Piece of Moon by Vismay Harani
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He was wearing his superman chaddies, holding a bunch of cauliflowers. Tousled hair, unkempt beard, a baggy t-shirt over his oversized head. It was 8 am on a Sunday morning.

 

She sighed, he was such a chick chiggedy-chick. In her cogent moments, Bimal Vats would never figure as the ideal guy. In that moment though, she fell for him all over again. But then she reminded herself why she was angry with him – he had forgotten about the dinner date with her parents last night. Over the last few months, she had hinted often enough to him, both subtly and explicitly, that she would like to be proposed to in a certain way at a certain time. And that certain time was yesterday.

 

‘Those aren’t flowers, and I would not take your sloppy, good-for-nothing bum back in again,’ she yelled at him from her balcony window. The snoopy aunty next door was gawping as she did her pseudo-kapalbhaati.

 

‘It’s a nice, shapely bum, I know you like to sink your teeth in it.’ Bimal Vats had that ridiculous smile on his face, as he handed ten rupees to the vegetable vendor for the cauliflowers.

 

Snoopy aunty choked on her own saliva.

 

She went red behind her ears, and it took all her effort to keep the smile off her face. ‘Just go away, I don’t want to talk to you.’

 

‘You know I love you. It’s just that I totally forgot about yesterday.’

 

‘You forgot, is it? Just like you forgot about your own book launch? What was it this time, chasing ghosts in Bhangarh or looking at the sky through that pervy telescope?’

 

He gave a sheepish smile. She was crestfallen, once again she was beaten by the stupid telescope.

 

‘Let me prove my love to you, bachhu. Tu kahe to chaand taare tod laaun.’

 

She scoffed. Then she thought better of it. ‘Yes, do that. Bring me a piece of the moon.’

 

‘You know that was metaphoric, right?’

 

‘I don’t live in metaphors, Mr Vats. I want commitment, bring me a piece of the moon!’ Saying that, she slammed her door and switched off her phone. It would be six months before she would see him again.

 

*

 

‘Is this NASA?’

 

‘Yes, it is.’

 

‘This is Bimal Vats, I am calling from India.’

 

‘Yes, Mr Bimal Vats. Whom do you want to connect with?’

 

‘Umm, I don’t know. I just wanted to know if I could buy off one of the moon rocks that you had collected during the Apollo mission.’

 

There was laughter at the other end. ‘Sir, I believe India has its own space program and they have sent successful missions to the moon.’

 

‘Yup, right. But none of them have come back with pieces of moon.’

 

‘There are couple of online sites that sell moon rocks, I think you should check there.’

 

‘But how to verify their authenticity? Besides aren’t they all, in one way or the other, routed through NASA?’

 

‘No, sir. NASA doesn’t put out moon rocks for sale. If you don’t mind, I am going to hang up.’

 

‘Wait. When is the next manned-mission to moon planned? Hello, hello?’ The lady had hung up.

 

He realised that even if he did manage to buy a moon rock, it wasn’t same as fetching it.

 

*

 

Specks of white dotted the grey sea. He bit his lip in nervous excitement as he looked out of his window. They were icebergs.

 

It had not been easy going. He had to submit himself to a three-day medical test at AIIMS and undergo a snow acclimatisation training for a fortnight at Auli, Uttarakhand. He had been clumsy as fuck during his physical training there. His rope-knots were lousy, he scraped himself against the rocks too often while climbing and his ass was always wet as he slipped on the ice way too many times. He somehow managed to clear the training as well as the medical fitness test.

 

And now, here he was, from Goa to Cape Town and now to Troll Airbase. His windows were covered in frost and it was difficult for him to look outside. He felt a bit suffocated in the full polar gear and tried to distract his mind with happy thoughts of twirling his fingers in Akanksha’s curls. But that happy thought didn’t last for long as he realised that it would be a long time before he would see her again. He only hoped that she didn’t move on by the time he came back. He hadn’t informed her he was going to be gone, and there was a strong possibility that she might do just that…

 

A sudden jolt shook him out of his reverie. The plane juddered as it tried to decelerate on the ice runaway. Looking around him, he realised that people were smiling with anticipation. That pushed out the sombre thoughts from his head. He cheered along with the rest, when the plane came to a standstill.

 

He disembarked. The temperature was -7 C and the wind was blowing at 10 knots. His eyes twinkled with joy as he saw sheets of pristine white in all direction – a chilly reception from heavenly Antarctica.

 

*

 

‘I think I found another one,’ he yelled over the roar of the snowmobile. He got down and began to nudge the rock loose from the snow. Dr Shalini was moving in his direction. She had a Teflon bag in her hand. It was a multi-textured rock with a hint of black. Bimal was not too psyched, it was just a lousy chondrite – an asteroid rock. They had collected about twenty-eight of them since they left the Bharathi station.

 

‘Good job Bimal, you are becoming a pro at this,’ Dr. Shalini smiled at him as she bagged the rock and patted his back.

 

The search for the moon rock was turning out to be more difficult than he thought. This was one of the few places on Earth, where he thought it would be possible to pick up a moon meteorite as it stood out against the white of the ice. That had been his breakthrough idea! A lot of moon rocks dotted the surface of the Earth, fragments that had flown off the moon’s surface billions of years ago when impacted by giant meteors. Whereas it would be difficult to differentiate a moon rock against its terrestrial brethren in other parts of the planet, in Antarctica, it would be relatively easy, or so he had thought. But all he found were fricking chondrites!

