“I was wondering Mrs. Banerjee. You had understood my issues, my insecurities quite well,” Paritosh said while visiting Mouli the next day, “From experience?”

“Experience of loneliness? Yes,” she gave a small smile.

“And you never found someone who could give you company, with whom you could move on? Like you helped me do?”

Her face coloured, but she replied, “I had Rupa. I wasn’t as lonely. And I had her responsibility. You have none.”

“But the possibility of moving on was there? Which you sacrificed?”

“I will die a happy woman Paritosh. I don’t regret my choices.”

“That’s a good thing. But you really have to stop talking about dying. You scare Rupali. And me too.”

“I’m sorry. But I just feel it. Anyway. Let’s talk of happier things. When do the two of you plan to get married?”

“I haven’t talked to Rupali yet. But the divorce will take some time to process.”

“Of course.”

“And… I needed your advice about something.”

“Tell me.”

“Rupali wants to meet Amrit. Do you think that is advisable?”

“Arr… If she wants to meet, why are you asking me?”

“I just wasn’t sure…”

“Treat her like an adult Paritosh. I have let her make her own decisions always and have never regretted it. I am not going to meddle in her affairs now.”

“Right. I am sorry,” Paritosh suddenly felt foolish for having asked.

“No,” Mouli smiled, “Don’t be sorry. I feel happy when you ask me. Who else will you ask when in doubt?”

Paritosh was relieved and smiled, “Thank you.”

—

“Hello!” Rupali chirped entering into his office that afternoon.

“Rupali. Come,” he beamed without restraint and took his feet off the window sill where it was resting while his hand was busy playing with the paper-weight on the table.

“You were lost in thoughts. What’s up?” she asked as she came in.

Paritosh considered asking her to shut the door, but doing that too often would unnecessarily give rise to rumours in the department. So, he decided against it.

“You have Mr. Sen’s card?”

“I would have it in my purse. Why?”

“I think you should invite him over. For a dinner probably.”

“And why?” Rupali asked not particularly surprised by the proposal. But she wanted to see what Paritosh’ reasoning was.

“Well… It was obvious that he knows Mrs. Banerjee pretty well and was very happy to see her.”

“Dr. Khanna. Are you thinking what I am thinking?”

Paritosh chuckled, “Depends on what you are thinking.”

“I don’t know. Ma was so unwilling to go there initially. Then she didn’t like the idea of the front seats…”

“Because it would be costly?” Paritosh objected just for fun.

“So I thought initially. But later… Anyway. You know what I mean. Don’t badger me for the heck of it. All that obsessive collection of his albums over the years…”

“Obsession runs in the family, it seems. I am worried now,” Paritosh joked.

She raised her eyebrows, “I’d be worried about our kids. Obsession running on both sides of the family. They would stand no chance at all.”

“Kids? Thinking quite far Dr. Banerjee, eh?”

Rupali realized what she had said and coloured. “Stop annoying me,” she pouted.

“Okay,” he grew serious, “So? Inviting him?”

“I’m not sure, Dr. Khanna. She, obviously, doesn’t want me to know anything. That is, if our imagination is not running wild, and there is something to know. In either case, she might not like it.”

“I’d say let’s take the risk,” Paritosh was more comfortable with the idea after his chat with Mouli earlier in the day.

“But will he agree? He is a celebrity. A busy man… And his enthusiasm may not be real, after all.”

“At worst he would refuse. What harm could come from it?”

On hearing “at worst he would refuse”, Rupali recalled the time when she had thought the same about asking Paritosh for a favour. She smiled and nodded. “Fine. I will do that right away. Tomorrow is Friday night. If he is free, that is… My phone is in my office. I will go there.”

—

“Hello Rupali,” the mobile was picked up on the first ring itself, “How are you?”

Rupali was taken by surprise. He had her number? How? He had noted it down from her card? Why?

“Hello Mr. Sen. I am…” she started speaking her rehearsed line introducing herself, when she realized that he already knew who she was.  “I am fine,” she finally said answering his question, “How are you?”

“I am fine too. What a pleasant surprise to hear from you,” his voice was as eager as it had been on the day of the concert.

“Reaching you is a pleasant surprise for me too,” she had gathered her wits by then, “I thought I would have to explain to a secretary what business I had with you.”

He laughed at that. A carefree, unaffected laughter. “You have your mother’s wit Rupali. It is a good thing. How is your fiancée? Dr. Khanna, right?”

