Mouli and Asim were still talking when Paritosh and Rupali came back. They overheard part of their conversation as they walked in.

“Since I come to Mumbai so often, I have a house here too. Didn’t like spending too much time in hotels. I am going to Kolkata tomorrow morning. Have a concert there in the evening. But I will be back after that.”

“A concert tomorrow evening? You should have travelled earlier.”

“Travelling today had been the original plan.”

“You cancelled because of Rupa’s invitation?” she asked looking emotional.

“To be fair to her, she had asked me for Friday night. But weekends were booked. I came for you.”

“You have been an idiot Asim, you know that. You should have moved on.”

“I have been an idiot forever. You know that very well. Else we both know that my family could have supported us initially. My priorities were wrong. Despite all that, despite there being no reason for it, I had a hope. Of at least getting back in touch with you. A hopeless hope, I agree. Because the way it was fulfilled was a pure coincidence. If you hadn’t been dragged to that concert, if I hadn’t noticed you, if your daughter had not been so sensitive, if she hadn’t taken the initiative… Yes. It was a hopeless hope.”

Paritosh smiled on hearing ‘hopeless hope’. That phrase resonated with him.

“They are back,” Mouli noticed Rupali and Paritosh, “Come here. I think she has come to remind me that it is time to sleep.” Mouli looked at her daughter fondly.

“I can relax it for today,” Rupali replied.

“No,” Asim said resolutely, “I also have to travel in the morning and need to be rested before the concert tomorrow. You must go to sleep Mou. Can I… call, once I am back in Mumbai?”

Mouli nodded.

“I will e-mail… no SMS you her number,” Rupali said.

Asim grinned at that. “Do you mind storing it in my phone right away? I don’t know how to use SMS either. And I don’t want to go to my secretary for that.”

Only Rupali got the context and laughed at that. “Sure,” she said and entered the number as Mouli and Paritosh looked on quizzically, not understanding their private joke.

Rupali explained to them later what he had told her about e-mail and they shared the laughter. Paritosh left soon after and Rupali sat beside Mouli, “You are not angry at me, Ma. Are you?”

Mouli affectionately patted her cheek, “No. And I am sorry. I scolded you and had almost ruined the evening.”

“Please Ma. Don’t apologize. I am not sure surprise was a good idea. I didn’t know what the past was like. It could have been horrible, I realized later.”

“Don’t think like that.”

“You must sleep now. It is already later than usual.”

“Yes,” she got up to go to her room.

Rupali stopped her once, “Ma.”

“Yes?”

“Please don’t get angry at what I am going to ask.”

“Just ask Rupa.”

“Do you want to get married?”

“What! No. Don’t be ridiculous. It is your marriage I am thinking about.”

“You have thought about me all your life, Ma. But right now…”

“No Rupa. It’s too late. We are different people. If you want me out of your way, I have your Baba’s house to go to. Your Kaku and Kaki don’t mind.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ma,” Rupali used one of her mother’s pet phrases without realizing it.

“I was joking, sweetie. Have a good night.”

—

Rupali found an envelope at her desk one morning with her name written on it. She knew the handwriting well. Since the time he had graded her answer papers and left comments on her project reports. And only he had the spare key to her office. She smiled as she opened it and her smile grew wider as she read through the note sitting inside.

“Through my dark past,
Through my present insecurities,
Through my misunderstandings,
Through my hesitations,
Thank you, for keeping up
Your hopeless hope.
Thank you, for giving me
A hopeless hope.
Thank you, for fulfilling
That hopeless hope.
Thank you, for giving me strength
To hope for more than hopeless.
And with that strength
I ask –
Will you marry me?

A responsible son, husband, son-in-law, he definitely was. But he had the ability to be a hopeless romantic as well! She thought for a moment and then took out her notebook. She started modifying something she had written a few days back on his encouragement.

“Tranquillity of night
Gives way to
Clarity of day.

Coolness of night
Gives way to
Brightness of day.

Escapades of night
Give way to
Acceptance of day.

Hopelessness of night
Gives way to
Hopes of Day.

Loneliness of years
Has to give way to
Togetherness for life.

Yes!

—

Paritosh read it and then looked up with moist, bright eyes. He went to the office door and locked it. For once, not caring about what anyone would think. He held her and informed that his divorce had come through. She had guessed as much. Then he cupped her face and bent down for a long kiss sealing their fate together. He didn’t let go of her even after breaking the kiss. His hands moved back and dug into her hair. He then directed her head to his chest and put his other arm around her to embrace her. Her arms which were resting on both sides of his chest went around his neck completing the embrace. She didn’t know much about perfumes. But whatever he used had such subtle, intoxicating smell that it must be something costly whose habit he had acquired in his days of extravagance. Between the perfume and his body, it had become his smell. Something she was very familiar with by now. And very much in love with. Desire was probably a better word, she thought truthfully to herself. And then her prayers were answered. He whispered to her in a bold, demanding tone, “I want you Rupali. Tonight.” She shivered at the suddenness of his demand, rather the declaration. He had said that he “wanted” her. But his voice made it clear that he had “decided” that he would have her. Her heart started pounding faster than she had imagined it to be possible. But none of her reactions meant a complaint. She had dying to have this moment with him for years now. She snuggled up even closer to him and that was her reply.

