Life in Circles

"Ahh!," Aman woke up screaming. He had been having a very vivid nightmare. The dream seemed just like a distant memory now so he shrugged it off and got out of bed. He was not looking forward to the day. He hated Mondays; he just hated any day he had to be in a building with bunch of dreadfully dim-witted people who hated being in that building just has much as he did. Aman believed that his life was boring and unappealing and dreaded almost every day of it, but he powered through it always thinking, "Things will get better, eventually".
He sighed. A dark blue shirt, black tie, black pants and black shoes; nothing fancy, just something to get him through another day. Aman walked down the hall into his bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. He wasn't the most muscular guy, the tallest guy, the best looking guy, but there was one distinct characteristic that he had. His eyes, they were perfect, perfect size, perfect shape, and their color was unique. They were black, a black that gleamed in the light. He covered them up with black square glasses. He combed his hair back the way he liked it, and walked out of the bathroom into his living room. There was no one home right now, his father left the house roughly around six to go downtown and his mother left to visit some relative that he could never remember the name of. He didn't really mind, it gave him some silent time in the house. It's not that there was too much yelling in his household, there was just enough. He could barely stand that constant clicking of a keyboard or the scratch of a pen across paper in the office. "I can't wait for my apartment to be ready," he thought to himself. There had been a fire. Just one more of those things that had gone wrong in his life. He was going to be late if he made breakfast so he grabbed a toast, his laptop, and walked out the door, closing and locking the door behind him. The sun was up and it was shining over the small homes as Eshan got on his motorbike from the side of his house and rode off down the street in the direction of his office. His hair fluttered in the wind, and his black eyes seemed to gleam from the shine of the sun. At almost the exact same time as he left the house, a couple of blocks away a young girl who had just gotten a brand new car for her birthday was just pulling out of her driveway. She was pretty, around five nine, with short black hair with purple streaks. Her name was Aakansha Mehra. She was wearing dark blue skinny jeans, and a white t-shirt with, "Pay Attention to the World Around You," written colorfully on the front of it. She drove off in her new Swift down the road just a little over the speed limit probably because she was late for work. She drove down a few streets until she came to a four way intersection and stopped. The phone in her pocket vibrated, she looked down and checked it and saw it was a text message from her boyfriend, Antony. Aakansha excitedly started to text back while speeding up out of the four way intersection, once again a little too fast. Just as she began to drive off, Aman rode onto the street in front of her car. He was coming down the street on her right side, and didn't look before riding through the intersection. The front of the car crashed into the side of the bike, and his left leg. There was a thud and then a crack as
he flew on to the hood of the Swift, hitting his head, and a loud screech as his bike skid down the rode in the opposite direction. Now maybe if he had taken some time to eat breakfast that morning, or if he had left his house earlier, or if Aakansha had taken longer to put on her "Pay Attention to the World Around You," t-shirt, or if Antony could have waited till after work to talk to the her, or maybe if she hadn't been speeding, or if he had looked before riding through the intersection, he wouldn't have been hit by car, he wouldn't have hit his head on the car's hood, and he might still have been awake.
Fluorescent lights lit up the small hospital room for one. The two parents sat in chairs, the mother crying and the father comforting her as the doctor told them that their only son may never wake up. The boy in the bed who could barely hear everything around him was Aman. There were bandages around his head, a cast and a sleeve holding up his broken leg, and all sorts of wires and tubes going in and out of his lifeless body. The doctor finished talking to his parents and left the room. His mom walked over to the side of his bed and whispered I love you in his ear as a tear dropped onto his pillow. His father put his arms around his mother and led her out of the room to get coffee. Down the hall and through the glass doors, was the waiting room, and in that waiting room was a couple, Aakansha and Antony. Aakansha's face was red, and buried in Antony's chest, her purple streaked hair was a mess, and her makeup smeared. The doctor came into the waiting room and told them that Aman was stable. They walked down the hall leading to his room together. When Aakansha saw Aman, tears began to swell up in her eyes and fall down her cheeks.
After a few minutes of sobbing she finally spat out, "I'm so s-sorry! I didn't me-mean to."
"He can't hear you honey," Antony said as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.
"I know, b-but just maybe he will hear, and it will help him wake up or just an-anything." Little did she know as she left that small hospital room, He did hear her, and he had already forgiven her. He couldn't open his eyes no matter how hard he tried. He tried to move his arms, his legs, his toes, fingers, but just nothing worked. Trying made him tired, so tired, and he was so very cold. The darkness consumed him and he fell asleep in that little silent hospital room.

