Flap of the Wing
Post hoc ergo propter hoc
The cool air caressed my face as I entered the Eleqix Officium. It was a busy Tuesday — people rushing around, carrying important papers to be signed; distributors hurrying to deliver the day’s goods. I smiled and made short conversations with the familiar faces while making my way to the elevator. Beethoven’s Für Elise played slowly as the elevator lurched up to my office on the fourth floor.
On my way out, I noticed that the decorative flower pots on either side of the elevator’s entrance were unequally spaced. Troubled with a sudden itch, I took it upon myself to move one of them a few inches to the left, making sure that they were placed symmetrically and much closer to the elevator door. I nodded in satisfaction and my way down the corridor.
As I was about to take my seat, I heard a loud thud, followed by a man’s painful shriek. Whipping my head around, I saw Aakash — a pleasant-faced colleague — sprawled face down on the floor, near the elevator. I rushed to help him, as did a few others who were standing nearby.
“The stupid flowerpot!” he cursed. “It was sticking out, and I tripped on it!”
I gulped. It was the very same one I had moved just seconds ago.
Ravi, the HR manager, who also turned out to be Aakash’s good friend, pushed his way through the crowd and knelt before him. “Here, let me have a look at it”, he said, gently taking Aakash’s leg into his hands before carefully removing his shoe and sock. Aakash winced, barely holding in a scream. A woman standing nearby gasped.
“It’s swelling! Somebody take him to the hospital!”
I cursed myself mentally. If only I had left the flowerpot alone, where it had been initially.
Aakash seemed to disagree with the people gathered around him.
“No,” he countered stubbornly, “I have a very important flight to catch. In fact, I was asked to leave for the airport immediately after the company meeting. Besides, it’s probably just a sprain and nothing to worry about!”
The others weren’t happy with this. They immediately started objecting, to which Aakash kept shaking his head dismissively. He looked at Ravi, desperate for support.
“You know how important the deal is. I have to make it!” he persisted.
But Ravi merely shook his head. When he spoke, his voice came out rather firmly.
“No! You’re coming to the hospital with me right now,” he said, holding up a hand as Aakash opened his mouth in protest. “I don’t care how important the deal is. I’m sure the higher-ups will understand.”
Aakash started to argue further, but thought better of it and gave up. “Fine.” Ravi placed Aakash’s leg down slowly and stood up to help him. He moved to one side, put his arm around Aakash’s shoulder and looked around, silently asking for someone else’s help to hold Aakash from the other.
“I’ll do it!” I volunteered and lifted Aakash’s shoulder. Maybe I’ll apologize while we’re going down, I thought as we made our way into the elevator. But even as we crossed the lobby and reached the parking lot, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I wondered how irate Aakash would be if he knew that I was the reason he couldn’t make it to an important meeting. It was then I decided that this matter better be dismissed as an unfortunate accident.
As I helped Aakash into Ravi’s car, he smiled at me. “Thank you! You are too kind!”
Ravi broke into a smile himself as he got into the driver’s seat. “Thanks for the help. I’ll keep you posted on what the doctors say once they’re done examining his leg. Explain it to the boss and convince him if he asks why Aakash couldn't make it to Sydney,” he said as he keyed the ignition and shifted gears. With immense guilt, I watched Ravi drive away.
An hour later, I received the worst possible news from Ravi — Aakash had indeed fractured his leg and would be unable to make the journey. Too distracted to work properly, I decided to leave early that day, calling in sick.
As I was leaving, my eyes drifted to the flowerpots. Deep in thought, I didn’t notice the elevator open. “You coming in?” the man inside the elevator called.
“Yeah, sorry,” I replied, taking a deep breath before getting in. Even Beethoven failed to cheer me up on the way down.
I drove myself home and went to bed early. But despite being utterly exhausted, I couldn’t get a wink of sleep.
After pondering over the incident all night, I finally decided to visit Aakash the next day before work to apologize. Aakash’s response was secondary — what mattered most, I thought, was doing the right thing.
So the next morning, I woke up earlier than usual and made my way to the hospital with a bouquet full of roses that I had bought on the way. I briefly hesitated in front of his room.
Should I…?
With a sharp mental slap, I plucked up enough courage to push the door open.
Aakash was sitting on the bed with a newspaper in hand, pillows supporting his now plastered leg. When he looked up, he immediately put the paper down and gave a huge grin.
“How very nice of you to visit me!” he exclaimed, placing the roses I gave him on the bed stand beside him.
“I was just thinking about-”
But I cut him off. “Listen Aakash, I-um, before you say anything else, let me tell you something. The flowerpot you tripped on yesterday? I was the one who moved it. It is because of me that you fell and missed the meeting. I’m extremely sorry. I didn’t know-” I broke off, the words refusing to come out.
Aakash looked confused at first, but realization soon dawned on his face.
“You moved the flowerpot?” he asked slowly.
Unable to meet his eye, I nodded looking down.
There was a moment of silence. I waited for him to express his dismay, but nothing came. I looked up, surprised. Aakash was smiling, but rather sadly.
“I was supposed to fly to Sydney yesterday to sign a very important business agreement.”
When I opened my mouth to apologize again, he held up his hand to stop me. Without another word, he took the newspaper that lay on his lap and handed it to me. His face looked rather grim as he asked me to read the headline.
I did as I was told.
Flight 2096, en route to Sydney crashes: all 278 passengers on board confirmed dead.
Post hoc ergo propter hoc;
With this, therefore because of this.
This story was penned in collaboration with Sunil Jagatheesan.
