“What are these, Mukundo Babu?” Piyali was surprised when he tried to hand her several shopping bags that evening.

“Some sarees for you.”

“Oh! But I don’t need them. I already have…”

“Yeah. About them. Please stop wearing white. You are too young for that.”

She was startled. Then she looked away. Mukundo suspected that her eyes were getting moist. She took the bags from him without saying anything or meeting his eyes. Mukundo decided to leave her alone and made to go away. But she stopped him.

“Mukundo Babu,” she called him, “I wanted to ask you for something.”This act of him giving her sarees seemed to have introduced some familiarity between them and she had found the courage to talk to him.

“Tell me.”

“I have nothing to do here all day. You have so many servants. You don’t need them. I can do the housework.”

His smiled, “Let’s talk at the dinner table.”

—

Fish was served for the first time since their return form Uttarpara. Piyali, wearing one of her new sarees, a pale blue one, eyed the dish curiously. He scooped some out in a bowl, but instead of taking it himself, he passed it to her. “You like fish, don’t you?”

Her lips quivered. “I have forgotten what it tastes like.”

“Take it, then. It tastes good.”

She looked hesitant.

“Eat it Piyali. There is nothing wrong, nothing to worry about.”

Her hands were trembling as she mixed some curry with her rice and took the first bite.

“Is it good?”

She smiled nervously and nodded in reply.

“Great. Let me take some too.”

“So, are you settled in? Comfortable here?” he asked when they were almost done with dinner.

“Yes, I am,” she replied in a low, but sure voice.

“Don’t mind my questions. I just want to know about you. Have you gone to school?”

“Long back. Till class fifth.”

“So, you can read and write? Bengali?”

She nodded.

“English?”

“A bit.”

“Hmm…”

“I am not educated…” she said in a nervous, self-reproaching tone.

“But you can be.”

“How? It’s too late…”

“No, it isn’t. If you have the will… Do you want to study?”

“I… I don’t know,” she stuttered, “Should I?”

He sighed, “I’d prefer if you decide for yourself. But until you start doing that, yes. I think you should.”

“I can’t go to school now.”

“There are other ways. There are open schools, where you can give exams. And we can have a tutor for you.”

“Tutor? That would be too expensive.”

“Don’t worry about that.”

She looked down and played with her food as she spoke slowly, “I’d like to study. I like reading. Back in Uttarpara, I often picked up books and magazines when no one was around and read them.”

Mukundo was pleasantly surprised, “You did? What did you used to read?”

She told him the names of some novels by Tagore and Sarat Chandra and some Bengali magazines.

“That’s impressive.”

She blushed.

He took her to his library after dinner. “Those shelves all have Bengali books. You can read whatever you want.”

She stared wide-eyed at the library. “There are so many books here.”

He laughed, “You are at a professor’s house. That is the least you should expect.”

“Right,” she mumbled absent-mindedly still trying to get used to the idea of having so many books at one place.

“I hope you won’t get bored now?”

She smiled nervously, “No.”

“Great. I will leave you with the books then, until you feel sleepy. We will soon find good tutors for you and then you will have your hands full with studies.”

“Mukundo Babu,” she stopped him.

“Yes?”

“How will I ever pay you back for this?”

He looked thoughtful for a moment; then spoke in a deep, profound voice, “I did what I did with you because I believe that nobody, no human being should be robbed of his or her basic dignity. Even if one gets used to being trampled around, like you probably had, it doesn’t make it right. So, despite knowing that it would upset your life the way you had known it all these years, despite knowing that it may not be comfortable, and despite knowing that even if you disagreed you won’t be able to voice your disagreement, I took the risk and brought you away from there; because, to me, maintaining the dignity of individuals is society’s responsibility. So, I poked my nose in what shouldn’t have been my affair. If you think that I did the right thing, then you have to prove me right. Study well, become independent, take control of your life, your dreams, and most importantly, become a person who nobody can take for granted, who would not let anybody walk over her, ever.”

Piyali felt something inexplicable, something that made her entire being tremble. She couldn’t have given words to it. She had read Tagore’s play “The Dancing Girl’s Worship”. Was this how the dancing girl felt in Buddha’s presence? She would wonder for a long time to come.

—

“How are the studies going?” Mukundo asked. They usually caught up with each other during dinner.

“I am struggling with English.”

“Your English tutor told me that you know enough for your class 10^th exam.”

“But I want to be fluent.”

“What for? It is just another language. It’s not like you have to be fluent in English to prove yourself,” he wanted to make sure that she didn’t develop an inferiority complex. Given her background, mastering English would not be easy for her.

“I want to learn better because I want to read more in English.”

“Why? Are you already out of Bengali books?” he chuckled.  There was nothing wrong in her wanting to learn and read in English. But he was curious about her reasons; so he continued prodding.

“No. They are different.”

“They are. But how so?”

“They are… They talk about things that are different from what I know about, what I identify with.”

“Why would you want to read things you do not identify with?”

“Because… I sometimes identify so much with Sharat Chandra’s heroines that I feel depressed. I would like to believe that the world can be different.”

He sighed, “You are not like them now, I hope.”

“No. No,” she figured that she might have alarmed him, “Don’t get me wrong, Mukundo Babu. That’s not what I meant at all. I was thinking of what I was and what I would have been had you not landed in Uttarpara then…”

“Yeah. Don’t worry,” he smiled in assurance, “And I think it is really good that you are motivated to read English. Whether our nationalist sentiment is pleased or not, it is the international language and being fluent in it opens up several doors. I know someone who can help you.”

And that’s how she was introduced to Alka.

“My colleague at university,” Mukundo introduced her when he brought her home the next evening, “Professor of English, who also moonlights as communication trainer. You can’t have a better teacher.”

Piyali smiled nervously. She had overheard Mahendra’s and Mukundo’s conversations once in a while. Mahendra would not stop lamenting about how Mukundo’s and Alka’s relationship was not right. Piyali had to suppress pangs of jealousy. He was her savior; this marriage was just a means of saving her. She didn’t have any rights on him. It was presumptuous of her to feel jealous. But she hadn’t expected that he would bring her home.

Piyali folded her hands in greetings. Alka smiled kindly at her and that surprised her. Did Alka not feel jealous? Insecure? Or was Piyali so insignificant in Mukundo’s life that she didn’t see any reasons for jealousy?

Alka won her over with time. They did not talk about either of their relationships with Mukundo. But they did talk about everything else. It was an unusual friendship, but one that grew to be strong. She became not just her English, but also the lifestyle tutor. Piyali didn’t have many other opportunities to make friends. She was on speaking term with the neighbors, but her strange relationship with Mukundo was difficult to explain to people. So, she could never make any close friends.

—

To be continued