Rupali blushed even on phone. Referring Paritosh as her ‘fiancée’ was not something she was used to yet. “He is fine too,” she managed to say, “Mr. Sen. I was wondering if you would be free tomorrow evening. I know it is probably too much to ask you. Your schedule will be busy. But still… Could you have dinner with us?”

There was a silence for a moment on the other side. Rupali waited with bated breath. Was he too shocked that she took that liberty? “If you are busy…” she started offering him a way out.

“Rupali. Weekends are, unfortunately, busy with concerts and appointments. But does Monday evening work for you?”

She sighed in relief, “Yes. Of course. It works very well.”

“Great. So, I have to come to your campus?”

“Yes. Shall I send the directions and address by e-mail?”

He laughed slightly, “I am technologically illiterate, Rupali. That will certainly go to my secretary. But that should do.”

“And Mr. Sen,” she decided to be honest with him, “Actually… This is a surprise for Ma. I haven’t told her.”

“Oh!” Rupali waited with bated breath again. Will he refuse? “That sounds like a good idea,” he spoke to her relief, “It would be fun to see her reaction.”

“Great. Done then. I will send you, or your secretary, a mail,” she said jocularly, “Hope it won’t be filtered out.”

“No. It won’t be,” he replied. He was obviously smiling.

“Bye then, Mr. Sen. See you on Monday. At 7.30?”

“Looking forward to it. Bye Rupali.”

—

“Who is this friend of yours Rupa that you are preparing such an elaborate dinner?”

“You will see soon, Ma.”

“You have been in the kitchen the entire afternoon yourself. Why can’t Pammi do it?”

“Oh stop worrying! I am fine. Why don’t you put on one of your Asim Sen’s albums to play?”

Mouli raised her eyebrows, “So, this friend is an Asim Sen fan?”

“Possibly,” Rupali said. ‘He doesn’t sound that narcissist though,’ she thought amusedly to herself.

The doorbell rung at around seven.

“Looks like your friend is already here,” Mouli said, “Will you get the door? You haven’t even changed…”

“That must be Dr. Khanna, Ma. I will get the door. He will come by 7.30 or so.”

But Mouli’s words proved prophetic. She found Paritosh as well as Asim Sen at the door. She grew conscious about her attire, but decided not to worry on her count that day. “Please come in Mr. Sen,” she invited him in excitedly, “How did you two find each other?”

“He had passed by your house failing to notice the number and the only soul he found on the road to guide him was me,” Paritosh replied.

“Oh yes. The numbering is confusing here. Come here. Please sit. Ma is in her room. Let me call her.”

“Wait. Take this. These are for you.” Rupali smiled on seeing a packet of Bengali sweets.

“Thank you,” she said warmly, “I will get Ma. Dr. Khanna. Will you please keep him company till then?”

“Sure.”

But Mouli had already come out of her room into the hall by the time Rupali turned to leave. She looked shocked and for a moment Rupali regretted doing this. Was this too much for her sick mother? But Mouli overcame her shock and walked forward. She was still uneasy, but didn’t look angry. Rupali was relieved.

“Rupa. You never told me…”

“Mr. Sen agreed to our idea of keeping it a surprise for you, Ma.”

“That was sweet of him, but you must have troubled him so much for this.”

“I am very happy to be here, Mou,” Asim was smiling, but some mortification could be heard in his voice, “But if this is an inconvenience to you…”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Asim. Please sit down. It’s an honour….” suddenly her voice quivered and died down. She turned to Rupali, “Get him something to drink Rupa.”

“It’s quite hot today. I have made some fresh juice.”

“Make some tea,” Mouli said, “He is devoted singer. He won’t take anything cold.”

“Ohh! Okay…”

“Don’t bother her Mou. Rupali, it’s not that strict. Get me juice you have made and…”

Rupali laughed, “Don’t be so formal Mr. Sen. Making some tea won’t take more than a few minutes.”

“I’ll help you,” Paritosh said and before Mouli could object, he was out of the hall. He wanted to be out of their way.

“Help me in making tea? You are too much Dr. Khanna. Do you even know how to light a stove?”

“Don’t be fooled by my extravagance, Dr. Banerjee,” he replied in jest, “I have lived on my own most of my life.”

That made her serious, “That’s true.”

“Now don’t look so serious. I was only joking. I’m sure you don’t need any handholding for making tea. I just wanted to get out of their way.”

“Very thoughtful, as usual,” she said half-jokingly.

—

To be continued