Bombay - 1920
The sun shone over the bustling city of Bombay, cars and cows fought for space on the roads, crowds of people walked shoulder to shoulder trying to not be late to work, and at a harbor filled with goods being shipped in and out, one particular boat was just about to sail out and on to the seemingly endless ocean. This is where Mr. Shankar, an aspiring writer, was headed to, to discover a whole new world of possibilities across the oceans. He had his backpack filled with whatever he thought he would need on this voyage, mostly only consisting of clothes, money, notebooks, and things to write with. His black eyes gleamed with happiness, as he took in the smells of the ocean, and the winds flew through his hair. He stopped and smiled as he saw the gigantic ship in front of him being loaded with all different shapes and sizes of crates containing various items.
"Aman Ramesh Shankar!" came an angry woman's voice from behind him. He sighed, as his smile became a frown but back into a fake smile, and he turned around to see the woman. Aman nervously but somewhat excitedly answered, "Ooh, hello Ranchel! What are you doing here?" The woman had a very angry expression on her face that did not change with his attempt to be cheerful.
"You know damn well why I am here!" She yelled at him while stomping over to stand in front of him. Even though she was a good couple of inches shorter then him, she was almost standing over him because he was bunching up, afraid that she might hit him. Her big brown eyes piercing his composure. Aman opened up slightly and said in the same nervous but cheery way, "No I don't, w-we talked about this, I am leaving today."
"And you weren't even going to say goodbye to me after last night?!" she angrily answered.
"Well you were asleep and I had to get here or they would have left without me. Look I'm sorry, you know I wouldn't have left without saying goodbye to you."
Ranchel sighed, and said as she began to calm down, "Yes, you're right, I'm just really going to miss you. I mean its four years without you."
"Yes I know, but come on, cheer up. I'll be back before you even know it, and you'll have college to keep you busy while I'm gone."
"Okay, just don't forget me while you're there"" She said as tears began to swell up in her eyes.
"I will never forget you!' he said, as he pulled her to his chest. "Now no tears, you know I will always love you right, and you will always be my Ranchel" She nodded, as she held him back.
"Okay now don't be falling in love with some other girl." She said as they let go of each other.
"I won't." He smiled and kissed her cheek. "Bye darling," he said as he started to walk towards the bridge leading to the boat.
"Goodbye Aman," Ranchel said as she watched the love of her life that she won't see for four years board the boat that will take him away from her. Aman was astounded by the mass of humanity on the deck, he walked down some stairs and went lower into the boat, he was directed where to find his room by a few sailors. He opened the hatched door and walked into the small steel room with two bunk beds on the right side, one port hole, and one lantern lighting the whole room which was actually kind of dark. From the top
bunk came a man's voice with the deepest British accent hr had ever heard, "'Ello, you that bloke going to London?" the man said as he jumped down from the bunk and faced Aman eye to eye.
"Umm, yes that's me," he replied a little surprised by the question.
"Well my name is Henry, Henry Wickers the third, but everyone calls me Wicky," Henry said cheerfully as he grabbed Aman's hand and shook his arm clean out of his socket.
"Uh, I'm Aman Ramesh Shankar."
"A.S. aye, well let me give you the tour of our room, those our the beds, yours is the bottom one, that's the window, and that's the light. Well that's about it. Nice to meet ya A.S. Get some rest, it's a long ride to London." Wicky, said with a smirk as a crawled back up to his bunk and turned over. He settled into his bottom bunk still a little blindsided by his new friend, but still happy he knew someone on the ship. He lay down on the uncomfortable bed and despite the rocking of the ship and the lumpiness of his bed he fell fast asleep.
When Aman and Wicky arrived in London, they stayed at Wicky's family's house, and Wicky showed him all around London. For one year Aman stayed in London, working different jobs to make money, all while writing about everything he did in detail and while getting new idea for exciting novels about city life, love, loss, and anything that came to mind. Wicky tried endlessly to set him up with a woman, but his refused each time still faithful to his love. After that year he and Wicky hopped on a ship and sailed over to discover other parts Europe. Aman and Wicky discovered new beautiful places and towns, hills covered with precious flowers, towns busy with country work, forests with trees that seemed to have been born the day of Earth itself, sights that would make the mere poet weep trying to describe their beauty. And he wrote and wrote, he wrote about everywhere they went, he would describe their hikes through forests, when they would stay at towns converting with locals, he would write down everything. Aman took in  the beautiful sights he began to forget his life back in Bombay, day by day he would be engulfed in the extravagant beauty of the places they would visit. But he never forgot Ranchel. When Wicky tried to set him up again with a woman, he couldnt. He was tempted but he would always think about her. He would think about Ranchel back home, and as it came closer to the time for him to go back to India, he would think about her more, and more. He would start to see her face when he looked at other women. He saw her face in clouds, and in his dreams. When the time finally came for the boat ride home, he didn't sleep. All he thought about was Ranchel-just her. What she had been doing, if she had changed. What bothered him most, when he really thought about it, was if she had forgotten him, or if she even still loved him.

