His phone rang as soon as he pressed the doorbell. By the time he saw that the call was form Rupali, she was at the door, opening it for him. They smiled nervously on realizing that they had the same agenda.

“My… meetings got cancelled…” he told another obvious lie to explain the earlier one. She accepted it gracefully. “Do you want to go out for a while? Get some fresh air. And probably some coffee?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

—

“How are you doing, Rupali?” Paritosh asked after their coffee had arrived.

“I am fine,” Rupali said as a matter of habit. But then she looked into his eyes and her own filled with tears, “I am not fine. I am scared. I’m very scared. I don’t know what is going to happen. I’m so used to her. I can’t take a single decision of my life on my own. I came back from the US only so that she would be there to help me. And now… I am at a loss. I don’t know what to do or say…”

She broke down and buried her head in her hands on the table. Thankfully he had picked a secluded corner in the coffee shop and it was relatively empty at that point of time; so there weren’t any prying eyes around. He pulled his chair closer and patted her head.

“Rupali. Please don’t cry like this. Look at me, please. Please Rupali.” His pleadings worked and she looked up, though still teary eyed. He held and pressed her hands, as he spoke further, “Do you trust me? Forget about all the awkwardness that had been there between us recently and tell me honestly. Do you trust me?”

Rupali nodded.

“Then you must listen very carefully to what I say. Okay?”

She nodded again, though hesitantly.

“Don’t worry about yourself. I have seen you work. You can be responsible and mature. You already are. Your mother has been your support all your life and I can’t deny that life without her would be difficult to cope with. But you will be able to manage it. And I am there with you. I have promised this to your mother and I promise to you as well. It doesn’t matter what happens, I will always be there with you. I can’t make up for your mother’s loss, when it inevitably comes. But if you need any help, any support, I will try my best to steer you in the right direction. You don’t have to worry about yourself.”

“Thank you.”

“And now something else. Your mother is more worried about you than you are.”

“She has talked to you already about all this?”

“Yes. She has. She knows how you feel and she is really worried. In her condition, this stress will not do her any good. You must think of her, do you understand?”

“Yes. I was being too selfish.”

“Don’t worry about that. Parents are the only people with whom we can be absolutely selfish. But there comes a time when they need us more than we need them. That time has come for you now. I am sorry that it came too early for you. But you must support her. You must become strong for her sake and convince her that you will be fine even after her. That is the only way to ensure that she lives the rest of her life happily. You would do that, won’t you Rupali?”

“You think about everyone. Just like Mom. And I get stuck only on my own problems.”

“Don’t be so harsh on yourself. You aren’t having it easy. That you are holding up is commendable.”

—

“Love is a strange thing, Paritosh,” Mouli spoke suddenly, while Paritosh was visiting her one evening. Rupali was not there. She had gone out for grocery shopping.

“Sorry?” he was taken aback by such a subject being introduced so abruptly.

“I said love is a strange thing. It makes you push boundaries and do crazy things like no other feeling or ambition can.”

“Why are you suddenly philosophizing about love?” Paritosh asked jokingly, but the laughter accompanying it was nervous.

“I don’t know. May be because today I am missing Purushottam too much,” Mouli said and then thinking that Paritosh may not know him by name, added an explanation, “Rupali’s father.”

“I know. I am sorry. Is it something special today?”

“I was suddenly reminded that this was the day when I had joined his company all those years back, as his interpreter.”

“Interpreter? Which language?”

“Sign language.”

“Sign language?”

“He couldn’t speak.”

“Oh!”

“I had just finished my graduation. He had been inducted into his family business few months back. But to communicate with staff and others, he needed someone to interpret his sign language to them. I had learned sign language out of sheer curiosity.  One of my neighbors used to teach it. So, I had taken free classes from him.”

“That was nice.”

“I was idling around after my graduation, when I noticed this ad in a newspaper. I walked in for an interview. He himself took the interview. I fumbled with some hardcore business vocabulary. He laughed seeing me go red with embarrassment, but gave me the job anyway. On my first day in the office, he gave me a list of business words to remember. It ran into four pages. He was that organized!”

“And then?” Paritosh was drawn into the story by then.

“And then we just clicked. I became very good at interpreting what he said in the sign language. Three months later, he was to speak at the Annual General Meeting of the company. He hadn’t pre-written his speech. So, I also had to interpret it on the go. But I could do it almost instantly. It was as if I knew what he was going to say. Like there was a connection.”

“There, after all, was a connection, wasn’t there?” Paritosh smiled.

“Yes.”

“So much that you never thought of marrying again?”

“I couldn’t. I had a fulfilling married life for eleven years and four years of wonderful friendship and love before that. And then I had Rupali. I couldn’t have left those years behind me.”

Paritosh nodded, “She is lucky to have you as her mother. You make a rather cool Mom.” He laughed slightly as he said “cool Mom” and Mouli joined him.

“Unlike me, though, she isn’t lucky in love,” Mouli said startling Paritosh once again. He averted his eyes. He would have wanted to change the topic, but did not know how to do that without appearing defensive for himself, or insulting to her.

“May be sometimes love is not meant to be. It is misdirected, even inappropriate.” he mumbled.

“Love is never misdirected. Society, and our social conditioning, is misdirected. It makes us think of love in the same terms as buying a refrigerator or something. You look at the features and the price and make trade-offs. But love doesn’t happen with features, Paritosh. It doesn’t look at the price. It just happens. My parents thought I wouldn’t survive a marriage with a–” she had difficulty using the word, but she finally did, “dumb man even for a year. They thought I was marrying for money. But see – I could not get out of that marriage even after he was dead. Things that the society makes you think matter, don’t matter. Money, status, age, community, religion, even disability – none of it matters. When two people connect, and make each other happy, everything else pales in comparison, becomes unimportant. Even if there are other barriers, love can conquer it all.”

Mouli suddenly felt tired and leaned back on her bed. “Think about it, Paritosh. Think about your life,” she mumbled and closed her eyes.

Paritosh stared at her. What was she trying to tell him? Rupali came back just then. Seeing Paritosh’ somber expressions and her mother lying down on the bed, she panicked. “What happened? Mom? Are you okay?”

“She is fine, Rupali. Just a little tired. Let her sleep. I need to leave now.”

“I was going to make some coffee.”

“Some other time. Right now I must leave,” Paritosh said and walked out of the room. He had some soul searching to do, before he faced Rupali again. Rupali was left confused, but her attention soon shifted to her sleeping mother. She sat beside her on the bed and gently caressed her forehead.

—

To be continued