The play was about a painter, who was so engrossed in his art that worldly cares meant nothing to him. He died over his half-finished painting, penniless. After his death, however, his paintings became a rage. The half-finished one sold for crores of rupees.

“What are you thinking?” Paritosh asked while coming back.

“Is it possible to love something so much… Even if it is your art…”

Paritosh laughed, “I don’t know. I have never done that… Though I would love to.”

“People talk about finding peace and contentment in art – of different kinds – painting, singing, dancing, even writing… I wonder if that is possible.”

“I probably won’t die over a half-finished surgery, but I do think I find peace and contentment in my profession. This profession is also like an art…”

Rupali looked surprised at the comparison, “I never thought of it like that.”

Paritosh smiled, “They create paintings, songs, dance performances… We create health, smile, joy, comfort… So, why not?”

“You are right, as usual, of course,” she smiled sweetly and appreciatively.

“If you treat me like some sort of God, I might even go ahead and say that we create life,” Paritosh grinned, drawing a chuckle even from Rupali.

“Where are we going?” she asked when she realized that he did not take the turn towards her home.

“I will drop you later. First we are going to my house. I want to show you something.”

“Is it what you had promised to show me during coffee the other day?”

“Yes.”

Paritosh led her to a room which has obviously not been in use for a while when they reached his home.”Oh my God!” Rupali could not help exclaim. He had just uncovered a beautiful, huge painting of Victoria Memorial and its surroundings. “It’s yours?” she asked obviously awed.

“It has been years…”

“I am no art critic, Dr. Khanna. But this is beautiful. And all these are also your paintings?” she pointed at other covered canvases.

“Yeah,” he looked around wistfully.

“Wow. When did you get time to do all these?”

He chuckled, “Those days we didn’t have Internet to waste our free time on.”

Rupali uncovered a few more of the canvasses. There were paintings of various places in the city, some landmarks, some just slice of life paintings. Then she came across a portrait of an elderly man.

“That’s Daar ji,” Paritosh explained.

“You did portraits too?”

“Not often. Only for people whose memories I wanted to preserve.”

“Daar ji posed for you?”

Paritosh smiled fondly, “He wouldn’t hear a word of it. I did portraits from memory.”

“You don’t paint any longer?”

“Like I said, it has been years.”

“Why did you stop?”

He just shrugged in reply. Rupali moved to different corner of the room.

“No Rupali….” Paritosh tried to stop her from uncovering the canvas lying there, but it was too late. Rupali realized immediately why he was stopping her. It was a portrait of Chand. Half-finished.

“I… I am sorry… I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Her guilty apology surprised him, “No. What the… There is nothing to feel guilty about.”

She smiled nervously, “You should resume painting…”

He looked at her for a moment. Then replied looking thoughtful, “I probably will.”

—

“Are you on duty this Sunday?” Paritosh asked her. They were having breakfast at his place after a night duty. Their duty timings coincided more often than usual these days. Rupali wondered if that was pure coincidence. He had been extra attentive to her as well. He spent a lot of his free time with her. She liked it. She liked it more than she should have liked. But what was it on his part? Care? Friendship? Or was he also thinking what everyone else did? Kaku, Radha, Kakima, Chand…

“Rupali?” he had to call her to bring her out of her thoughts.

“Uh? Sorry… Did you say something?”

“Where are you lost?”

“Nowhere. I didn’t manage my day well yesterday. Am really sleepy after the night duty.”

“Hmm…”

“What were you saying?”

“I asked if you were on duty this Sunday?”

“Umm… no. I had a weekend duty last time.”

“That’s great then. You can come to the convention then?”

“Convention?”

“Regional Pediatrics Convention. It is scheduled for the weekend in Darjeeling. I can’t take off on Saturday. But we could go for Sunday’s sessions. Will have to take a train on Saturday night. Some very good speakers are lined up…”

“Darjeeling?” Rupali did not seem to have heard any other word in what he said.

“What about Darjeeling?”

She smiled, “Mummy & Papa had met in Darjeeling. He taught in her school.”

That made Paritosh smile too, “You haven’t been there before?”

“It’s so close. But no… Somehow I have never been there.”

“Then you must come.”

Rupali suppressed the questions that were bugging her. What was it all on Paritosh’ part? She had an irrational hope. That she would find some peace in Darjeeling.

