

“How are you?”

“How did you know it was me?

“I don’t know…”

“I called to tell you not to write such letters to me in future.”

“Okay. I won’t. But can we talk?”

Pause.

“Yes.”

After nearly eighteen months, that’s all we could say to each other. I went for my interview and came back later that night to the office and called her. We spoke for a hour. Next day, we spoke for two hours. We spoke everyday for the next thirty days. As I had no phone at my house, I would come back to the office post dinner and sit for hours talking to her. She would ask me, “why did you take so long to get back to me?”

Then I realized. The Seeker was always ready. He was just waiting for me to grow up. He saw me drift from my path. He waited. Before he brought her into my life, he saw to it that I found my roots again. He showed me the vision of how great my father truly was. He gave me the pen. He let me dive deep into my inner world and find her. He resurrected my purpose before leading me to her. He gave me a chance to see her in flesh and blood. To know what it feels like to see her in the middle of everyday moments of a sunrise, amongst yellow spring flowers, the touch of her lip, to making her my moonlight. He made her story–of hard work, of purpose, and of family–mine.

The following months were a period of pure joy. She reentered my life just like before–as spring. This time, she came to me with a force that swept me away. Everyday was a new makeover.

Her first action, “we need new shoes for you.”

“We need to get you your own two-wheeler.”

And it went on and on. With every piece of shopping bought from her first overseas trip, she created a new wardrobe for me. And I would just stare at her in wonder. Her process–she dreams, turns it into a practical to-do list by 9am and goes after it with a single minded focus. Usually, by 6pm, mission is accomplished. The same force to this day continues to propel me forward. In less than six months, we were engaged and in just over a year, we were married. In our fifteen years of marriage, I see this repeat itself every day. All I do is to love her. Cherish her. Drink in her sight. Touch her dimple. Tell her about my worry and she would attack it with the same fervor as she asked me back then, soon after we confessed our love for each other, “you should get out of your current job, you are too talented, you will rot here.” Her directness and blunt approach hits me with the same force even today but delivers every time. What I continue to realize to this day is that the Seeker had connected my Muse within me to this awesome force of nature that never fails to mould my life into newer and better versions of me. She never fails to bring awesomeness into my life. They are called–our love, our family, our home, our princess, our career, our explorations, our runs, and our desire and hunger for each other to this day.

So that brings me to the end of my argument.

I was born in this world, not as somebody alone, but as one half of the soul searching to reunite with its better half. In this journey, I was lucky to find loving parents, grow up with loving sisters while I continued my search. But I was only reminded of the true magnitude and purpose of this journey when I pretty much lost everything and discovered the Seeker inside me. He in turn led me to her. My muse. My woman. My lover. My giver. My One Direction. My North Star. My Dear Darling Dear.

God, I miss her so much.

I can’t wait out the next eleven days before I meet her and our daughter here in New York.

The End

Epilogue

9pm, May 2000

There was a single bulb glowing dimly in the small printing press. The Macintosh desktop was casting its glow on our faces, me and the graphic designer. We were on the 75th page, almost wrapping up our edition.

The door opens and in walks a young woman, in her mid twenties, wearing a pink floral dress. In her hands was a three-tiered food container. She stops and says, “Anil, take a break. I got your dinner.”

Moonlight.