Love in the Time of Corona

Her ‘niqab’ was covering her entire face except her eyes; may not be just for the reason that those pair of eyes can see the world but to let the world see those magical eyes.

‘Speaking eyes are more precious than just seeing eyes’ – he got the thought immediately after he saw the most expressive pair of eyes he had ever seen till then. Maybe he had seen those eyes before in the same place while waiting for the bus but he had not heard those eyes speaking before; today he did. Metaphysics tells that everything happens at the right time, neither earlier nor later than it should happen. He doesn’t believe in such baseless theories; but life doesn’t care anyone’s beliefs. It operates in its own way.

It continued for a few days. He started coming to the bus stop early to see those speaking eyes, just to listen to those eyes speaking. Everyday those eyes expressed different emotions – happiness on some days, sadness some other times, a sense of anxiety some times, a calm peaceful feeling on some other days. No sounds, no letters could express emotions as clearly as those eyes could do.

Days passed. Her eyes smiled at him. They searched for him when he was late. They expressed incompleteness when her bus arrived before he came to the bus stop. They thanked the merciful bus whenever it arrived late and cursed the same whenever it arrived early. They asked questions for his previous day’s absence. They expressed a sense of completeness when they saw him that day. Her eyes kept doing the job of her words of sound. He just waited for those moments of silent talks through eyes until he heard her smiling one day.

The sun and the moon, the most regular employees of the universe did their job of rolling days and nights without taking any leave. Her eyes were enough for his eyes at first, but his heart asked for her smile. When the smile was served, his ears wished for her voice.

The feeling of being in each other’s presence started giving them an unexplainable happiness. That half an hour of time in the morning waiting for the bus was fueling the remaining twenty-three hours of the day. Strange age of the mind, some unknown chemicals in the brain, innocent beats of that stupid blood pumping machine, and ignorance of the hormones – all created a wonderful confusion – and they called it love.

The next day, not sure why, only he and she were there in the bus stop. He could feel the fragrance of 'attar' that breeze was bringing from her. 'Is it the right time to speak with her?' - He asked the same question to himself so many times. The doubt of falling down in her sight, the fear of losing even exchange of talks through eyes, the confusion of the sprinting heart and the blankness of thoughts didn't let him move towards her.

Her bus arrived. Like everyday, she looked at him for the last time before boarding the best and bid bye through her eyes. At the last moment, while she was ascending on the foot board, one of her notebooks peeping out through her unzipped compartment of her bad fell down as a boon in disguise. He noticed the book falling, rushed towards it, picked up and ran behind the bus. But the bus moved. He was sad and he was happy.

Something strange happened that evening!

The bearded man, the head of the country – popped up on TV and announced that the country is going to get locked down for three weeks because of serious threat from an unseen virus. It would be complete shutting down of the country.

There were barricades closing the paths on the roads, there were policemen everywhere in the town. There arrived no bus at the stop. The city suddenly became silent. There were announcements all over to stay at home.

He knew nothing about her except the expressions of her eyes and fragrance of her attar. And of course, the religion she belonged to. There are millions belonging to the religion; there are thousands using that attar. But eyes? No, there can't be second pair of such eyes.

Whenever he opened the notebook that he had got in the bus stop, its typical new book smell took him to childhood days or the fragrance of attar blended in that dominated the former memories.

A week passed.

He developed fever next day. When consulted, he was tested positive for the viral infection. He was admitted in the hospital which was the only centre in the town to treat the virus.

Another week passed. A patient from the ICU was shifted to the general ward beside his bed. Referring to the patient, the doctor was explaining to her family members on a phone call ‘She is out of danger but there might be some viral infection left in the body. She will be discharged after she is tested negative completely.’ This time it was not ‘niqab’ but the mask that was covering the face. But who can stop the eyes? The most expressive eyes in the world were just beside his bed. Both the pair of eyes smiled and the tears rolled down in happiness.

It was not even two minutes after those eyes met after so many days that another doctor came to the ward and told him ‘Congratuations! Your report arrived just now. Viral infection is negative. You are completely fit and can get discharged now.’

But how could he go!

He didn't want to make the same mistake that he did in the bus stop on the last day. He just said, ‘Give me a moment doctor.’, got up from his place, went near her and hugged her. Everyone was shocked.

‘What madness!’ – The doctor exclaimed.

‘Sir, if you test me again, I may be positive now. Let me be here for some more days. I want to speak with these eyes.’ – he said.

That night he took out the notebook; it was brand new. It was blank. No words. No letters. But it had done its job by passing the lovely virus from her to him. It had brought him here.