‘Are you sure, Rhea?’ asks my mother

‘Of course I’m. Survival of the fittest, mother. I’m not going against Darwin. Also I don’t want unnecessary scars on my body.’

It’s a known fact that we are all born to die. And frankly, I don’t understand why it has to be made into such a big deal. If it were not for my mother I would have said that to the bunch of people outside my house, some of them with young kids, shouting slogans, waving placards, literally wanting me to cut one of my beating hearts out. “Save A Life. Donate!” they shout.

For someone who is one in billions, 7.125 billion to be exact, I expect to be treated better. Scientists are still befuddled regarding my condition that gave me two hearts in my mother’s womb. But years of research and sticking needles into me have led them nowhere, and they have labelled me as a freak mutation. It’s so rare – literally one in all humankind – that they didn’t even name the anomaly (as they call it, I will call it awesomeness). I wanted to name the condition myself, something on the lines of Rhea’s Heartsawesome but the doctors aren’t thrilled with the suggestion. Instead they want to cut one of them out and save a life. Huh?

An IQ of 180, increased concentration, exceptional athleticism and a phenomenal metabolism rate – are just the few boring benefits of an increased blood circulation. Why would I ever give that up?

At 24, life ahead seemed like a cliché to me. After going through an excruciating ten years of ‘fix me’ initiative, I finally decided to take control of my destiny. That I would continue to be in the public eye or the butt of all heart jokes seemed to matter less. Yes, there were risks involved in going against medical opinion but making a life out of the condition I was given appealed to me more. That I had no laurels to rest against was a blessing in disguise. My accomplishments at school and college had been practically nullified on the basis of my medical condition. That I was allowed to graduate was an accomplishment in itself. I was now looking forward to the challenge of jumpstarting my life.

The press was coming home in the evening. I was sure my verdict would be marinated with a variety of spice and served in tomorrow’s newspapers.  But I had already visualized a life beyond the newspapers, media and the people outside holding placards against Rhea’s heartsawesomeness. There was no holding back.

‘Are you undergoing surgery to remove the additional heart?’ was the first question

‘I’m afraid I’m not’, I replied.

‘Aren’t you concerned that your condition may cause complications as you grow older?’ was the next question

‘I will live for as long as my body allows me’, I responded.

‘What about saving another life by donating your additional heart?’ came the third.

‘I will donate both the day I’m no longer able to sustain them in my body’, I replied.

The conference went on in this fashion for another twenty minutes. When the reporters were convinced that I would not add fuel to the fire, they let me off.

I woke up the next morning feeling a bit blank. I did not have a fight to wage. It felt a bit strange at first. The monotony of waking up every morning with the story of two hearts had been broken and I wasn’t quite sure what I would replace it with. But the change was refreshing. As I sipped coffee and helped mother with breakfast, my mind veered into the direction of work. I wasn’t quite sure what I would do next but did know that the two hearts would be fully involved.

While I was lost in thoughts, my phone suddenly rang. Noticing an unknown number, my initial instinct was to ignore the call. But I took a chance. A Mr. Satyajit was on the line and asked me if I had a few minutes to chat. Reluctantly, I said yes. Satyajit was the founder of an NGO called ‘Infinity’ and wanted to meet me to discuss a career opportunity. I couldn’t really connect the dots at that point but nevertheless agreed. The meeting was to take place in a couple of days at a coffee shop close to my house.

I spent the next two days researching about ‘Infinity’. ‘Infinity’ was a Sports NGO for the differently abled. Its primary purpose was to train such individuals to achieve sporting accomplishments. A few of its stories were quite amazing. I read about a group of blind members who climbed the Himalayas and swam across the English Channel. I also read a little bit about Satyajit. Born to industrialist parents, Satyajit had started this NGO at the age of twenty seven to advance his interests in sports and philanthropy. But there was something about him that did not add up. His voice and appeal did not meet the written description and I hoped to find out more about him when I met him.

As I walked into the coffee shop, I heard someone call my name from the corner. Satyajit was already there. As we exchanged pleasantries, I found it hard not to feel his charisma; he was dressed professionally, was impeccable in his mannerisms and wore a cologne that reflected his gentle yet magnetic personality. I wouldn’t say I was smitten but he had my complete attention. He did not waste much time and came straight to the point of discussion. After talking briefly about the institution, he asked me if I would be interested in taking up the role of a trainer at his institution. Specifically, he wanted me to train some of his members for triathlons. I did not know how to swim and this role was as much a challenge to me as it was to those I had to train. I was excited. Though I was inclined to take up the job, I asked him to give me some time. I wanted to be sure that this is what I wanted to do and that my mother would be okay.

