One thing had led to another and some of Antara’s paintings had found a place in one of the city’s most prestigious galleries. One of the paintings there was a portrait she had created of Mrinal. She didn’t usually do portraits. But she had wanted to make one of him.

“You are making me famous,” he had joked when that painting was accepted in the gallery.

“It is the other way round,” she had protested, “It is because I painted you that I might become famous.”

“Amen to that!”

Some of her paintings started selling too. And a few were licensed for use in designs.

And then a request came from one the prominent industrialists of the city. He had seen her portrait of Mrinal and wanted her to do a portrait of his wife as a birthday gift from him. She wasn’t sure initially. She hadn’t practiced portraits extensively, nor was she trained. But the price he had named was beyond anything she had hoped to make anytime soon. After initial hesitation she agreed. When she asked for Mrinal’s advice, he told her to decide for herself. He trusted that she would do all right either way.

She wasn’t sure if it was the elite society’s appreciation of art, or just the copycat tendencies, but after that portrait, she started getting requests for many more.

—

“You haven’t painted anything new in a while,” Mrinal said. He had noticed that all his time was going in doing portraits and was not happy about it. But he didn’t say anything to her directly. If she enjoyed it, he wouldn’t interfere.

“Not getting any time at all. Haven’t even finished the book I had you issue from the library. You have to return it, right?”

“I can re-issue it when you have time. Are you enjoying all these portrait assignments?”

She sighed. “No. Doing your portrait was different. These things are… mechanical, calculated. I am finding myself touching up the paintings to make them look good in it. It is an ego-boosting exercise for rich, jobless women.”

“Don’t do it, then, Antara.”

“They pay so well.”

“But… Hadn’t you always wanted a life where your expressions were not bounded by other people’s ego?”

She looked startled. “When… did… I… say that?”

Mrinal himself jolted back. He had made the mistake of his life. She had never said that… It was in her diary. Should he lie? Should he claim that she had indeed said that sometime or the other and try to get away with it? Or should he treat this as the opportunity, the right time? To confess his misdemeanor of stealing and reading her diary?

He took a deep breath, preparing himself for the worst, leaned away from her, and said, “Please try not to get mad…” He took out the diary from his pocket. He still kept it with him all the time; only skillfully slipping it under his pillow or into his side of the drawer at night.

Antara was so shocked; she couldn’t react at all for a while.

“Antara… I know how this looks… But please…”

She gave him a perplexed and pained look; then ran off to their bedroom.

“Antara… Please, talk to me…”

The doorbell rang just then distracting him and he stopped for a moment. She had locked herself in the room by then. Mrinal stood there motionless and stupefied. The doorbell rang again. He listlessly walked to the door and opened it.

“Raksha?” she was the last person he would have liked to see at that moment, “What are you doing here?”

“Wow!” she smiled nervously, “That was… I think I am disturbing you… I should have called…”

He realized immediately that he had been extremely rude. “I… I’m sorry. Please come in,” he tried to talk as calmly as possible. What was Antara thinking? What would she do now? Even as he led Raksha inside, his thoughts were so consumed by his wife that he didn’t notice a barely two-year old girl tumbling along in her tow, until they sat down on the sofa. Even then he didn’t think much of the child.

“Antara is not around?” Raksha asked cautiously.

“No… Umm… Yes… I mean she is in the bedroom. She isn’t feeling well.”

“Oh! Nothing serious, I hope.”

“No. Nothing… serious… I think… I will see if she is awake…” he wanted some alibi, any alibi to go check on her.

“No. No Mrinal. Let her take rest. Actually we can spare her. I came here because I had something really important to talk to you about.”

Mrinal stared at her. It had been two years. Despite the ups and downs they had parted on good terms. But they hadn’t kept in touch. He hadn’t seen her after that until that chance meeting in Mauritius. What important could she have to talk to him about?

“Mrinal… I… I am not well… Actually I am dying…”

“What? What did you say?” That was shocking enough to distract him from Antara at least for the time being.

“Lung cancer… All that smoking… I won’t survive it…”

“Don’t say that. I’m sure there is something…”

“I’m not worried about myself, Mrinal… Not any longer… Impending death makes you humble… It is Mahi that I am worried about…”

“Mahi?”

Raksha picked up the girl who had fallen silent in strange surroundings and put her on her lap. “Mahi. My daughter.”

“Oh! I… I didn’t know you were… We have been out of touch all this while… Where is her father?”

She took a deep breath and a long pause before speaking. “You are her father.”

Mrinal literally jumped in shock. “That is a bad joke, Raksha,” he grew angry.

Raksha seated Mahi on the sofa and stood up herself. “Your shock and disbelief are reasonable, Mrinal. But…”

“Reasonable? What is reasonable about any of this? If what you are saying is right, why didn’t I know all this time? You can’t just come up with some…”

“I realized I was pregnant after we had broken up. You were always so careful. It was my fault, when I had said it was safe… So, I didn’t want to burden you. And I couldn’t get myself to abort… But life… luck isn’t helping me. If I am gone… my family doesn’t even want to acknowledge her presence. I am being selfish by bringing you into this now… But where do I take her? She is too young…”

Mrinal stared at the child. Perplexed and Pained. Was that how Antara felt when she saw the diary with him? And how will she feel when she sees the child? His child? But he didn’t feel anything about the girl. No natural fatherly emotion claimed him. He was just confounded, annoyed and angry.

“Humiliating as it is to me, Mrinal, you can go ahead with a DNA test…”

“That isn’t needed…” Antara’s voice surprised them both.

“Antara…” Mrinal tried to say something, but words refused to come out of his throat.

“Look at her eyes. And nose,” Antara continued in a flat voice, “No DNA test is needed.”

Mrinal hadn’t thought of trying to match the physical features. He hadn’t thought of anything at all. The idea just wasn’t sinking in. But Antara had just finalized it. There would be no running away now. But… where was he to go? What was he to do?

—

To be continued