Wednesday, April 15, 2015

Beyond Equations

Math tells us three of the saddest love stories.
Tangent lines, which had one chance to meet and then parted forever.
Parallel lines, which were never meant to meet.
And Asymptotes, which can get closer and closer but will never be together.

*****
Tangent

He was a regular metro patron. He used to take the train from Kavi Nazrul and get off at Dum Dum. The Metro was the only way he could efficiently cover half the city in less than an hour. One day, he boarded the Metro from Dum Dum, after a long day in college. 

He was sweaty, clutching a case of drawing instruments and carrying a bag of books on his shoulder. He was lucky to find a seat.

The train was on time. They had crossed Esplanade and reached Park Street. That was when she walked on board.

To say she was pretty would be a lie. To say she was unattractive would be a bigger lie. Like him, she too had a bag of books with her and was carrying the collected works of Tolstoy in her hand. She sat down next to him, and he somehow plucked up the nerve to strike up a conversation with her.

She said her name was Riya and she was an English student. She told him her favourite character was Anna Karenina and she loved to listen to The Eagles and Pink Floyd. He was just about to ask her for her number, when she exclaimed “Is the next one Rabindra Sarobar? I need to get off! Nice talking to you!”

And she was gone.

He went home and searched for her on Facebook, but that was in the days when Facebook didn’t have graph search and therefore just knowing an English student named Riya with a soft spot for The Eagles didn’t help. Suffice to say, she got off the train and he never saw her again.

But he still has the memory of their meeting- a tangent to his circle.

*****
Asymptote

The two of them had been friends since high school. She was a doctor. He was an engineer. They knew each other’s families, and had been over to each other’s houses for meals and casual visits. He trusted her with his life. She did too. Their conversations never seemed to end, because they just couldn’t stop talking on and on about anything under the sun. Naturally, the gossip mills had pegged them as a couple. He was teased in college about her. She was given the third degree in college about him.

All this story needs now is Chetan Bhagat to write it into a cheesy soap opera of a best seller.

The truth is, though they had once tried dating, they found that they were better off as friends. Funnily enough, this suited them both, though initially it had made things pretty awkward.

But, thankfully nothing has changed between these two. She still calls him now and then and asks after him, and goes on yammering about what her college is like. He calls her too and tells her everything there is to know.

When they’re both in Kolkata, they make it a point to meet and spend time together.

Such is their bond. Like an Asymptotic function.
*****
Parallel

This one is easy. Easier than the other two at least. This one is the girl of his dreams. The girl who exists only for him and nobody else. The girl who looks the way he wants her to look, the girl who kisses him the way he wants to be kissed. The girl who reads the same books as he does, writes the same things he does, listens to the same songs for the same reasons he does.

In short, the girl who doesn’t exist anywhere but in his mind.

He wishes the girls he went after were like her. He reconciles himself with the knowledge that come what may, he’ll find someone like her.

Like her, but not her.

These two are like parallel lines. They will never meet, except in the pages of his dream, which as we know has nothing to do with reality.
*****

The Bilge Master

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