This other-worldly tour in the middle of his office was interrupted by a knock on the door. Paritosh broke the hug unwillingly and looked at the door with mild irritation. “What couldn’t wait?” he mumbled; then looked at Rupali, “I will get the door. Don’t come out unless absolutely necessary.”

She nodded. It was someone from the director’s office. The director wanted to meet him in the afternoon.  “Fine. I will be there,” Paritosh tried to keep his voice as controlled as possible. He guarded the door until the visitor was out of sight. Then he did not close the door again.

“Is Mrs. Banerjee’s plan of visiting Mr. Sen still on?”

Rupali only nodded. She would have to search for words in her throat. They seemed to have deserted her in the aftermath of anticipation created by Paritosh.

“If you don’t have anything important to attend to in the afternoon, let’s go to her before she leaves and tell her about this. After my meeting with the director.”

“Tell her about what?” The shock overcame the anticipation and Rupali found her voice. She was thinking about nothing other than his declaration that he wanted her that night.

“About our decision to get married.”

“Oh!” He was talking about the proposal and acceptance, official engagement, wedding. Of course! What was she thinking?

“What did you think?”

“Nothing. I was just a little lost. Let me know once you meeting gets over.”

“Rupali,” he stopped her as she made to the door. She looked at him curiously. “You weren’t so lost that you didn’t hear me, right? You heard and understood me, didn’t you?”

She gulped and nodded. His insecurities! Will they ever go away? Even if not, she was willing to fight them all her life. “Left to my understanding and preparedness,” she added in a low, soft voice, “we wouldn’t have to wait till now.”

She left Paritosh desperate and satisfied at the same time. Her bold reply had increased his desire for her.  And had also assured him of her desires for him.

—

“I have done it wrong twice earlier. And you didn’t try to correct me, Mou. If I am doing something wrong again, please correct me. But don’t let me suffer for it.”

“What are you talking about?” Mouli asked as she sipped her unsweetened ice tea. Asim had found out from Rupali that it had been the drink of her choice since she was diagnosed with diabetes.

“Marry me Mou. And if you are going to say ‘no’, tell me how to make you say ‘yes’. Please.”

“Did Rupa tell you something?”

“About?”

“This?”

“No. Why would you think so?”

“Just wanted to be sure. Asim, my daughter is planning to get married. I have to think about her wedding, not mine.”

“Let me help you with her wedding, Mou. Let me be the partner to you that I have always wanted to be.”

“You won’t help me if we were not married?” Mouli asked looking amused.

“Words! They are your biggest weapons, aren’t they? I didn’t mean that. You know that very well.”

“Yes Asim. I know that. And you also know that I was joking.”

“Why are you refusing me again?”

“Asim. I never had an artist’s eccentricity. I was never as irreverent as you were. Otherwise I could have waited for you all those years ago, instead of succumbing to my parent’s wishes. I am still the same person Asim. Getting married at this age… I don’t know how to feel comfortable with that idea.”

“It was for your parents’ wishes then. Who are you sacrificing for now? Do you think Rupali will dislike it?”

“Rupa?” Mouli laughed affectionately, “No. No Asim. She is a mature and open-minded girl. She has the conviction to get married to a man many years his senior, a match that is definitely going to cause some raised eyebrows in the society. But she doesn’t care. She, in fact, persisted in her love and fought hard against his insecurities…”

“Something I couldn’t do.”

“She did have some advantage of my counsel. But her own belief was the most important part. She asked me much before you did if I wanted to get married. She is not my problem, Asim.”

“Then?”

“I don’t see myself as a victim of circumstances. I had loved you despite knowing what you were – an artist first, a lover much later; and despite knowing what I was. A conventional girl next door first, everything else later. I hadn’t been coerced into my marriage Asim. It was a result of my own choices. The choice of fulfilling my parents’ wishes, because ignoring them for my artist lover and living an uncertain life was not a comfortable situation for me.  Today too, it is I who is not comfortable in announcing to the world that I am getting married. This old woman has grown from the same simple, conventional girl next door. I still don’t have the irreverence. Nobody would coerce me, my daughter would not judge me, even I would not judge if someone else were to do this. But I… I won’t be able to do it.”

“There definitely is something that I don’t see here. Last time also I had assumed that you were resolutely against marrying me, because you didn’t find me good enough. But it turned out to be something else.”

“The only other thing that nobody other than me sees here is that I am on death’s door, Asim. I have not given you anything all my life. I haven’t been a part of your life for most of it. I don’t want to come in with death now. No.”

Asim sighed, leaned towards her and took her hands in his, “Why have you gotten it in your head Mou? Your surgery has been successful. The follow-ups show great results.”

She did not reply and looked at him with a helpless ‘I-can’t-explain’ expression.  He grew desperate, “Mou. It’s not like I am young any longer. But whatever little time I have left with me, finding you feels like I have gotten another chance. I don’t want to lose you once again… Please…”

“And you have done nothing wrong this time, Asim. That is not a regret you will ever have. I am the one who is lucky. To have found you a third time. I don’t want to squander this chance away either. But the time to be together in a worldly sense is over. We have been star-crossed lovers. Let’s be the soul-mates we have always been. Let’s not try to give this connection a name now and invite all the associated complications. I have been through them and I don’t have any strength left.”

“Fine. So long as you are happy and we are together, I will ask for nothing else.”

“I am. But are you?”

“I have more than I deserve. Name, fame, money, and you!”

—

To be continued