Science of Love

           

  The scrutiny of life is determined by the events, which define a pathway to
ones dismay.  Feelings and emotions are ideologies that can't be quantified with
numbers.  When your sweetheart asks you, how much do you love them, if you really
think about it, there is no measure that can express what you feel for the other.    If I
could derive at an equation for that one question, I guess I would be a content person
today.
 
  I met her first when we were at school attending our senior year.  I was a
science geek getting first place in the science fairs, while she was into politics getting
voted as president in the school elections.  I guess we were too intelligent and
ambitious for our own good.  It was our weakness that brought us together.  I was
weak in social studies while she had trouble in physics.  The rest was history.  We
were amazing together.  Most of the day we were busy with our own lives, which lead
to us spending our nights together. 

  When high school did get over, we had to part our own ways for our different
careers.  She went into media for her graduation and I had gone into quantum physics.
I missed her like hell during those years being in two ends of the country. We never
got a chance to meet as our schedules did not match.  We used emails, letters and
phone calls as the alternative, which did not take us far.  Statistically, long distance
relationships seldom work.  Still, we tried our best to uphold what we had.  We both
dated different people since we lived separate lives.  Once in a while, we discussed
the different men and women in our lives over the phone without going into the
details.  I guess it was too painful for us to hear, because the phone calls stopped soon
after.
 
  I think it was about six years later when we met again.  At the time we both
had been married and divorced once.  It was like catching up on old times.
  Unexpectedly, we realized we were still in love with each other.  Our meeting lasted
only a couple of days, since I was on my may for a presentation at a summit and she
was headed for her big story in the Middle East.  We told each other we would keep
in touch and find some way to make us work.  We called each other soul mates and
drew a plan together that looked like it would stick.  We told a lot.  But there is a
limitation to where words stop and action speaks.

  Time went by again and we engaged ourselves to emails and phone calls. 
That also stopped with passage of time.  We had got too busy with our own lives.  I
guess we knew in our inner heart that our relationship was only good in theory
portrayed in a virtual world. 

  We did meet again many years later.  We both had families of our own.  Our
careers had made headlines on our successes.  We ourselves only knew within our
failures.  I asked her, how she was. She asked me the same.  We both said 'we were
fine', though our eyes spoke differently.  I wondered at that moment, how our life
would have been if we had chosen each other instead of our careers.  I wondered
what it would be like if a little more effort was made from my side.  I wondered. We
hugged each other goodbye and left that day.  She didn't cry nor did I.  We just parted
our own ways. 

  We stopped communication after that meeting.  I guess we knew that the
burning fire within had been finally put to rest.  Living thirty years apart holding at
heart the love for another, does not bring solace to saying that we can work things out. 
You have to go out there and grab it before it’s too late.

  I couple of years later, I find out that she is in a hospital losing the battle to the
final stages of cancer.  I got the message from her son.  I still remember his call,
asking my name and telling that his mother would like to see me.  I reached there the
very next day, directly from the airport.  Her son stood outside the room.  I did not
have to introduce myself.  He just pointed towards the room and asked me to hurry. 
She was lying there silently on the bed, as beautiful as I remembered her the
first day we had met.  Physics books and chapters of history, which I can never
forget.  It was when I touched her soft hand she opened her eyes.  I turned my head
away as I did not want her to see the tears in my eyes.  She reached out and held my
hand, asking me to come closer. As I approached her I could smell the same sweet
breath I had tasted once in our adolescence.   

  She looked me in the eyes and said "You know I have always loved you
right?".  I said "Yes."  It was the last words she heard from him as she smiled and
slept.  And those were the last words I heard from her as she passed away a few
moments later.   

  As years went by I realized that I was finally able to quantify true love: It’s 35
years, 18 days, 13 hours, 24 minutes, 53 seconds, and the rest of my life.

Epilogue
He did not stop counting the days, after she passed away.