Mumbai - Present Day

In the hospital room laid Aman lay day in and day out. Months passed as he laid in that bed, the world changing around him but him having no part in it. His parents visited every day, then a couple times a week, then every two weeks, then every month, then every couple of months. It seemed as if they started to give up hope just a little bit at a time every time they saw him laying so very still in that bed, never moving, never changing in any way shape or form. Friends came to see him the first couple of weeks but they began to stop coming, everyone just getting on with their lives. No one could blame them. When nothing changes it's hard to keep coming back. He would sleep for days, then for weeks then longer and longer as time passed.

Bombay - 1924
The twenty-six year old man walked down the busy street of Bombay dressed in a new blue suit, and holding a dozen flowers. This man walked up to the house on the corner of the street. He opened the gate and just as he was about to knock on the front door a voice called out from behind the man, interrupting him mid-knock.
"Aman Ramesh Shankar! Four years and I don't get one lousy letter?"
"Oh umm, hello Ranchel, I-I-I was actually just coming to see you. I'm really sorry I didn't write." His voice had the same nervous yet cheerful sound it had four years ago.
"Yea, I'm really sure you" Are, Are those for me?" she said looking at the beautiful flowers he was holding.
"Oh yes they are," he replied just now remembering he was holding them. Ranchel snatched the flowers out of his hands.
"Oh Aman! I can't believe you remembered that I liked white tiger lilies."
"Yes of course I remember."
"Aw! you are so sweet!" She said jumped over to him and held him tight smiling the biggest most beautiful smile. Aman put his arms around her returning the hug with a big smile on his face as well.
From behind him came a deep voice saying, "Ranchel is that you?" The voice belonged to a tall dark handsome man with black hair and green eyes that was standing in the doorway of the house.
"Oh yes darling, it's me." She responded letting go of him and going over to the handsome man, and kissing him. "Oh Dinesh, this is my friend Aman. Aman this is my fiance, Dinesh."
"Oh well congratulations. When's the wedding?" he said hiding his true feelings with a small smile.
"It's in two months," Dinesh said with a smile, holding Ranchel a little closer.
"Oh an August wedding, that's nice..."
"Darling, will you give us a minute?" she said breaking the awkward silence.
"Yes of course," Dinesh said retreating back into the house. She closed the door and turned to Aman, not looking him directly in the eye. "We met two years ago, and well it just happened."
"Oh no I understand. I wish you both the best of luck, but I have to go meet my friend. So I should actually get going,"  he said as he turned and started to walk down the hall, tears building up in his eyes.
"Aman!"
"Yes?" he said, quickly wiping the tears in his eyes then stopping and turning around as she quickly came over to him.
"Just know, I loved you. I love you. I just couldn't wait forever. I'm really sorry. I'll never stop..."
"Don't be sorry darling, I understand. It's my fault. My loss...," he said before he turned back around, walked down the road and out of her life. He would never admit it, but a single tear escaped his eye as he climbed down those stairs. She looked down at the floor before turning around and saw a slip of paper. She picked it up and began to read it.

