A tale of twins — a short story

The doctor’s opinion was decisive, even peer-reviewed: the duo were neither identical nor fraternal twins. No coercing or pleas changed their mind. The family was defiant too, crowding and circling the hospital bed, host to the two lives, to the extent that now alien thoughts had no room to sneak in.

The family, covering three generations, jointly played an age-old game, in which they spotted and marked commonalities, with their eyes, eyes that flowed into their heart instead of brain. Family members drew imaginary circles on the duo, in no particular order: both had brown eyes that carried the vastness and silence of desert into them; round mouths that were exit paths to sounds trying to take shape of words; fists so tight that lines of life had no room to escape; sharp noses that breathed life in and out methodically; their bodies staying still like painted on the white bedsheet canvas underneath them. The list seemed endless.

Emotions burst into tears and smiles, when the family witnessed the peak of excitement and shouted, “Oh my God! Look! Look!”, as the twins turned sideways to face one another and stretched their limbs to hug.

Even strangers, who merely glanced sideways, while crossing the common alley in the medical ward, and caught a glimpse of this saga said, “This is magical.” Members of the extended family and friends hurriedly paced in hospital corridors for their turn, to see what others have seen, to speak what others have already spoken. Even the night sprawled its wings to encapsulate and protect the family and their emotions from any further Earthly interference.

Next morning arrived, and the destiny that brought the twins together now separated them: the newborn received his birth certificate and his grandfather failed to collect his death certificate.