“What are these?” Rupali asked in surprise as Paritosh handed her a small packet with a bunch of pills.
“You said you were unwell. I just went to a chemist…”
“Dr. Khanna. I just needed paracetamol. I have already taken it. If I sleep for couple of hours I will be fine.”
“There are some for cold and cough as well, if needed…”
“I just have slight fever and body pain. I will be fine. Trust me.”
“Are you sure I should leave Meenal here? I can try taking her with me…” Rupali had called him up that morning and requested him to drop Meenal at her place, instead of Rupali going to theirs. She was not feeling well.
“She is at home here. She won’t be any trouble. I will lock the house from inside. Even if I fall asleep for a bit, she would be fine.”
“Yeah. Okay then. If there is any problem, don’t hesitate in calling.”
“I won’t. Thanks, Dr. Khanna.”
“Take care. Bye.”
—
When Paritosh came back in the evening, the door to the house was unlocked. He pushed it and came in. He was greeted by a strange sight. Meenal was sitting in front of Rupali’s computer, apparently typing away. The computer was old, he noticed. It was probably the one she had bought while her parents were still alive. Rupali was standing behind Meenal, with her right hand on her chin, fingers covering her lips. Her eyes were moist and it seemed like she was trying hard to suppress a sob.
“What’s going on?” he asked and came forward to stand beside Rupali. What he saw on the screen virtually blew his mind off.
“She has typed all this?” he asked wide-eyed.
Rupali only nodded; she was too overwhelmed to speak.
Paritosh went forward and kneeled on the floor beside Meenal. She looked at him and stopped typing. He took the Mouse and scrolled up. First few pages were gibberish. Probably she was randomly pressing keys on the keyboard. Then she had started typing the alphabets in order. Finally the words; and then sentences she practiced for school and exams.
It was the last couple of pages that held real surprise.
“Her name is Rupali,” read one of the paragraphs, “She smiles. She laughs. She is happy. Meenu is happy. Meenu cannot talk. Rupali. Throat itches. Rupali looks like Mamma.”
“Papa does not laugh,” she had typed next, “Meenu loves Papa. Papa cries. Papa is not happy. Meenu loves Rupali. Rupali is happy.”
Paritosh looked at his daughter. She was sitting still; her face, as usual, not showing any emotions. But the screen in front of him told him what she could never express. As Rupali had thought, she understood. “No Meenu. Papa is happy. Papa is very happy with Meenu. Do you understand?”
She managed an awkward nod.
“And Papa loves Meenu.”
She nodded again.
Then Paritosh got up and went to Rupali. She could no longer hold herself back. She started sobbing. Paritosh tried to calm her down and did not realize when, in that process, took her in his arms. She sobbed for a while with her head resting on his chest.
“Hey. Why are you crying? It’s great, isn’t it? You were right. She understands. Everything.”
They weren’t aware of Soumitra standing at the door. He did not make any sound and after a while slipped out noiselessly.
“I’m sorry,” she got a hold of herself finally and stepped back, “I was so overwhelmed.”
“Of course,” he said softly, “How did it happen, though?”
“Accidentally. She was bored of all the toys that were here. I wasn’t feeling well enough to teach her anything. So, I tried to see if something on computer can keep her busy. She liked the keyboard; I think she recognized the letters. Then I left her to play with it. She did all this by herself. I had fallen asleep for a while. I got up, when some salesman came and knocked at the door. After sending him off, I noticed this. That’s when you came in.”
“You are happy, aren’t you?”
“I am. And you?”
“Very happy. I am very happy.”
“Papa,” Meenal’s voice drew their attention. They went to her. She had typed something again.
“Papa loves Meenu. Papa is happy.”
Paritosh smiled at her. “Yes. Papa loves Meenu. Papa is very happy.”
—
“I ran into Meher Didi today,” Soumitra told Rupali and Sugata while they ate dinner later in the evening. Rupali had found someone who agreed to do the night shift at the pharmacy, and she had taken off from there. She would have a good night’s sleep to recover.
“Oh! And?” Rupali asked curiously.
“She told me that Dr. Khanna is all praises for you.”
“Hmm…”
“She was quite surprised about it. Apparently it is quite difficult to please Dr. Khanna. And with Meenal, it was particularly tough.”
“I was lucky that way, Soumitra. She herself took to me.”
“You also love her Didi, don’t you?”
Rupali laughed nervously, “Is that a trick question? Are you going to ask me to choose between her and you?”
“No. No,” Soumitra hastened to clarify, “Nothing like that. I… I might behave like a jerk sometimes, Didi. But I never meant to create problems for you.”
“Hey! It’s all right. What’s up with you? Is something bothering you?”
“No Didi. Not at all. I am just trying to have a conversation. It’s not an investigation or something.”
Rupali relaxed and laughed slightly, “Okay Boss. As you say. So, what were you asking?”
“I was asking about Meenal. You love the kid, don’t you?”
“Yes Soumitra,” she replied somberly, “I love her. She is an unfortunate child. She added after a pause, “Even though Ma-Baba are not with us, we know that they loved us. They would never have abandoned us knowingly. Her mother, on the other hand, never accepted her. She committed suicide because of her. It is not a pretty situation.”
“Hmm… But Dr. Khanna is different, isn’t he?”
“Yeah. He is a very nice and caring man. He loves his daughter. He would do anything for her.”
“He cares a lot even for you, Didi.”
“Well. As I said, he is a nice man.”
“It’s not just about being civil. But caring… I mean that washing machine… Club drive or not… He did it for you.”
“Yes. He is very generous too.”
“I mean… I think he is in love with you, Didi.”
“Soumitra!” Sugata interrupted before Rupali could say anything, “You are again talking rubbish. Saying things without thinking. What is wrong with you? Why are you so intent on hurting her?”
“I am doing nothing of that sort,” Soumitra replied patiently, but firmly, “Didi. I am just saying what I felt. I am not being judgmental. I don’t even mean that something should come out of it. But what do you think about it? If he asks, would you marry him?”
Rupali’s initial shock and nervousness had subsided. She could carefully choose her words, “I am not going to marry anyone, Soumitra. My only concerns in life right now are your studies, and you careers.”
“But if he asks?”
“Don’t have absurd dreams. I am his employee – a house help, caretaker for his daughter, who he has taken pity on and who he is paying more than usual. He is a professor; I am not even a college graduate. He is from a rich, prestigious family. I won’t even be able to make ends meet, if he stops paying me. Do you see how absurd your proposition is?”
“And he is too old for her,” Sugata added.
“That is not the point, Sugata,” Rupali contradicted him; though immediately realized that she should have stayed silent. It could give away her real feelings to Soumitra, who was very perceptive, “But nevertheless. Let’s not try to read too much into the generosity of a rich man. Let’s eat what we are lucky enough to have on the table today.”
Soumitra sighed and shook his head. As Rupali had worried, her contradicting Sugata’s point had not escaped his notice. If she didn’t think anything about him, whey should she bother responding to that objection? And there were other things he had noticed too. All her objections were from Paritosh’ side. She never said that she didn’t like him, or that she would say no. She loved not only Meenal, but her father too. And she was too insecure about her shortcomings to accept it before anyone else.
—
To be continued