“Beautiful night! Sombre mother of Day!
Scarcely less resplendent and delightful,
And even more mysteriously lovely!”

Paritosh recited a poem sitting on Rupali’s verandah.

“You wrote that?” Rupali asked.

“No. It is by somebody called C. B. Langston. Had read it on Internet. Don’t know anything about the poet though.”

“But it must have been written for a night like this.”

“Hmm…”

“Why did you fall in love with night, Dr. Khanna?”

“It obscures everything I don’t want to see. What remains are silhouettes, outlines… You can fill them with your imaginations. Your imaginations can be as happy as you want.”

“I had never thought I would find night so attractive?”

“Why did you fall in love with it?”

“Because it started giving me what I couldn’t have at any other time.”

“But night is ephemeral. It won’t last. Nor would anything it gives you.”

“So is the day. What is not ephemeral?” She bent and rested her head on his knees, “But while the night lasts, it is a bliss.”

She felt his hands patting and caressing her head. She was woken up by him after a while. She did not know what time it was. He whispered to her, “Close the gate after me. Sleep well.”

—

“You write poetry, don’t you Dr. Khanna?”

“How do you know?”

“When I asked you yesterday if the poem was yours, you weren’t surprised. So, it could have been yours.”

Paritosh would have laughed. But he couldn’t make that kind of noise at night. So, he controlled it to a chuckle. “Very clever, Dr. Banerjee.”

“Recite something for me, please.”

“Poets are known to be narcissists, who write boring stuff and think very clever of themselves.”

“I wish… The only one I know is so full of self-doubt that… Anyway. Recite one, please.”

“It’s in Hindi.”

“I understand Hindi.”

“मन के पीछे चलने वाले,
मन के साथ भटकना होगा।

हाँ, अभी देखी थी मन ने
रंग-बिरंगी-सी वह तितली
फूल-फूल पे भटक रही थी
जाने किसकी खोज में पगली।

पर वह पीछे छूट गई है
इन्द्रधनुष जो वह सुन्दर है
अब उसको ही तकना होगा।”

(Author’s Note: If you don’t read or understand Hindi, please see the transliteration and translation in the previous post)

She stayed silent for a moment, then asked, “You believe that, Dr. Khanna?”

“Here. Now. In this world. I do.”

He leaned towards her and put his arms around her. She was sleeping on his shoulders, when he woke her up. “Close the gate after me, Rupali. Good night.”

—

“This coolness in air,
Tranquillity, silence so rare,
No concerns, not a care,
Dreams and imaginations flare.

Who are those unfortunate creatures,
Who lose their peace at night?
A thousand sunny days cannot
Match up to a moment this bright.”

“This one is yours,” Rupali declared.

“How do you know?”

“I just know.”

“You are so sure?”

“Now I am.”

“Now?”

“If it wasn’t, you would have objected as soon as I claimed it was yours. In the true spirit of avoiding plagiarism and giving accurate citations.”

Paritosh chuckled.

“I am dead serious,” Rupali pouted and although he could not see it, he could feel it.

“I’m sure you are.”

“I tried finding poems about night on Internet. But most people, including poets, seem to find nights gloomy.”

“Why don’t you write one yourself?”

“I don’t have the talent.”

“You have the heart. Don’t worry about rhyming or techniques. People like us don’t have to adorn the pages of literary textbooks.”

It was her turn to chuckle, “I guess not.”

He put his arms around her and pulled her closer, “We can write for ourselves.”

“And for each other,” she mumbled as her heavy eyelids closed. The next thing she remembered was being woken up by him. Her head had been resting on his chest. “Close the door, Rupali. And go to your bed.”

