11.20 am

I'm pacing up and down Rohit's cabin. I've already made three trips to the staff room to brew myself coffee. If I drink any more I know I'll throw up. I'm already developing a slight headache. I sit down on the couch in Rohit's cabin and rest my head against the back pillows.

"Sona, I'll miss you." Three days before my wedding my Mom said this to me while gently massaging my hair with oil. I hummed, my eyes were closed and I was enjoying the peace that was fast turning into sleep. Oblivious of my physical state, my mother continued."I still remember the day you were born. When the doctor placed you in my arms, for the first time I felt miracles existed. I felt like I was holding one."

I smile through my closed eyes. I guess she sensed that smile. "Sona, you and I, we've always been a team. Inseparable. We've only had each other. And that's what made this bond so special. But.."

Her pause irked me. So although it took a lot of effort for me to speak at that point, I asked, "But what?"

"I want you to build a similar bond with Rohit and his family. Try and get to know them. Accept them for who they are."

I held my mother's hands gently to still them and turned around to look at her. The questions in my eyes were apparently evident.

She gently took my hands in hers, placed my head on her lap, and continued to speak while running her hands through my hair. "Sona, being your own boss, taking your own decisions has made you very independent. And while that's a good thing, it also means that you have little tolerance for views that don't adhere to yours. You and me, we've known each other for our entire lifetimes, and we've accepted each other for who we are, without judgment. But your new family, you don't know anything about them, their habits, their likes and dislikes, their priorities, their ways of thinking. There will be many things that will irk you, many times when you'll feel out of place but try and get over all those feelings as quickly as you can. There is no room for ego when you're building new relationships.

"And Rohit, treat him as your best friend. Share all your joys and sorrows with him. Couples can have disagreements, but friends are always there for each other."

I closed my eyes and slowly drifted to sleep on my mother's lap, her words of wisdom faintly becoming a part of my memory. I didn't pay any attention to them until earlier this month when I was about to lose it all - my love, my marriage, and my family.

*****

4.18 pm

I wake up with a start. I'm on the couch in Rohit's cabin, snuggled in the plush blue throw that's used to accentuate this monotonous room. I sit up and close my eyes. The headache has grown threatening to engulf my mental peace within its din. I'm praying for a glass of water but can't find the energy to get up and help myself.

I hear the door opening. The aroma of musk mixed with coffee greets my nostrils.

"Sona."

The timbre in the voice is unmistakable. I try to peg it - apprehensive, shaken, anxious. Yes. The voice sounds anxious.

"Water," I whisper.

Within seconds I feel a glass of cold water being gently placed in my palms. I take a sip, then another, and then gulp the rest of the glass in one go. The headache seems to subside a little. I open my eyes.

The grey near Rohit's ears is neatly visible. I want to reach out to reassure him but can't seem to find the energy to stand. So I pat the space near me on the couch, indicating that he sit down next to me. He does.

"How is Ma?"

"Still the same. No symptoms."

"Well, that's a good thing then, isn't it?"

"I guess so."

"I heard you spoke with Dr. Whitmer." Dr. Whitmer was a colleague of Rohit's who was treating COVID patients in Italy. "What did he say?"

"He said if Mom continued to stay asymptomatic for 10 days, to test again."

"And?"

"And I don't know Sona. I wish I did. But I don't."

He places his head on my shoulder and I somehow find the energy to loop my arm around him.

"Yes, you do Rohit. You do. You know Ma will be fine."

"I truly hope so."

"She will."

He smiles. I smile too. Nobody knows what tomorrow has in store for us. But hope, hope is a wonderful thing. It allows us to go through the deepest darkest chasms. Because we believe there is always light at the end of the tunnel.