She came to his office a couple of days later. She knocked and walked in without waiting for his permission. He realized that it had become her habit for quite sometime now. Especially when she was sure nobody else was inside.

“Hi!”

“Hi Paridhi. You had some work?”

“No. I came… Just like that…”

“I thought you would be busy.”

“Why did you think that?”

“Last term. Placements. Then your wedding preparations… When is it anyway?”

She sighed.

“What happened?” he asked.

“I didn’t come to bother you with these things. I just thought… I actually have a lot of time in hand. I am applying only to selected companies for placement. There are only three courses to be done this term. Can I continue the independent study project? Not for credit, of course. Just to keep myself busy.”

“You can, if you want to. But what are you trying to run away from?”

“It’s a daily roller-coaster. They neither leave me out of it, nor do I have any say in it.”

“What happened?”

“Every other day, there seems to be a problem. Sometimes about jewelry, sometimes about dates for engagement and wedding, sometimes about nothing at all…”

“If the families have so much problem, why do they want the wedding?”

“God knows.”

“Probably they enjoy the dance. It is part of the ritual. You shouldn’t bother.”

“How do I not bother? Mummy keeps calling. And when she gives me some respite, Dadi is more than willing to fill the void.”

“Is it worth it, Paridhi?”

“Don’t give me more self-doubts than what I already have.”

“I am sorry. Do you have any specific ideas about the project, you’d like to work on?”

“Not really. You must be working further, right? What was your plan?”

“I was thinking of extending the study to other Indian states of that time. Nizams in Hyderabad, for example. You can pick up one such state to study. We can also do comparisons of the economic policies of different states.”

“Sounds good. Anything to get me started?”

“I will send you an e-mail.”

“Okay. I will see you later.”

He saw her walking out. She looked pale and sickly, her mental agony showing up in her physical condition too. Her gait was listless. The question she had refused to answer kept bugging him. Was it worth it? Will it really make her mother happy? What was the guarantee? And even if it did, for how long? Won’t her unhappiness and disappointment seep back into her mother’s life too? And if it didn’t, if her problems would never bother her mother, was such a mother worth all the sacrifices?

And for some reason, his own old pain came back to fore. It hurt him until he had to ask. Was Stacey worth all the pain and hurt he was carrying? Probably not. He should move on. He wanted to move on. Move on to what? To whom?

—

It was a Saturday evening. She had gone to Allahabad, her home, for the weekend. Her mother wanted her there to help with preparations. And Subrato was pacing up and down his living room thinking constantly about her. Nothing about this impending wedding sounded right. Apart from the short conversation she had with Aniket before the term started, she had not talked to him at all. He was too busy, according to his parents. So, even the wedding could not happen before June. Paridhi’s mother wanted at least the engagement to happen soon, if he could not come for long enough to get the wedding done. The promised dowry money was being given to Aniket’s parents in installments almost every week. When they raised concerns about the expense of his coming to India twice – once for engagement and then again for wedding, her family had gone ahead and offered to pay for his India trip for engagement, in addition to the already absurdly high dowry. He was to come in the last week of February for the engagement. It was already nearing the end of January and hence all the hurry of preparations on Paridhi’s mother part.

Subrato was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of doorbell. It was past seven in the evening. Who would it be at this hour? Definitely not a student. He opened the door still preoccupied with his thoughts of her. It was like a personification of his thoughts. It was her at the door.

“What happened? You came back already?” he asked as he stepped aside to let her in.

She looked like she was just waiting from come inside in the privacy of his house. She started sobbing even before he had closed the door behind them.

“Hey. What’s wrong? Stop crying Paridhi. Talk to me.”

She was about to slump on the floor, when he caught her, “That’s enough. Stop crying. Come here. Sit down.”

“As soon as the money for his tickets was given to them, they changed the plan,” she was able to talk only after a couple of minutes.

“Changed the plan?”

“He is not getting any leaves. So, he will come directly for wedding. Mummy freaked out and…”

“And she blames you.”

Paridhi nodded.

“Don’t listen to her. She is just disturbed.”

“She… And Dadi… They said things I don’t have the heart to repeat.”

“This has to stop Paridhi. This can’t be healthy. You can’t marry this guy. You can’t go to such a greedy family.”

“They have already pocketed at least seven lacs rupees of dowry.”

“Who cares!”

“My family does. They won’t let go. Let’s not talk about that. Please. I… I have to adjust. I just don’t know…”

He held her by her shoulders and pulled her in a gentle hug. She did not resist. “This is not fair,” he mumbled, “You don’t deserve this. Please don’t let them do this to you.” His gentle embrace tightened into an intimate hug effortlessly. From both their sides.

She came to her senses first and pulled herself away. Subrato looked lost for a moment before the realization dawned on him. Damn it! He was no longer just her confidant. He was no longer just an observer in her story. He was a participant in it. Whether he willed it or not.

But before he could gather his thoughts and say anything, he heard her mumble, “This isn’t right. This is disastrous. Do you understand that?”

She didn’t wait for his reply despite asking the question and ran out of there. Subrato helplessly sank into a chair lying nearby.

That night he made the call he had been unable to make up his mind about.

—

To be Continued