“Do you want to grab something from your home before leaving?” he asked after she was seated in his car.

She shook her head, then asked as he started driving out of the institute, “Don’t you have to grab something?”

“No,” he replied plainly.

“Talk Rupali,” he said as they pulled up on the state highway. It was narrow and was not in the best condition, but it was the shortest possible route to her hometown.

“She has heart troubles and is also severely diabetic. Surgery is highly risky. So, doctors have been avoiding it. She had a bad attack today.”

“Someone is there with her?”

“I told her so many times to resign and come to stay with me. At least a good hospital would have been close-by. My aunt is there, but she herself is out of her wits. Uncle is not in town.”

Paritosh remembered that Rupali’s father had died in her childhood. Her mother worked as a lecturer in the women’s college in her town. Although she stayed with Rupali’s uncle and aunt, she had always supported herself and Rupali on her own. The house they stayed in was ancestral property.

“Then you must keep your wits together, Rupali.”

She nodded and tried to keep her tears in check.

“So, you had come back for her?” he tried to keep a conversation going.

She nodded again, “She never let me know the exact extent of her problems. I sometimes think that staying in US and flying her there for treatment might have been better. She’d have gotten better care.”

“People from world over come to Tata Memorial for getting treatment, Rupali. We’ll get her here and she’ll get the best treatment possible.”

“She is so stubborn,” talking was helping her and she continued, “Her health was deteriorating, but she won’t leave her job.”

“She is used to her independence.”

“I know. She has brought me up all by herself. Kaku was also too young when Baba died. He could barely support himself. But I can take care of both of us now. But she just won’t let go. I won’t hear another argument from her any more. If only she survives…”

“Don’t lose hope…”

“How have you lived with so much of hopelessness for so many years, Dr. Khanna? I already feel drained.”

“Don’t lose hope before you have to.”

The conversation went on intermittently until they reached her home. Paritosh noticed her keeping the pen in one of her pockets, as she rushed inside the house. She hadn’t tossed it aside even in her current distraught state of mind. Something inside him melted at that moment.

Rupali’s aunt was indeed out of her wits. It took some effort to get enough information out of her. The attack was bad, but Rupali’s mother was stable for now. However, the blockage was serious. The doctor had advised them to take her to Mumbai immediately and get expert opinion there.

Rupali spoke to the doctor on phone and they decided to take her immediately. “We will take the national highway,” Paritosh said, “It will be a longer drive, but road is good and hence safer.”

Rupali nodded. She was conscious of how much trouble he was taking for her. But she had no options but to accept his favours at that time. She wasn’t in a position to handle it by herself.

—

Back in Mumbai, the doctors decided to keep her under observation for two days before deciding on the surgery.

“Can I suggest something?” he said when they came out of doctor’s cabin. It was almost midnight by then.

She looked at him questioningly.

“Don’t go on a leave. You will just worry yourself to sickness. Work will keep you occupied. You are not needed here anyway. Your mother is sleeping. And you can always come back after classes. Take leave when they decide to operate.”

Experience speaking, she thought! But before she could make up her mind about his advice, her thoughts went back to the incident from earlier that evening. How abruptly had he withdrawn his hands and left? He hated her, didn’t he? He didn’t want to do anything with her. And yet – here is was. Driving her around, helping her admit her mother, helping her cope with the situation… Shouldn’t she at least try to clarify? He may not believe her. But…

“Dr. Khanna,” she began slowly, “I don’t know how to thank you for everything. It is no secret to me how generous and kind-hearted you are. But by doing so much for me, you have surpassed even yourself. I know how much you hate me. My presence makes you uncomfortable. But you always bear it gracefully. I am… I am so sorry…”

“Rupali,” he stopped her and thought for a moment about how to reply. He had to say the right thing. She shouldn’t feel miserable on his account, “I do not hate you and I have come to terms with my mistakes. There is no need for either of us to be uncomfortable with the other.”

“Mistakes?”

“Yes. Mistakes. And mine, not yours. Bets like those, pranks… They were natural for you. You were young. I should have known better.”

“Natural for me?”

“I won’t lie. I had felt humiliated and I was angry at you. Angry enough that I had decided never to see you again. I had left the institute at the first chance. But now, I realize my mistake. It was all so wrong. And not because of your bet. In fact it was good that it was a prank from your side. If you had been serious, it would have been even more disastrous. And I would never have been able to forgive myself for misleading you. It was a big, horrible mistake from my side. I had gotten carried away. I hope you have moved on from that.”

With every word of his, she felt her world crumbling down once again. He had let go of his grudges and anger at her. But not because he believed her feelings. Not even because he gave into his own feelings for her. He had done so because he thought those feelings were wrong? He was saying that if her feelings had been genuine, it would have been wrong. But those were genuine! It meant that she could have no hopes of her feelings ever being accepted by him. They were wrong in his eyes. Wrong! He hoped that she had moved on. Moved on from the ‘mistakes’. But if moving on was needed for her, it was not from the ‘mistakes’, but from her feelings. And she hadn’t moved on from those. Not because she hadn’t tried. She had tried. But…

That night was fresh in her memory. David, whom she had met through common friends and whom she had been dating for a while, had come to her house. They had gotten into the bed together. They were still making out when her phone had beeped. The sound was irresistible to her. She had created a small application that notified her every time there was a Google alert for his name. Paritosh’ name. It was that application. “I must see this,” she had pushed David away and picked up the phone. It wasn’t about him. It was some other Paritosh Khanna. A small-time TV actor, whose alerts she often got and felt disappointed. The disappointment showed this time too.

“What happened?” A frustrated David had asked impatiently.

“Nothing. I was waiting for something.”

“You can tell me. You look so disappointed.”

“Nothing Dave. I think you should leave. This isn’t a great time.”

Her mysterious behaviour had infuriated him in past too. And they had been together long enough for him to press on and forcibly take her mobile to see what was on it. “Google alert? Who is Pa-ri-tosh Khan-na?” He had pronounced the Indian name with some difficulty.

“He was my professor during undergraduation,” she had come clean. There was no point in prolonging the game.

“What the fuck! You have a Google alert set up on him?”

“I just follow his research.”

“You get out of bed to see the alert and send your boyfriend away after that. I am sorry, but that is more than just following the research, Rupali. This is unhealthy obsession to say the least.”

“You are making a mountain out of a molehill,” her protest had been weak.

“Very scholarly expression. But no. I am not making a mountain out of a molehill. I should have known. Your coldness should have been a dead giveaway. I don’t know what I was thinking. If possible get a hold of yourself, and don’t toy with people when you have nothing to give to them. See a psychiatrist. Good bye, Rupali.” David had gotten dressed and was out of the house within a minute. They never talked again. She had spent rest of the night awake, head buried in her hands. Giving up on every hope of moving on!

“Rupali!” Paritosh’ voice brought her out of her thoughts, “Are you okay? I am not angry at you, not any longer. I am telling you the truth. There is nothing to worry about.”

“I am fine,” she lied.

He had said the right thing, hadn’t he? But it didn’t seem to do her any good at all. Then he remembered a two-year old video she had, a pen clutched on to desperately and kept in the purse safely even in her most tumultuous moments, and her jumping towards him and panting with worry about his fingers in the door groove. Had. He. Said. The. Wrong. Thing?

“Dr. Khanna. You should go back home. I will stay here for the night. I will come back in the morning.”

“But…”

“Thank you, Dr. Khanna. For all the help. I am not going on leave. I will be back in the morning. Good night.” She turned and went away without giving him a chance to say anything. He looked on for a while; then turned to leave. She had also looked back. But after she was sure that he would have turned.

—

To be continued