Butterflies and Hurricanes

Ann

“What are you thinking?” Ann asked

“I’m thinking…” Ed trailed off.

Ann looked at him. Patient.

“I’m thinking how you can think so much about what I’m thinking.”

They were at Paradise beach in Pondicherry, on their annual holiday together. Now that they lived apart in different cities, this week-long ritual had become vital to them.

It was like coming up to the surface for air.

The sun was setting and it was getting darker. It was chilly now, but they didn’t want to break the peace of the moment.

Ann smiled. “It’s just… I feel there are entire universes within you that I can’t access.”

“Is that so bad?”, Ed asked, still looking at the sea, despite the darkness.

“No, it’s not. It’s just that I’m always so curious about what’s in there,” she knocked lightly on the side of his head. “I want to know your insides. I want to swim in your stream of consciousness.”

Ed laughed. It pierced through the silence of the evening. He leaned all the way back and let the soft sand cradle him.

“You’re crazy, did anyone ever tell you that?”

“Many people. A bunch of times actually.”

Ann was on her back too, squinting her eyes to look at the stars slowly appearing. Earlier, they’d had dinner at a cafe. Sourdough bread with avocado and cream cheese, carrot cakes and coffee.

“I could do with some more coffee,” Ed said lazily.

“Well, I’d have made you the best coffee at home if you were still in Bangalore.”

“Yeah, well. Even though I miss your coffee, I couldn’t do Bangalore anymore. You know what it was like for me.”

“Yeah, I know. Are you.. are you happy now?”

“Yes, I’d say so. It’s not like I upped and ran away, Ann. It was a plan many months in the making. I’d been travelling a whole lot, but Landour was the only place that made sense to me.”

“So what makes you happy there?”

“Well, “happy” is a very narrow definition of what I feel there. Also I don’t really chase happiness anymore, per se. I chase peace. A semblance of contentment. A life where my mind has the space to go take a long walk.”

“And living there gives that to you?”

Ed got up, dusted the sand off his hands and stretched. “Let’s head back to the BnB. I’ll explain on the way.”

They walked along the shore, sand eagerly sticking to their legs. The sky was inky, almost purple. In the distance, a dog howled.

For a while, they didn’t speak. The beach was almost deserted now. A lonesome green boat parked to a side, a couple of shacks abandoned by the day. Birds were returning home. Some lights glimmered in the distance.

“Landour almost… called out to me. I love how green it is. I love the coffee shops. I love that it’s small, it’s quiet. It just works for me. That’s not to say it’s perfect. I do miss the buzz of city life. I do get lonely. But if I had to choose, I’d choose Landour. The same way you like Landour, but would choose Bangalore any day.”

Ann crinkled her nose. She had visited Ed a few months ago in his little home in his new city. He eagerly showed her his hiking trails, Ruskin Bond’s home, his favourite coffee shops, and the bookstore he spent his weekends at. He even found a shop that sold audio cassettes.

She almost hated how much he loved it.

Try as she might, she couldn’t leave the convenience of a metro. The instant deliveries, the concerts, the easy access to friends all around. She was too much of a “city rat”, as she liked to call herself.

“Do you miss.. Bangalore?”, she asked.

“Sometimes. I miss who I was when I was there. I came of age there. Got my first job, learnt the ropes, made friends. Back in my 20s, it was great. In my 30s, not so much.”

Ann hugged herself as she walked, goosebumps forming all over her arms. Her hair blew back, a bit damp and matty thanks to the humidity.

She looked at him as they walked. Hands in his pockets, shirt unironed, hair tousled. He had an ear piercing now. Last time they met, he had a tattoo of a grasshopper on the back of his neck.

‘Why grasshopper?’ she asked. He’d just shrugged, ‘I don’t know. I think they’re underrated.’

There was something about Ed she couldn’t place. Though they had their guards down with each other, she often observed a resistance in him. Like he held back from showing her who he could be in the deepest part of his soul.

“I’m happy for you, you know?” she said. And she meant it. “It’s just that it’s been a bit weird without you. A little empty.”

“I know,” he said and put an arm around her shoulder.

She leaned against him. Even though they constantly texted, emailed and video called, she missed his presence around her. They’d once been in love. In love “within air quotes” as Ed likes to say.

