Document 1

She held the flower in her hand and admired its beauty. The petals were a solid red and it had a deep maroon vein like pattern on it. The intricate design reflected one of the many images of the tree of life. It was perfect; a creation of nature being a mirror for nature itself. She felt one of the outer petals of the flower and the very touch calmed her.

Arjun stood there staring point blank at the Hospital Board. It was a plain white screen with the name standing out in blue. The hospital logo, a red heart encircled by a black frame, was aligned to the left. The regular and drab panel best described what hospitals were, an ordinary place where sometimes extraordinary things happened; the latter contingent on what the board read.  He stepped inside the building and felt his heart sink a million nauticals.

Ina studied each petal carefully. The top of each petal was out turned and each fold radiated fragility. The petals swirled from the center and moved outwardly, forming many layers of the same beautiful and soft flower skin. As layers moved further from the center, they seemed to shed some load that was on them, and stood more and more open to the world, rather than being closer and closer to the core. She brought the flower closer to her lips and kissed it. And that made her smile.

Arjun was now standing in front of the Reception. The receptionist, like so many in the world, was busy on the phone. While he waited to be recognized, he looked around and saw the many others who were there.  He barely knew anyone, but if asked, would certainly have some judgment to narrate. He then looked at the religious thread around his neck and wondered if he knew himself at all; what if his own mind tricked him one day. The receptionist finished her conversation and smiled at his poker face.

Ina kept the flower back in the vase and now admired it from a distance. She felt it was strange that she had fallen in a love with a rose; that beauty was everywhere and in this one creation it was immense. From wherever she looked, she saw something new, or something old just rediscovered. All these attributes added more and more craziness to their affair. It meant so many things for her, but above all, it was her source of reassurance, that all was well.

“I’d like to get a blood test done,” said Arjun.

“What kind of test would that be sir?” asked the receptionist mechanically.

“HIV,” he answered.

“Okay,” she said and started looking for the bill book.

Arjun was now not the only one with the dichotomous look. In fact he never was. The doctors pacified patients with faces of sympathy and hope; the nurses tried to be understanding with the fearful patients, even though in reality they were frustrated with the daily nonsense of the scared pussies. It was almost like an involuntary reflex, that encountering someone meant wearing a personalized mask and hiding our true self behind that veil.

Ina had the rose in her hand again. Her focus was now the stem of the flower. It was slender, dark green and was just perfect to complete the whole flower. The leaves rose from the stem, and then slowly curved downwards. She moved her hand slowly down the stem, trying to gauge its strength. The object of admiration now lay helpless on the ground as drops of blood gave it company. Ina had found it. She understood that fragility, in times of threat, can take the face of spite; simply because all beautiful things are bothered about one thing, their existence.

Arjun was now in the Lab and the Assistant was preparing the apparatus for test. The sharp object meticulously pierced the arm vein and procured what was required. Even the little blood loss made him dizzy for a minute. The large arena of possibilities, results and what ifs of his imagination had clouded his mind. The only way for a clear sky was to know the truth and thus validate or reject the many nuances the imagination had bogged the mind with. Finding the truth was a painful, risky and exhausting act. Despite all that, Arjun thought it was required. He wanted peace. He was selfish.

Ina carefully plucked the outermost layer of petals. She then moved inwards. And soon the floor was filled with scarlet coloured flower skin. Each of those petals were now separated from their original entity and would never ever return again. She was now left with a bud in her hand. Ina could now clearly see the yellow stuff which was in the exact center of the flower. She had carefully unfolded the many layers that surrounded the core. The pollen was the soul of any flower, the only means by which it could ensure its survival over generations. It now lay naked in front of Ina. It was vulnerable.

The report was due that evening. Arjun waited the few hours in a near by food place. He sat there thinking about a bunch of new possibilities that struck his mind. What if someone saw me there? Will the hospital tell anyone I know? What if someone got to know I got tested? What will I tell them about why I got it done? Will I tell them the whole truth or the half truth or a whole lie? It’s too personal, he thought. The hours that were spent thinking would never return again, and their productivity lay on one thing. The result.

Ina started plucking the remaining petals one by one.

Arjun, now held the result in his hand.

Ina plucked the last petal.

Arjun saw his result.

“He loves me”

“Negative”