—

Paritosh took the upper berth on the second AC coach of the train. He seemed fast asleep, but Rupali was unable to sleep. It was one of those days, when she would curl up on her bed and cry the entire night. Not quite knowing why she was crying. But she couldn’t cry in the train. It would wake not only Paritosh up, but also other co-passengers. She was restless. Finally she could not hold herself any longer. She got down from the berth and walked towards the restroom. The attendant of the AC coaches was not there. She was thankful. She let her tears go, thought she bit her lips to avoid making any sound. After a while it was not enough. She was still suffocating. She gingerly walked towards the door of the coach and opened it. Hopefully the cold, night wind will soothe her. She stood there for several minutes, when she suddenly felt a pull on her shoulders. She was pulled back by someone urgently and violently. Her throat was sore from crying, and no sound escaped her, although she was startled and scared.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?” she heard his angry voice. It was Paritosh. Oh God! Why was he angry? He took his hands off her shoulders and quickly locked the door back. “Are you out of your mind?” he was still shouting at her. Why? Oh! It suddenly occurred to her.

She coughed and finally found her voice, “Don’t shout at me. I wasn’t jumping off.” She wiped her tears with the back of her hand. She was startled out of crying. Though that strange sadness which engulfed her from time to time, even amidst best times of her life, refused to leave her.

Paritosh sighed heavily. Then spoke very softly, “Why are you crying?”

She didn’t reply. She didn’t know.

“Does it happen very often?”

Should she lie and put him at ease? Friendship didn’t mean he had to deal with her mess. But she didn’t lie. She nodded in reply.

“I’m sorry. I was scared out of my wits, when I saw you at the door… Of a moving train.”

She gulped and did not reply.

“You probably want to be alone,” he added, “But it is not a good idea. If you don’t want to go back yet, let me stay here.”

“But I don’t know why I was crying. It wasn’t Rohan, or my past or…”

“I’m not asking you the reason. I understand.”

“You do? How?”

He sighed, “I have been through this Rupali. Depression, suicidal thoughts. It still comes back sometimes.”

She smiled sadly, “You are saying this just to make me feel better.”

“No,” his reply was unhesitant and firm, “I’m telling you the truth.”

“What do you do when that happens?”

“I get help.”

“How?”

“Want to guess?”

“Oh! Dr. Mathew?”

He nodded, then asked “You haven’t seen him yet, have you?”

She shook her head, expecting a rebuke.

“Are you better now? You want to go inside?” He completely changed the subject, catching her unawares.

“Uh? Yes – I guess. I’m sorry.”

“For?”

“Disturbing your sleep. And… not taking your advice.”

“Rupali. You don’t need to apologize to me. I had guessed you hadn’t taken an appointment yet. But I won’t pester you. There is no magic about a psychiatrist. Things take time to get better. If you are not ready, and don’t cooperate, it isn’t going to work.”

“I give you too much grief, too much worry, don’t I?”

“If you must take the conversation in that direction Dr. Rupali Banerjee. Then listen to me carefully. You give me a lot of hope – of surviving through difficulty, a lot of joy and a sense of purpose.”

The chill that ran down her spine was nothing like what she had felt earlier in her life. It wasn’t the chill of scare. She looked at him in astonishment and then quickly averted her eyes. She walked back to her berth quietly. Paritosh did not climb back on his berth. “Lie down,” he asked her gently. After she did, he sat down on the edge of the berth. “Close your eyes and try to sleep. We have a long day ahead.” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She did manage to sleep peacefully for the rest of the night.

When she woke up in the morning, Paritosh was still sitting on the edge of her berth, leaning back on the coach wall and had fallen asleep. She carefully pulled her legs towards herself and sat up without disturbing him. She looked out. The train was halted. She read the name of the station. They were only two stations and half-an-hour away from New Jalpaiguri station. From there, they would take a hired car to Darjeeling. She got down and went to the bathroom. She would wake him up after coming back.

She met with a harried Paritosh on her way back. He looked relieved, then embarrassed on seeing her. She realized that he was worried again and smiled, “I am fine Dr. Khanna. I just thought I would let you sleep for a while more.”

“Of course,” he grinned, “I was… I guess I am still sleepy. I will go and freshen up.”

“Sure.”

—

To be continued.