“What? How?” Mukundo was shocked and could not help asking at this point. She didn’t know. What she did know, however, that she had donated blood while in college and had been tested earlier. So, this was a recent development.

“Must be Pronab then,” Mukundo said looking horrified.

“He refused to get tested. He claims that even if he has it, it would be because of me… Because I…”

“He is accusing you of cheating?” Anger rose in him again.

She nodded.

“What the hell. He is… Oh my God!” it suddenly dawned on him why she was so reluctant to talk. “With me?” He asked incredulously.

She nodded.

“He thinks I have AIDS?”

She just bit her lips.

“Because I go to bad women?” Suddenly he didn’t feel awkward discussing this with her.

“Mukundo Babu, please…”

“That’s why he threw you out, instead of helping and supporting you? He thought you were cheating? Why didn’t you tell Mashi?”

It turned out that Debangi didn’t trust Piyali either. She herself had suspected Piyali’s and Mukundo’s relationship. And that was one of the reasons she had jumped on the first chance to get her married. “She asked me to stay away, to not bring ill-name to the family. She didn’t want to ruin Priyendra’s prospects.”

“And that’s why she asked you to stay away from me too?” Mukundo asked with a chill in his voice.

She didn’t say anything, but it was obvious that the answer was a ‘yes’.

“That has been enough of nonsense,” he said in the same voice, “Pack up whatever you have to, and come with me.”

“I can’t,” she panicked, “I will not come with you Mukundo Babu. That would…”

“That would what? Why should you suffer for other people’s stupidities?”

“It would upset Ma. Baba is bedridden for months, Mukundo Babu.”

“If she doesn’t understand her own daughter…”

“It is also your reputation…”

“My reputation? What reputation do I have that I have to think of?”

“Think of mine, then,” she pleaded, “I can’t go back to the same people with this scandal on me. I don’t have that much courage, Mukundo Babu. And how will it all affect Priyendra? He is young. He shouldn’t get caught up in all this and get distracted.”

Mukundo sighed. That logic was irrefutable. “But I can’t let you stay here.”

“I’m fine with it.”

“I’m not. Until I make other arrangements, you will stay in a good hotel. Let’s go from here. This moment.”

“I need to inform the landlord. There is rent to be paid… And notice period”

“Give me his contact. I will arrange for his payments.”

“Mukundo Babu…”

“Time for pretenses is up, Piyali. I should never have let you get married. Look at what has happened. Irreversible damage has been done. But, it can’t continue like this. Let’s go. I don’t want to stay here for another moment.”

—

Mukundo had started painting again. Piyali was settled in a well-furnished two-bedroom apartment. She had left the teaching job she had picked up at a school and had joined the university for her post-graduation. “I know you have started to like teaching. But you also wanted to study, remember? Do your post-graduation and teach at a college. Who will stop you?” Mukundo had argued.

He had taken her to a specialist doctor.

“It has been diagnosed very early on,” the doctor was encouraging, “We do not have a cure for it yet. But with medicines, viruses can be kept in check and there are all the hopes that, with some precautions, she would live a normal life for many years to come.”

Mukundo had beamed at the assurance, even as Piyali had shifted uncomfortably in her chair. She knew that the treatment would be expensive and the doctor also mentioned that next.

“So long as it isn’t beyond the money I have, there is no need to be bothered about it,” Mukundo had replied firmly, “And even if it is so, just tell me. I will figure out where to get the money from.”

The doctor had chuckled at that. He knew Mukundo’s background, “No. It is very much within what you have, Mr. Thakur. But it is still substantial. So, I had to mention it.”

Mukundo had shrugged at that. Before they left, the doctor had stopped them to give one final piece of advice hesitatingly, “Medicines or no medicines, the danger of transmission is always there. So, you have to be careful about that.”

Piyali had turned red on hearing that. Mukundo had held her hand tight as he had replied, “We understand that, doctor. There is nothing to worry about.”

He spent most of his free time at her apartment, giving rise to more gossips amongst servants and neighbors, who wondered about his regular absence from his house. She had refused to have any house help here and he had respected that wish. It was good in a way. There was no danger of any news of her traveling back to Debangi and others back in the house and neighborhood. Piyali could live her life secluded from her earlier society as her mother wanted and as she herself wished. But she wasn’t living with any compromises at least.

She cooked every day. For herself as well as him. “I had no idea you cooked so well, Piyali,” he had told her the first time she cooked.

“Nothing surprising. Ma had been training me since I was thirteen!”

“You never cooked anything for me earlier.”

“Ma bothered me so much about it that I used to get annoyed. So, I never did it willingly. Although what you ate at home once in a while would have had something cooked by me.”

“Hmm…”

He often cleaned the house while she was at the university. She had been horrified the first time she had come back to squeaky clean house.

“Who did this?”

“I did!”

“You?” she was shocked, “Oh God! That’s… absurd Mukundo Babu. I would have done it. How can you…”

“I am fairly fit and fine, Piyali. I am not that old. I can do a bit of physical work,” he had joked.

“It’s not that. Mukundo Babu. If you are worried about my studies, fine. I will keep a house help. You have never lifted a finger all your life. Why would you…”

“Because I like it,” he had told her sincerely, “Because I want to make this place a home. Something I haven’t felt in a long time about any place. Not since Ma died anyway…” His voice had drowned.

“I’m sorry. Please don’t be sad,” she had urged.

He had smiled sadly, “Am I imposing myself on you?”

“No,” she had been overwhelmed, “If you like it, do it. But if you stop liking it, if you get tired, or if you find it to be drain on your time, please stop doing it. I am used to it and I can do it very easily.”

He hadn’t stopped doing it. Instead, she had gotten comfortable with the idea that he would work around the house. Slowly, she even started coming forward and asking him for help, when she felt tired or felt that she could use help.

They bought grocery together. He insisted that she should buy more dresses for herself. After initial hesitation, she had given in. She even got him a few new shirts and kurtas of her choice.

She had hung the painting on the wall. “You don’t have to keep it, Piyali,” he had said, “It must give you pain.”

“I don’t associate it with him, Mukundo Babu. You had given it to me. That is all that matters,” she had replied with a disarming smile.

Life had fallen in a rhythm. If someone watched them, they would have looked as good as a married couple. Except that he never stayed there at night. If someday her secret life and existence was to be revealed to anyone who knew her, they need not raise finger on her character. He wasn’t bothered about his own!

—

To be continued