My darling Ranchel,
I have been gone for four years. I am not sure if you have moved on or not, but if you haven't please accept these lillies as an apology for never writing to you and come to the address below, I still love you, and want to be with you again.
Always yours,
Aman

As she read the last bit of the letter, she began to cry. She did not go to the address to rekindle her love with Aman that night, and he didn't expect her to. He went out with Wicky, who had traveled to Bombay, that night to, as Wicky said, "Get some relief." And they both had a wild night, but he couldn't get her out of his mind, and declined when one of the women offered to come home with him. So he went back to his lonely room, laid down on his bed and waited for a new day to come.

Mumbai - Present Day
"AHHH," Aman yelled as he sat up in his hospital bed. "Where am I?!"
"Doctor, get in here hurry!" yelled a nurse passing by his room. The doctor ran in and said, "Oh my god! Lay back down. You are in Hinduja hospital. You were hit by a car almost four years ago."
He yelled sitting back up in his hospital bed, "Four years?!"
"Yes, you have been in a coma."
"Where are my parents?"
"They are on their way we just called them."
"Okay, umm th-thank you," Aman said trying to absorb the information he had just been given. The doctor left the room and he sat there just thinking until his parents came rushing into the small hospital room. His mother quickly grabbed hold of her not so little boy and began to kiss his head over and over again. A couple of hours later, after all had calmed down, he was sitting up and his father was sitting at the foot of the bed. Aman cleared his throat and said, "Dad, can I ask you something about grandpa?"
His father replied, "Yes of course, what do you want to know?"
"Well tell me about how he met grandma."
"Well he met her when he was twenty-three, he always it was years after he lost the girl of his dreams and the love of his life and met your grandmother . He was walking down the street in Bombay, when he turned the corner and just ran right into her. He never talked much. Your grandfather was the slient type. He said that they were of great comfort to each other."
"Do you know anything about the other girl, the "girl of his dreams"?"
"Yes, actually, her name was umm Ranchel something. Gunha. That's it, Ranchel Gunha. Why do you ask about her?"
"Just wondering about it, what happened to her?"
"Oh well your grandfather came back from Europe and he was going to ask her to marry him, but she was engaged to someone else."
"That's terrible."
"One more question dad. How did grandpa die?"
Well the doctors really couldn't find a reason, but I say it was grief. He couldn't forget her. And he always blamed himself especially at the end. You know you were born exactly one year after he died?"
"No, you've never told me that."
"Yea well, you remind me so much of him though, I think that's why we named you after him."
"Well thanks for telling me dad."
"Anytime son, anytime. I just want you to know though, it's really good to have to back, I love you son."
"I love you too dad." Aman said as he and his father embraced. He made a full recovery after a couple months of physical therapy. He enrolled in college a year after he woke up. Two years after he woke up,he was walking down a somewhat busy street in Mumbai, when he turned a corner not paying attention to where he was going, and ran right into a beautiful girl. She had beautiful long black hair, and breathtaking big brown eyes. She had a bouquet of white tiger lilies clutched in her hands,
"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" said Aman to the girl, as he helped her off the ground.
As he helped her up the girl said in the most beautiful voice that soothed his soul, "Oh yes yes, I'm okay. Sorry I wasn't really paying attention."
"I wasn't either, sorry. Well, hello, my name is Aman Shankar." He said putting his hand out for a hand shake.
"Oh hi, I'm Ranchol, ,Ranchol Gunha" she said shaking his hand.
He said smiling, "Ranchol, hmm, I really like that name."
"I like yours too, Aman," She replied, gleaming the most beautiful smile back at him.
"Umm, would you like to go get some coffee?"
"I would love to." She said as they both walked off down the street.

Every love story gets a second chance, even if it's in a different lifetime.