 

He didn’t have many days left. No doubt, being cooped up with the geniuses of the country at the chic Indian ice-station Bharathi was thrilling. He had fun picking their brains as he went about documenting the various research projects, they were involved in. From studying climate change by comparing satellite images with on-ground data of the ice-patterns, or the history of Earth and the connection of the east of India with the east of Antarctica back in time when both were part of a super-continent Gondwana, documenting ISRO’s activities of setting up ground stations for polar-orbit satellites and a lot more.

 

A lot was going on at the station itself. Bharathi was the third Antarctica research station commissioned by India. A newer station, it was also one of the best designed. Double storied, it was made up of more than 134 prefabricated containers. From a distance, it looked like a luxury hotel. A hotel without a paid staff to take care of the various chores; and precisely because of that Bimal found himself helping with galley duties like cleaning the toilets, assisting the cook, taking care of the ground station and lot more. So it was with great eagerness that he had joined Dr Shalini’s team to go deeper into Antarctica for a span of two weeks, living in temporary tents and zipping around on snowmobiles all day in search of Moon and Mars rocks.

 

But his luck was lousy – he hadn’t managed to find a single moon rock.

 

He looked at the sky. The sun was circling them just as an eagle would circle a prey. Out here in Antarctica, the Sun didn’t rise in the East and set in West – it circled around for twenty-four hours. Summer was rolling by quickly. Once the six-month winter started, they wouldn’t be able to go out and search for the rocks. He was going back home with the summer crew.

 

He grimaced. He had to do something soon.

 

As days went by, he became more morose. He had been unable to locate a moon rock – they found two meteorites from Mars, which was a rarity, but not the moon. And they didn’t go on another rock-hunting expedition as a blizzard chose to make an appearance and they did not organise one again.

 

His manuscript recording the journey had become 250 pages thick – yet he wasn’t happy.

 

Finally, it was time for their farewell. He didn’t stay for long on the deck of the icebreaker which had come to depositing winter supplies and pick him up. He waved his good-byes and immediately went to his bunk and flopped down.

 

He had eagerly watched when he had arrived at the station on the icebreaker. Going back and forth, crunching ice underneath its weight – till it had a clear path to move forward. Now, on the journey back, he was so weary and distraught, that he immediately fell asleep.

 

*

 

He was wearing his ridiculous chaddies again. His face was covered in a thick beard, half the length of Dumbledore’s. He had that impish smile on his face. It was again 8 am on a Sunday morning.

 

She was dead-relieved that he was alive. ‘Where the hell were you?’ she shouted from her balcony.

 

He didn’t answer. Instead he took out something from his pocket.

 

She could no longer hold back all the anger and fear that had been bottled up inside for the past six months. It gushed out in a passionate burst of torrential rain.

 

‘BIMAL VATS! I FUCKING THOUGHT THAT YOU WERE DEAD! FOR SIX MONTHS, HAVE BEEN CALLING YOU AND GOING TO YOUR HOUSE – AGAIN AND AGAIN. YOUR PARENTS SAID YOU WENT ON ANOTHER OF YOUR SILLY PROJECTS. BUT NO CALLS? NO EMAILS? NO MESSAGES? MY PARENTS ARE LINING UP MBA GRADUATES TO MARRY ME, AND I HAVE HALF THE MIND TO ACCEPT ONE OF THE PROPOSALS.’

 

‘I wanted it to be a surprise.’

 

‘What?’

 

He opened the box that he was holding. The morning rays of the dawn glinted off the band that was nestled within. Her heart started beating faster.

 

‘You disappeared for six months, Bimal. How do I know that your love is real?’ she asked silently.

 

’Hon, I went to fetch you a piece of the moon.’

 

Her heart immediately melted. She rushed downstairs and threw herself at a delighted Bimal Vats.

 

*

 

The ring was an oddity. A band of gold, with a fat, lumpy piece of brown rock held by a sinuous golden cage. She had never been happier.

 

She listened with rapt attention as her knight in flowy beard was recounting his adventure. ‘… then the icebreaker broke down. We had to go back! While everyone else on board was unhappy, I jumped with joy. Once I was back, I begged Dr Shalini to take me with them on their last expedition before the night set in for the next six months. As luck would have it, I found it. A moon rock, the size of my fist!’

 

‘Size of your fist? But this one, not that I am not happy to have it on my finger, is much smaller?’

 

‘All the rocks collected in Antarctica belong to the government and the various research agencies around the world. They would never have allowed me to keep the entire thing – I begged them to at least give me a small portion, this speck was all I could afford.’

 

Akanksha kissed the ring and snuggled in Bimal’s arms.

 

Bimal was happy. Just like the time when the night had finally set in on Antarctica before their second departure.

 

He was on the terrace of the ice station. He was holding the moon rock in his hand as he looked up at the sky lit by eerie green and red light from horizon to horizon. The ice mirrored the dance in the heaven. Aurora Australis.

 

In the maelstrom of the light, the moon stood out as a serene sphere of solidity. He smiled at a four-billion-year-old connection he had with the moon in the palms of his hands. An expression of love for a girl as beautiful. It was the best feeling in the world.

 

*


Vismay Harani’s stories have been published in Juggernaut and The Science Reporter.