Of course they fell in love, how could they not? They were both intense, passionate and had the right blend of humour and humanity. They lived together as partners and confidants, and over the years, had risen above the standard definition of love and had become more than just lovers. They were both free spirits, but they wanted different things in life: Ed wanted freedom, Ann wanted stability. Ed wanted to live on a farm, Ann wanted to move to the busiest part of the city. Ed wanted solitude, Ann wanted people.

So they didn’t let something as basic as a relationship get in the way of the life they wanted. They were always going to be friends, partners, soul-searchers. Geography didn’t matter.

But separations hurt. And this one hurt Ann astonishingly deep. The night he left, she found herself erupting into guttural sobs in her bed. She learned how to put herself back together. But without Ed, she sometimes felt all weak and noodly. That’s when her friends swooped in and helped her out. She was okay. They were okay.

“I always wanted to minimise things in my life, you know? Declutter. Declutter the house, the things I owned, the people I knew. Everything. I have exactly two friends right now: one I hike with and one I game with. And that’s exactly perfect.”

“Well, helllooo?”

“Of course there’s you. I’m talking about people who are around me.”

“What about dating? Found some hot nerds around you on Bumble?”

Ed laughed. “It’s been a bit dry, I’m not gonna lie. My dating life has gone to some weird places.”

Back at their AirBnB, they went straight for the balcony—their favourite spot. Ann got cosy on one of the chairs, while Ed stood with his back against the railing.

“So, tell me about your weirdest date,” she asked, her eyes glinting.

“Ergh…” Ed placed a hand on his face and laughed in embarrassment. “Which one? It’s hard to choose.”

They both laughed. She loved the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed. There were new lines around his eyes. Some more of his hair had turned white. She was missing things. He was aging without her. She felt a twinge of sadness.

“Did I tell you about the one who was reeeally into astrology?”

“Uh oh.”

“Yeah, I thought it was cute at first, but then she became obsessed with my horoscope and time of birth and I… couldn’t deal with all that.”

“Wow, this would make for a really funny sitcom. You really know how to pick the most interesting ones.”

“Yeah, is it something about my face?”

“Most definitely,” Ann giggled.

“How’s Mr. Fuzzface doing?” Ed asked.

“Listen, I happen to like his beard.”

“‘course you do. How’s he doing anyway?”

“He’s good. He’s busy. In a good way. We’ve been travelling, hosting people, planning game nights. It’s been busy.”

“Sounds like you guys are busy.”

Ann rolled her eyes. “No, but seriously. I think he’s good for me. He matches my pace. I like doing stuff, and he’s a doer. We both vibe.”

“Well, I’m glad for you kiddo. Glad you finally figured it out,” he said as he mockingly patted her on her back.

“Stop it. Do you want some chai?”

“Yes, please.”

“Then make some no.”

Ed shook his head and went to the kitchen.

Ed

Minutes later, they sat on the couch. A soft breeze wafted through the balcony, white curtains billowed against the open windows. Crickets chirped in the distance. Ann covered her legs with a blanket and warmed her fingers around the mug of hot chai.

Ed looked at Ann, in her fleece jacket, with her hoodie on, fingers wrapped around her mug. She always ran cold. Her nose was beginning to turn pink. He felt a wave of affection towards her.

Ann broke the silence. “Do you believe in having a purpose in life? Like we’re all supposed to find a calling, the one true thing that gives life meaning and pursue it?”

“No, I don’t”

“You don’t?”

“You do?”

“It’s just that every time I watch a TED talk, or scroll through LinkedIn or even just read the news, people seem to be doing things, you know? Like everyone seems to have a thing. Like a cause they believe in, or a god, or a business, or a sport they worship, or a football team they support, or a kid, or a hobby, or a dream… I don’t have any of that. I don’t feel that strongly about anything or anyone. Is that normal?”

“Maybe not. But who wants to be normal?”

“Ok, so you tell me. What do you live for?”

Ed shrugged. “I live to just live… I live because I’m here. I think buzzwords like “purpose” and “calling” were invented by people with an agenda. Some people find a reason or create a meaning to live a fulfilled life, and well, good for them. But I don’t believe people who just want to enjoy the simple pleasures in life aren’t living a meaningful life.”

Ann looked at him.

Ed continued, “Lets say you wake up in the morning and look forward to your cup of coffee. That’s meaning. You’re happy with a good day’s work. You have a good time with a friend. You enjoy a piece of cake. You play with a dog. You laugh. You cry. That’s you. That’s your purpose. Ann, that’s what you live for.”

