Her face flushed, but she didn’t reply.

“This is agonizing, Piyali. Why are you silent?”

“I am so uncertain about everything right now, Mukundo Babu… Talking to you has made me feel much, much better. But… I am confused about… well… about everything… About even living…”

“I understand,” he interrupted her agitated rambling, “And I am sorry, it became so overwhelming for you today. Things I did today…” He paused and thought of how he had laid her on the bed and kissed her. “Or what I said…” He paused again thinking how he had tried to persuade her to accept him. “I hadn’t planned any of them. They just happened. And I won’t talk more. There is no pressure on you. There never was. There never will be. You understand that, right?” he sounded desperate by now and she relieved him of his misery by nodding.

“But you have to do one thing for me, Piyali.”

“What is it?”

“See a counsellor. Talk things out. Get well, Piyali. Else I will never be able to forgive myself for failing you so miserably, for looking the other way, when I should have helped you make right decision.”

“I will do whatever you want. Don’t blame yourself, please…”

“That’s like the brave princess I know,” he smiled and stroked her hair affectionately, “Who lives life on her own terms.”

—

Mukundo was grading some assignments, while keeping Piyali company. He was aware that she was not quite into the book she was reading and was looking up at him time and again. He ended up asking finally. “What is it?”

“Is your grading urgent?”

“No,” he immediately put aside the notebook he was reading and looked at her, “It can wait. What is it?”

“I wanted to… talk to you about… about my counselling.”

She had said that she wanted it, but she looked so nervous that Mukundo felt uncertain. “Are you sure?” he had to ask.

“Yes. Actually, my counsellor wanted me to have a ‘talk’ with you…” she smiled nervously.

“Go on,” he leaned forward and was even more attentive now.

“She wanted me to try and find out… why… when you are so nice to me and when I feel comfortable sharing everything with you… why am I still intimidated by you?”

“You are intimidated by me?” he asked calmly, without looking offended or surprised.

“That… that was the conclusion… as she probed and I talked.. Over the sessions… Don’t be angry…”

He smiled weakly, “That shows that you are indeed intimidated by me. Else, why would you think I would be angry? I sent you to counselling. Precisely for this. So that we could clear your head up.”

“But it isn’t cleared up yet.”

“So, why are you intimidated by me?”

“But I am not… It’s not like I am scared in your presence or anything…”

“Then, why didn’t you talk to me when things were going so wrong in your life?”

“That… I was…” she couldn’t finish and grew thoughtful. He let the silence prevail until she spoke again. “I was afraid of what you would think of me. How I would disappoint you. You had put your trust in me…”

“You were afraid of being proven wrong before me?”

“I… guess… so…”

He frowned and rubbed his temples. She nervously tugged at and twitched the bedsheet. She spoke again after a few moments of silence. “It wasn’t always so, Mukundo Babu.” He looked up questioningly. She repeated and continued, “It wasn’t always so. I was often wrong before you, and you corrected me. It had felt quite natural that I should need your help and I might be wrong. It had never bothered me. Not until…”

He didn’t ask her to go on. He understood. It wouldn’t have bothered her if she hadn’t been aware that he considered her a potential life-partner, an equal.

“But you didn’t want me, Piyali. Why should it have bothered you any more than earlier?” he asked.

She downcast her eyes without replying. Then she responded with a question of her own. “Why did you want me, Mukundo Babu? Why would you still want me?” He saw her eyes automatically turning to her still non-functional left hand. Physiotherapy hadn’t been particularly effective.

“If I answered, will it help you feel better?”

“I think so,” she was still not meeting his eyes.

“Let’s go to my home and talk.”

“Why?”

“Just come…”

—

Piyali’s heart beat hard with anxiety and anticipation as he led her to the forbidden chamber.  She had never been there. Nobody had been, as far as she knew. What Shikha had called his ‘little’ chamber, was, in fact, a large room. Piyali stood stupefied for several minutes.

“When did you do all this?” she asked finally.

“I have been doing this all my life,” he said and then added with a soft laughter, “Or all your life, to be more precise.” The walls were adorned with her portraits. All painted by him, as was obvious to her from the style.

“You have left me speechless, Mukundo Babu,” her voice quivered, “I don’t know what to say…”

“That’s okay,” he had grown serious, “It is my turn to talk and explain and hopefully do so without overwhelming you… But if I do surprise or discomfort you, you just have to tell me to stop… Okay?”

She nodded.

He took her hands and led her to a smaller painting, “You probably do not recognize this. You haven’t seen yourself like this. I have.” He was only being rhetorical. The painting showed her on a hospital bed, unconscious. She needn’t have seen herself like that to know what time he was talking about. He knew that too. He continued without explaining anything about the painting, “When you weren’t yet conscious, doctors feared much worse than just a paralysis of hand.  And for the first time in my adult life, I had prayed. I had prayed to Ma Durga that She should let you live even if every single muscle of your body was paralyzed. I had told Her that I would make up for everything your body will not do  and will serve you all my life, but She should let you live. I had prayed for what would have been very cruel to you, Piyali. But you have known what being in love is like. So, I think you will understand my desperation. ”

She downcast her eyes, although he wasn’t looking at her. His eyes were fixed on the painting. He, as usual, credited her for what she was not. She did not know what being in love was like. Not like him, anyway. What she had known was a heady rush of stupidity.  But standing there, in that room, beside him, she might finally have begun to understand what love was really like. Or getting her first lesson in it, at least.

“You asked me why I wanted you. I am also human, Piyali. I have my weaknesses. I might have acted on them at times. But truth is that I don’t want you. If you don’t want me, I don’t want you. I only love you. And I couldn’t stop loving you or start hating you, just because you rejected me as a lover. Because my love is not for one thing. I love you in more ways than one. Yes, of course, I love this beautiful girl in your, Piyali. You have these expressive eyes, full of curiosity, wondrous, child-like. They haven’t lost their innocence even after they have seen some of the worst the life has to offer. You may not remain beautiful forever. An accident may happen… But I l will still love you because I also love the familiarity I have with you. I know every expression of your face; I know the meaning of every move of yours… You springy gait, your lazy ambling, your stooping, listless walk… I know them all. I can recognize every single stroke of yours in your paintings… I can recognize your singing even if your voice is at its faintest… And I love knowing it all! But all this might also change. Or I might lose the ability to see. But will I stop loving you? No, Piyali. Because I love talking Philosophy with you too. You say you don’t talk profoundly. But you talk simply, Piyali, and still make sense. Which fool wouldn’t love that? But let’s say you are not profound enough. You had said you like frivolous things. I also love flattering you. And I love you in a nice dress and when I see one, I want to buy it for you.  And I love trekking and camping, although you didn’t know it. But if you and I stop enjoying all this, then what? Even then I can’t stop loving you, Piyali. Because one thing won’t change, I am sure of that. You will still continue to understand me. Like you have always understood me. Like you understand me now, whether I am being profound or silly, whether I almost stalk you, worried about your safety from weeds, or whether I am scared of being jealous and doing wrong by you! Even if not a single muscle of your body had worked, Piyali, I knew that you would have understood me, and you would have anchored my life. Always!”

—

To be continued