“Hello there!” Paridhi was startled by Subrato’s voice at Imambada.

“What are you doing here?” she asked abruptly.

“Now this… is definitely not a private property.”

“Actually it is,” Paridhi smiled, “Not mine though. Waqf board’s! I am sorry. You startled me.”

“Just saw a familiar face around… By the way. This is my cousin – Sonali. She is a Lucknow veteran and thinks I can’t survive in the city on my own. And Sonali – she is the one who gave me a ride to the institute on my arrival in the city. So, you can thank her for ridding you of your guilt…”

“Stop exaggerating my concern Subrato. I didn’t get your name… Oh. I have to take this call. Excuse me,” she walked away as her mobile rang.

“So, you came here alone?” Subrato asked Paridhi.

“Yeah.”

“Wow! I would find it very awkward to do stuff alone.”

“I come here alone very often.”

“Why?”

“Just like that. How many people would be interested in coming to Imambada with me? That too again and again.”

“What about your best friend?”

“My best friend?”

“Catherine, I think!”

“How do you know she is my best friend.”

“Well – the two of you are spotted together quite often in the campus.”

Paridhi laughed, “Yes. But outside the campus, she could be spotted more often with her boyfriend. That’s who she is with right now. So, I am left to my own devices and I am not complaining. Anyway, I was planning to leave now…”

“Sonali will drop me. We could give you a ride…”

“Oh no! Not needed. You should continue with your plan…”

“There is no plan… Here she is… Sonali…”

“Subrato,” Sonali looked hurried when she came back, “Emergency at work. Some client is going berserk. I need to go immediately. How do I drop you…”

“Oh. Don’t worry. I know enough about the city to find my way back.”

“But…”

“Don’t worry. You also have to go back, right?” Subrato turned to Paridhi.

“Yes. But I will be taking an auto…”

“Can we share it?”

“Sure. You don’t have to worry Ma’am.”

“Thank you so much. Subrato. I will catch up with you later. I am so sorry…”

“Don’t bother. Handle your work. See you later. Bye.”

—

“So, you don’t have a boyfriend?” Subrato asked Paridhi casually on their auto-ride back to the campus.

“Huh?”

“Sorry. That sounded intrusive. I was just continuing our earlier conversation.”

“How is that related to our earlier conversation?”

“You mentioned that your friend was with her boyfriend and you are left to your own devices. So, obviously the next question that came to my mind was this.”

“Hmm… Okay. Since you explain the origin of your question so logically, let me answer it. No. I don’t have a boyfriend. And I am unlikely to ever have one.”

Subrato laughed, “The second part of the answer is dishonest. I’m already surprised that you don’t have one and you are talking so strongly about not having one in future too.”

“Why are you surprised? You think girls with verbal diarrhea must have a boyfriend?”

That made him laugh again, “Verbal diarrhea?? You are saying that about yourself? You are very aware of your own self.”

“Whatever.”

“Anyway. To answer your question, if my college days experience are anything to go by, you are too intelligent and attractive to be left alone by boys.”

“Thanks for the compliment. But no. I can’t have a boyfriend.”

“Can’t? Why not?”

“Can’t afford those complications. My family is too conservative for that.”

“I see,” her honest confession about her situation suddenly made it awkward for Subrato.

“Anyway. Why are we talking about these things? What does your cousin do?” she changed the topic.

“She is a designer. For clothes and accessories. Specializes in bridal attire. Her customers keep going berserk all the time.”

“I can imagine! I have seen my cousins during the days leading to their wedding. They go crazy about every little thing. I don’t understand the madness.”

“Well. People want their special day to be perfect.”

“How does it matter? Especially if the rest of the life is going to be a compromise, something much less than perfect.”

“You sound very pessimistic about marriages?”

“I don’t know what’s wrong. Why are we going in the direction of discussing relationships and marriages again and again?”

“Your bad luck, I guess,” Subrato grinned, “Would you prefer discussing Econometrics?”

“I think so.”

“How are you finding the classes?”

“Good.”

“I was looking for some honest, critical feedback.”

“In that case, well… it’s too basic sometimes. But that’s the fate of most of the classes in any course. You have to take the entire class together. That’s your job.”

“Wow! You have a gift for this. You suddenly made my job sound very depressing.”

“I am sorry. That’s not what I meant,” Paridhi replied sounding sad.

“I was just joking!”

“It wasn’t a joke. I do tend to see too much bleakness in the world.”

“And the verbal diarrhea is a way to not let that show?”

“Are you an Economist or a Psychologist?”

“You don’t need to be either to have some common sense.”

“Well… ” her phone rang and she picked it up, “What… No Mummy… Not now… Let me at least reach the hostel room… I am with friends… No… Just stop… Okay? Stop it. I will call back! Bye.” It looked like she had disconnected the call against the wishes of her mother. She did not look at Subrato after the call and kept staring outside the auto. Subrato looked at her curiously, but decided not to interfere further.

“Do you know the story of Imambada?” she spoke suddenly with a perky voice that was characteristic of her usual verbal-diarrhea-self.

He knew the story. The tour guide at Imambada had narrated it to him just a while back when he was there with Sonali. But he still said no. She needed to talk to deal with whatever was bothering her. He decided to indulge her.

She explained the story to him in detail, adding a few exaggerations on her own from what the guide had told him. He couldn’t help noticing the exaggerations, though he did not point them out to her. She went on about how Nawab Asaf-Ud-Daula commissioned the construction of the Imambada in a time of famine to provide employment to people. The common people built the Imambada during the day time. The noblemen and elites broke it down at night as they could not do anything else. The see-saw continued until the famine was over.

“It is rather Keynesian, don’t you think so? And much before Keynes,” she added at the end.

“It indeed is,” Subrato was impressed by her economics related observation. It had  precisely been his thought too, when he had heard the story. This intervention was very similar to the one done in the US to overcome the great depression. And the economist behind the theory that guided the intervention was the legendary John M. Keynes. Imambada had happened much before that!

“Have you been to the Residency?”

“Not yet.”

“You can see the holes made by canons during the seize of 1857.”

“I see…”

“Though their size is rather small. I was underwhelmed when I saw them for the first time. I had imagined some huge holes in the walls.”

Subrato chuckled at that, “What else should I know about Lucknow?”

“Kebabs to eat, taanga to ride, chikan to wear, super-formal nawaabi language to speak and mujra to watch. I can’t help you with the last one though. Don’t know where can you find that.”

Subrato laughed out loud at that, “You are funny. And amazing. I think I can do without mujra. Where do you get good Kebabs?”

“Roadside.”

“Ah!”

“That won’t work for you, would it? You probably order bottled water in the restaurants.”

Subrato sighed, “As a matter of fact, I do. Is that too bad?”

“Not for me. But for you. There are things you can’t enjoy.”

“Right.”

“Did that sound offensive? I didn’t mean to…”

“Nope. That didn’t sound offensive at all. Only practical.”

“Great. We have reached. You can do the rest of your research on Lucknow on Wikipedia now,” she smiled.

“Or you can take me along on one of your lonely trips to the city and guide me.”

“I enjoy my lonely trips.”

“Did I disturb you today, then?”

“No. It’s good to break the monotony once in a while.”

“Hmm…”

“My hostel is here. I will pay…”

“This ride is on me. Good night.”

“Good night.”

—

To be continued