Ann was looking up at the ceiling. When her brain fired in all directions, she blinked a lot faster. Then she looked at him and smiled. She looked like she was slowly melting inside her jacket. He wanted to hold her, let her know there was nothing wrong with her.

“What about people who have faith, or something they believe in?”

“But you believe in so much. You believe in kindness, in connection, in being open, in loving. You have faith in humanity, in the goodness of people, in wonder and awe and science and curiosity. I think you should give yourself a little more credit. You’re a lot.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.” Ann said as she looked down into her mug, as if she was going to find an answer in it. He knew she was still carrying some old wounds in her heart. Relatives who told her she “was overthinking.” Lovers who told her she was “too much.” Friends who asked her to “chill.”

He didn’t want her to chill. Not ever. He liked her to be exactly what she needed to be.

“You know what I mean. You’re a living, breathing, feeling human being. Just yesterday, when you saw that turtle. How happy that made you. You’re already living an existence richer than most.”

Ann gasped mockingly. “So you’re saying. That if I’m not teaching yoga or becoming a YouTuber or going on solo expeditions, I’m still normal?”

Ed chuckled and sat next to her on the couch, putting his arm around her, giving her his best side hug. “You’re more normal than most people I know.” They were quiet for a moment.

Two days ago, they sat in a dimly-lit bar, listening to budding singers perform their music and Ann was crackling like a flaming torch. She leaned forward, elbows on the table, chin on her hands, her slender body taking in every word. One of the singers sang about her mother, and Ed felt her turning into a puddle of tears. How could she feel so much? How could she live like she was a pulsing, pumping life-sized heart? He wanted to take her hand, he wanted to brush her hair off her shoulder and rub her back. But he just let her be in the moment.

“You know, Ann. I feel like many of us, as we go through life, drop our hearts somewhere along the way. Like a glove, or a sock. And we don’t even notice. And then years later, we realise a big part of us is missing. And we go looking for that sock with no sense of direction. You’re not like that. You held your sock close to you, through the storms and through the thorns… you held on to it tightly. That’s what makes you you. And I love that about you.”

Ann’s eyes were glistening now. Ed saw her. He really saw her. This was his Ann. This girl who had never let life harden her. Who wasn’t afraid to wear the wheel of emotions on her chest like a giant pendant.

“Damn it, Ed. I didn’t expect you to say all that.” she said, her voice breaking. “Thank you,” she whispered, her face buried in his shoulder. She wrapped her arms around him, and breathed him in. He smelled of fresh laundry.

“I sometimes feel like life is a video game and I’m playing it on a hard difficulty level. Or like I got a board game, but not the manual with it. I’m tired of editing myself for people. And sometimes I want to cry and cry and not explain myself to anyone why, you know? If they ask me why I’m crying, I want to tell them “because I’m a person” and I want them to get me.”

“I get you. You’re perfect, Ann.”

“Pobody’s nerfect, Ed.”

“No, I know. What I mean to say is that you’re perfect in your imperfections. You’re meant to exist, and take space and be confident in who you are. Purpose, beliefs, faith – they can go take a hike. You’re here, in flesh and blood. Your breath is a sign of your purpose. I just want you to own the miasma of emotions you carry within you. Share it, don’t hoard it, and definitely don’t hide it. Ok?”

“God, you’re good,” she said, as she continued to hug him. “Ok. I’ll try,”

For a while, they were the old Ed and Ann again. Two kids in Bangalore. Newly minted professionals, lovers, roomies. They were back home, each with a book, reading poetry, listening to ghazals, drinking cups of hot chai on lazy afternoons. They were dancing at house parties, cooking together, snuggling in bed in the mornings, going out for sweet corn, taking naps in parks, stealing kisses in cafes.

His heart was bursting with emotion. Their entire universe together expanded and contracted into that one moment. No matter what happened, nobody could take this moment away from them.

She looked up at him. “You know I’ll always love you, right?”

“I know.”

“Never thought I’d have to compete with a town. What’s up with people wanting to run off to the hills?”

Ed laughed. “You’re welcome to join me and find out.”

Ann sighed. “I think I know why. I’m just too much of a coward.”

He kissed the top of her head. They sat in silence. They could hear the sea in the distance. A lone owl hooted outside.

“So, where do we go from here?” Ann asked.

“I don’t know. How about nowhere?”

“I like that idea.”