When I told mother about what lay in store for me at ‘Infinity’, she smiled and said,

‘I have already experienced the sorrow of losing you. Therefore, every day that I see you alive is already a blessing. That you have an opportunity to use your evolution for a good cause makes me so happy and proud’. That was everything I wanted to hear and I called Satyajit the next day to accept his offer.

My first few days at the institute were a revelation. The campus had everything that professional athletes needed to train. Most members who signed up for the various programs lived in the campus where they would undergo the training required to fulfil their tasks. The institute also had trainers for the various sporting disciplines. I was amazed to see such a professional setup for those who were pitied more often than considered as equal.

Satyajit was a constant companion during these days. He accompanied me to each facility, introduced me to every member and trainer and went out of the way to ensure that I was acclimatised to the new surroundings. He gave me a free hand to design the training program. His confidence in my abilities surprised me a little but I assumed that the story of my two hearts had reached him before me. He gave me a batch of ten blind members to start with. The irony of the situation hit me hard at first. Satyajit was the first to notice it and gently put his arm around my shoulder and said;

‘Rhea, they want to feel as awesome as you do’.

His demeanour and passion for the cause he stood for shook my senses. For the first time, I realized that there were stories far bigger and much more encompassing than the one I was beseeched with until now. That I had an opportunity to shape and bring those stories to the limelight filled me with tremendous excitement. The importance of Satyajit in my life began to take a new shape as I dived into the program.

After analysing the training requirements for triathlons, I prepared a regimen where the members would complete the triathlon with sensory aids. Rope walls were constructed at the training center to allow the members to run and cycle the respective distances. Training camp was setup at the local river front to acclimatise the members with swimming with and against the tide.

Satyajit joined me in each one of these endeavours. I felt as if he was desperate to see me succeed at this task. As I passed each training milestone, I could gauge the undercurrent of his joy and relief. Despite being with him for six months, I didn’t know much about his personal life. It was evident that he cared immensely for me but he never really opened up about his life. There was something he did not want to reveal and I decided not to probe his need for privacy.

The triathlon initiative was a big success. Nine out of the ten members completed the triathlon successfully. At the event’s success party, I had a different story to present to the media and the world. That the story was not about the two hearts was my accomplishment. For once, all the attention was on those blind members who had accomplished the seemingly impossible task. As I watched the coronation of these members with pride, Satyajit pulled me aside and led me away from the crowd. My heart beat or should I say beating of my hearts increased with every step. When we were alone, sufficiently away from any living being, he held me in his arms. Minutes passed by. He did not speak a word and I stood there besides him for as long as he felt the need for comfort. I did not seek any answers. He finally kissed me on the forehead and said ‘thank you’.

I did not see Satyajit at the institute for the next two weeks. When I enquired at the office, I was told that he was on a short vacation. Days at work during this period were just not the same. I had grown accustomed to having Satyajit around and his absence puzzled and irritated me. When he came to work two weeks later, he looked weak. His walk was stuttered and he breathed heavily. When I enquired him about his health, he asked me to come to his office. Confined amidst four walls, Satyajit was struggling to come to terms with what he wanted to say. I sat beside him, held his hand and urged him to speak. As he unravelled the mystery of his life, earth began to slip away from under my feet. He had a terminal heart condition and was not likely to live beyond six months. Heart transplant was an option but he was unwilling to extend his life beyond his natural time. And he teasingly added that he did not want unnecessary scars on his body. I realized how similar we were and how difficult it must have been for him to take such a decision. Everything began to make sense; His need to setup this institution and to find someone like me to succeed him to take this institution forward.

The next day, I asked him if he would like to go on a vacation with me. Though surprised, he agreed. I rented a cottage in the Nilgiri forests for a month and set off with Satyajit after ensuring the smooth execution of responsibilities at the institute. The privacy of the forests accorded Satyajit the time to reflect upon his life. He spoke, laughed, cried and experienced his life via a lens that he had never pictured before. We walked along small trails, swam in the beautiful lakes and sang songs sitting beside bonfires. On the last night at the cottage, I proposed to Satyajit. He accepted and we were married soon after. Satyajit passed away five months after our marriage. At his prayer ceremony, I celebrated his life. I was content in knowledge that his endeavours would continue to inspire his team at the institute and one day, his child, growing in my womb, would represent his story to the world.