I wonder how ants find traces of sweet from nowhere

"That's why I wonder how ants find traces of sweet from nowhere", Professor Raman said as he finished his 10 minute speech and the hall roared into claps from every corner, which till then had been hearing him like never before. That was the last day for Professor Raman in the university where he had been teaching for the past 25 years.

He was turning sixty. He knew what his wife would be cooking for him when he would go back to his home. He had been a good husband, more good a father, as people said, both his sons were well settled in the States. Professor Raman, as people called him, his students, his neighbors and everybody else, sometimes his wife and sons too were heard calling him by that name.

Recently Professor Raman made history when he made an invention which scientists across the world are yet to understand. He was called at a conference at Geneva and then at NASA, but people are hardly understanding his theory yet, as what he says. Even his students in the college, many a times were heard talking about the infeasibility of his invention. Well, this clearly makes sense that any invention is never paid the credit in the same generation.

But there’s one person who had been assisting him all through, a student of the university, his favourite as people said, and maybe the only one who apart from Professor Raman is heard saying that he believes in the invention. But that day he didn't come for the farewell ceremony. Nobody had seen him either.

After the parting-off tea party, Professor Raman made his way to his chamber, where maybe the last time he was entering. He pushed the door and stepped inside. For a moment he stood silently and gazed around, the clock on the wall which was just like him, always awake, the desk over which some hundred papers were scattered, the dozen book shelf with all the titles of astrophysics and the half-open window, through which he had seen the rain clatter on the concrete, the early morning sun rays, the cold winds in long winter nights, day after day, year after year.

His chair, which was more than a chair for him, he knew. A part of his life was spent on it, for those nights when it served as a bed and the days when he just waited there thinking for the idea, which however finally did arrive. And then he saw the chair on the other side of the table. It reminded him of Raghav, the student who had been more like a shadow to him, working day and night behind his project till it could be finalized as an invention.

Raghav hadn't turned up for his farewell ceremony and Professor Raman's eyes had been continuously searching him when he stood there before the rest of the college, speaking for an hour. Raghav had been more than a student, a friend, who forsake'd his call from an US university just to work on Professor Raman’s project.

Professor Raman opened the drawer of his table. His drawer was almost empty because things which he used to take out once never found their way back inside and this very much told the story behind his table’s disheveled look. Inside he saw a half-crumpled paper with something scribbled on it. He took it out. It was Raghav’s handwriting. He had a very bad handwriting but Professor Raman could read it even with his eyes closed. Professor Raman hurried for his spectacles while trying to flatten the paper so as to read what Raghav’s has written for his dear Professor.

Dear Raman Sir,

I know it’s very awkward for me to call you dear, maybe for the first time I am calling you so, but I don't remember writing to you before, so thought it would make you something but happy. You must be thinking on my absence today but after you have finished reading this letter you will come to know.

Sir, before I tell you about anything, let me clear a few things, which came up to my mouth several times before, but I never spoke.

There were times when it was very difficult for me to even sit before you and stop my tears from rolling out. Times when you scolded me like a dog for my silly mistakes, especially the one I made in that differential equation, or when you didn't even see me for the whole day when I came 15 minutes late, or when I wanted to leave for my hometown but you didn’t allow.

And there were times also, like when you consoled me after my parents accidental death and how you promised to pay my fees in the college, how only you in this world remembered my every birthday and how we two in the middle of the night celebrated my birthdays, how you kept patting me for hours when I proposed that perception concept which till date I think was very obvious.

Sir, there has been numerous moments when I had hated you like anything but many more when I had loved you more than anybody else. The day you forgot your son’s birthday and sat with me to hear my childhood stories, I realized that we have come far and it’s something more than a teacher student relationship between us. Although you spoke less, but by now I was dexterous in reading your eyes and so were you, I guess.

But it all changed the day we arrived on the conclusion of our project. The project that was more than anything for us, for which we toiled hard day and night till that eventful dawn when suddenly we both realized how near we are towards an invention.

You went to Geneva and then to NASA, all over I heard people talking about you, but did you ever in the midst of all those think about me? I sacrificed my Oxford’s call just to stay with you and complete the project. But when it got completed, you simply forgot me? But guess what, I took that as well, as your love.

Then I heard about your retirement and that you wouldn't be coming here anymore. Did you ever think what would this student of yours do without you? And then the day before yesterday when you called me in your chamber for the final time, you told me to look for some other Professor for my doctorate. Now I ask you this, was it all a doctorate degree that I have stayed with you?

I can sacrifice my name for the project but can never accept the fact that I wouldn't be seeing you around. Because the only home I know is your chamber and maybe the only person I know in this world, it’s you. This unexplained feeling, through which I am going now, nobody else but only you, can understand.

Sir, do you remember, you always said, “I wonder how ants find traces of sweet from nowhere”, that was your favorite pastime quote, which then I never understood. But today, let me tell you this today that I have found the answer.

Sweet for me today, is Death. Maybe the only answer left for me. And I am sure by the time you will be reading this letter, I would have found it.

Professor Raman was motionless. The letter slipped down from his hands. A drop of tear trickled down on his cold face behind his thick glasses. His face was still and his hands trembled. The silence was broken by a phone call.

With trembling voice he picked up the receiver and said, “Yes”.

“Raman Sir, this is the Principal. Sir, some good news for you…the retirement gift you wanted? It has arrived. Yes just now I got a call from the Patents office. They have agreed to name the invention as Raghav’s effect. Also the patent would be copyrighted against his name. Isn’t this wonderful? It was difficult but it was only because of you that it happened. Okay, now I guess you would like to share this with Raghav. So I won’t take any more time of yours. I just wish he should have been there when you spoke only about him for those 40 minutes, and even about your favorite quote on how you used to puzzle Raghav with that.”

That was all meaningless now, Professor Raman knew. He kept the phone and slowly picked up the letter. There was something more written in the footnote. He read aloud, “Tell me Sir, how's the afternoon, how it looks from your favourite window? Is the sun shining over the green leaves?”