“Hi Stacey. This is… Subrato.”

“Subrato?” she didn’t know how to respond. They hadn’t spoken in over a year. They had even blocked each other on Facebook to avoid awkwardness. “Hi…” she added after a hesitant pause.

“Don’t be alarmed. It’s nothing about the past. I do need an unrelated favor, however. It is really, really important for me.”

“Anything I can do,” she sounded almost eager. She probably wanted to assuage her guilt about the way she treated him. Right now, Subrato did not mind exploiting it.

“It might be uncomfortable for you, but there is nothing wrong in it. It is really a question of someone’s entire life.”

“Why are you beating around the bush, Subrato?”

“I hope you remember something about the arranged marriage tradition in India I had told you about. There is an Indian guy in your office. He is an engineer, not a designer. But I was hoping you could tell me something about him.”

“What.. can.. I… tell…”

As Subrato had guessed, it was an uncomfortable proposition for her.

“Anything you know. Especially if there is a red flag. Just think if there is any reason why you wouldn’t want your best friend to be engaged to him. His name in Aniket Chauhan…”

“Hold on. Say that name again.”

“Aniket… Aniket Chauhan,” Subrato americanized his pronunciation of the name to help her place him in her memory easily.

“That Indian guy… he is a test engineer if I am not wrong. He had a major accident a few months back. He is the one getting married?”

“Yeah. Why? You sound surprised.”

“I, of course, am… He can’t get married. Not after the accident.”

“What has happened?”

Subrato heard in shock what Stacey told him next.

“Do you… happen to have a photo of him Stacey? Any office photo?” he asked after she was done.

“I do. There was an office party recently. But…”

“It won’t be traced to you. Trust me on this. Please. I need to be sure we are talking about the same guy”

“Okay… Fine…”

—

“Catherine!” Subrato spotted her in the academic area and called her.

“Yes Sir.”

“Where is Paridhi? I haven’t seen her for last one week. She had one of my books…”

Catherine gave a knowing smile. His excuse for asking about Paridhi was rather lame. “She has gone to Allahabad. She wasn’t feeling well.”

“In the middle of the trimester. Just like that?”

“I don’t understand her these days. You can call her about the book.”

“Her phone is switched off. Would you happen to have her home number?”

“I, in fact, do. Tell me your mobile number. I will SMS it to you.”

“Thanks. Please note down…”

—

One full ring had gone unanswered on the landline number Catherine had given him. Feeling hopeless, he still decided to give it another try. It got answered this time. And the voice made his heart skip a beat. It was definitely her.

“Paridhi?” he asked.

“Don’t call me again. I will get in trouble.”

“Meet me once, please. It is very important. I won’t do anything you find inappropriate. But there is something about Aniket you need to know. Please Paridhi….”

The phone was disconnected. He grew more and more agitated. He didn’t know that she was crying at the other end. “I’m sorry,” she was mumbling repeatedly holding the phone close to her heart. She wasn’t angry at him. She was angry at herself.

She couldn’t just throw away her studies like that though. She had to go back. She decided to take the train to Lucknow that afternoon itself. She was in his office before dinner time.

His relief on seeing her was obvious.

“How are you?” he asked.

“I am fine. Aniket is coming for engagement after all. Here is your invitation.”

He took it from her with a trembling hand.

“Do you have a photo of Aniket?”

“Why?” she did not get his drift at all.

“Just humour me. Do you have one? If yes, please show it to me.”

“Mummy had sent me some initially. They should be in my mailbox.”

“Please use the laptop and download them for me.”

She was completely confused, but she humored him as he had asked. He knew the face well by now. He had stared at the photo Stacey had sent for too long. They were of the same person. All, except one, photographs of Aniket that Paridhi had showed only the upper body. The only full-length photograph was obviously old.

“Can you please sit down, Paridhi?”

She obliged.

“I have a photograph of his as well,” he said finally, “which you must look at.” And he handed her a copy.

She was shocked. “What is this… A wheelchair?”

“It’s not just about the wheelchair. His… He had a major accident few months back. It’s the entire lower body…. He shouldn’t get married Paridhi. His parents are playing a big game…”

“Stop!” she almost shouted in anger.

“Paridhi!”

“You are the one playing a game… I respected you so much. I trusted you so much… And this is how… If you had asked me to rebel against my family for you… I might have relented… But this… this dirty, pathetic game… No. You can’t play this with me. I am not an idiot. And I hate you!”

“Paridhi, there is no game.”

“Not a word more. This time… I am not running away from you. I am going to stay in the campus. But don’t you dare come near me or try to talk to me.”

“Please listen to me… This is…”

But she didn’t wait and stormed out of the room.

—

Paridhi threw herself on her bed in the hostel room and buried her face in the pillow. Nothing made any sense to her. She took a look at the photograph of Aniket in a wheelchair that Subrato had handed over to her. It was with a group of people. Possibly in his office. She made to throw the photograph away, but didn’t finally do that. A part of her wanted to throw it away. But another part of her couldn’t suspect Subrato of playing a game the way she had accused him of. But if he was indeed playing a game, wasn’t she herself responsible for it? Didn’t she practically throw herself at him? Wasn’t she already aware of her feelings? Shouldn’t she have stepped back instead of relying on him not getting affected by them? If he was playing a game, she was responsible for it. She was at fault! Always! So, even if she shouted at him, blamed him, accused him, she’d have to ensure that nothing goes wrong from now on. But what was she to do? Aniket and his family were not going to get any better. Her mother won’t start looking at the world in a different way. What would happen to her? To her family whom she was trying so hard to please!

She thrust the photograph in a bag that she’d take with her to Allahabad and tried to concentrate on other things. Not that it was working out for her!

She was at fault! Always!

—

To be continued