—

And so the days… rather the nights went by. It had been over a week since Rupali and Paritosh had met accidentally after midnight. And effect of their surreal nightly meetings was evident in how she felt the entire day. Happy, spirited. Despite the fact that the entire week she hadn’t seen him during the day at all. After the first night, she had thought of meeting him the first thing in the morning. But then she had remembered. “There is a beautiful, peaceful world we see here, Rupali. But it would be impossible to recreate it in the morning.” She didn’t think so. But if he did, what choice did she have except to respect it? She would not see him during the day unless absolutely necessary.

If she told her psychiatrist in US about this, he’d definitely declare them both unstable and in the need of psychiatric care. Probably he’d be right. But she didn’t care. She was happy and she wanted to be happy.

But the world of dreams could not last forever. It was close to six in the evening. She was about to leave, but had some administrative work to take care of. Meher was not at her seat and she had to wait for her. When Meher came back, she was visibly disturbed.

“Everything all right?” Rupali asked her.

“I don’t know Dr. Banerjee. What has come upon Dr. Khanna?”

“What about Dr. Khanna?” she was immediately alarmed.

“The last few months that he has been here, I have never seen him shouting at anyone, scolding anyone. Have you?”

“No. Never. Not even earlier.”

“And for last few days, he is getting on everyone’s nerves. Including mine and other staff. Scolding them for even slightest of what he considers oversight. He blasted me over a small spelling mistake in a letter right now. My ‘there’ and ‘their’ got mixed up.”

“Oh! That’s odd…”

“I am irritated right now. But if you ask me, I worry more for him. Something is terribly wrong with him. Anyway. Why am I boring you with all this? Just another day at work. You were waiting for me?”

“Uh… Yeah,” Rupali had difficulty remembering what she had come for, because her mind was busy trying to make sense of what Meher had told her about Paritosh just now. Why was he so disturbed? “These are some reimbursement claims,” she handed the papers to Meher, “Will you take care of them?”

“Sure.”

Rupali quickly signed the forms Meher asked her to and rushed to Paritosh’ office. The sight of him disconcerted her. He hadn’t shaven for at least two to three days. His usually impeccable clothes were crumpled. His eyes were red.

“Rupali?”

There was one thing about him, which would be obvious to anyone who met him then, but which Meher had not told her. He was drunk. And not one serving of a cocktail that wouldn’t have any effect on him. He was really drunk.

A stupefied, angry and perplexed Rupali did not stay there to ask for and receive any explanations. She turned back and ran away from there.

“Rupa. Is everything all right?” Mouli enquired with concern when Rupali came home. She had stayed in her office long enough to get a hold on her emotions. Even though it meant risking leaving her mother alone. The nurse had left at her usual time. She didn’t think her countenance gave anything away about her inner turmoil. Why was her mother so concerned then?

“Yes Ma. What happened? Why did you ask that?”

“Nothing. I… just…I think I sometimes worry too much these days.”

“Don’t do that Ma. And Ma. Now you can walk a little right? I will introduce you to the wives of some faculty members here. You can visit them, or invite them when I am not here. Staying alone with the nurse can’t be too good for you.”

“Paritosh spends some time with me every day.”

“That’s great.”

Mouli noticed a subtle change in her daughter when she mentioned Paritosh. Something was indeed wrong.

“Actually Rupa…”

“What is it, Ma?”

“Paritosh was acting strange today. He asked me so many times how you were doing and whether there was any reason to worry about you. If anything, I had noticed that you were very happy for last few days. So, I didn’t understand him. But he looked so glum and asked so many times without offering any explanation for his concern that I got worried.”

“What?” Now Rupali was positively angry at Paritosh. Had he come like that to her mother? Drunk, unshaven, asking questions that worried her? What was he thinking? “That’s unacceptable, Ma. He shouldn’t have worried you like that. I will ask him to stop seeing you.”

“Don’t do anything like that. He is a complete gentleman. I think he needs help. Something is matter with him.”

“Possibly Ma. But I can’t have you getting worried. It is not good for your health.”

“I won’t worry from now on, I promise. Don’t fret now. He is your boss. Don’t fight with him.”

—

To be continued