“Vikram is a fine boy, my child,” her father said, “You also know him.” She did know him although they weren’t close friends. And yes – as far as she knew, he was a fine boy.  She was also aware that despite all these years, the tides of the scandals had not abated. People still murmured about it, and marital relationships for the family would have been difficult. “The reason I am telling you all this today, my child, is that if you do not want this marriage, I will make sure before I die that nobody persuades you. But if you are fine with it… I will die peacefully. You would have kept the promise of your father and grandfather. And you won’t be unhappy. Once you go there, other good families would also marry their their daughters in the family. You will have good company and, of course, no lack of money or comfort. But I don’t want you to be under pressure… We’ll find some way out.”

Karishma was well aware of her boundaries. She had never expected to be allowed “love-marriage” or a marriage outside the community. What she had hoped was that she would be allowed to choose form those the family considered eligible. That was something everyone allowed these days. Now, for the sake of an ancient promise, even that little freedom was to be taken away from her. It was particularly painful now, after that intimate – not physically, but emotionally – night with Siddhartha. But she tried to think rationally. That would be an impossible dream. One, she wasn’t aware of what he felt. Second, choosing him would still mean rebelling against her family and causing a lot of misery to them. She wasn’t going to do that. Then what harm was there is letting her father die peacefully and agree to marry Vikram Jain? He would be as good as any other match the family would make for her.

“Papa,” she smiled, “Don’t worry on my account, Papa. If you think this is right for me, that’s what I will do. I will marry him.”

—

“Ms. Bhattacharya,” Siddhartha called Mou after the class, “Can you come to my office for a minute?”

She followed him knowing full well what he wanted to know about.

“Her father passed away. The day before,” she said even before he asked anything.

“Oh!”

“She was really close to him, Prof. Sen. Closer than anyone else in the world. She would be devastated.”

He nodded, “Thanks for updating me. When will she be back?”

“Not before another two weeks. Her project…”

“That’s fine.”

—

He saw her in the class first when she came back. Where had the luster and glow of her face gone? In barely two weeks, how could someone lose so much of weight and develop those dark circles. Mou was right. Her father’s death has hit her really hard. She was doodling on her notebook through most of the class, looking neither at him, nor at the blackboard, nor at any of her friends. Their eyes met just once.  Siddhartha felt that the tears that had dried out in her eyes would start flowing from his. There was so much pain in them.

She came to his office after the class, although he hadn’t asked her to. The silent invitation was understood.

“How are you?” he asked feigning calm.

She smiled weakly in reply.

“Come here,” he beckoned her to him and embraced her. She could not control herself and broke into sobs.

“It’s all right. Calm down. There is nothing to worry…” he soothed her with his encouraging words.

“I have another class now,” she said after she had calmed down.

“Come in the evening. We will go out of the campus and we will talk. All right?”

She nodded and left.

—

He listened to her for hours. She recounted every little incident from her involving her father. How he took her to eat ice cream out of turn. How he would make sure that her favorite dress was bought for her. How he helped her in studies. She broke into tears several times and he patiently comforted her.

“Don’t worry, Karishma. Don’t feel that you are alone. You have friends. I am there.”

A look of guilt washed over her face as soon as he uttered those words. She had been deceptive. There was something she should have told him first. Yes – it was necessary to tell that to him. Because what she had felt that night, what she had been feeling, but not acknowledging, from even before that, it was mutual. If it weren’t, what were they doing there? Why was he being her confidante in the moment of her emotional weakness?

He noticed her expression. “What happened?”

“There is something else…”

“Go ahead.”

She told him about the promise she made to her father on his deathbed and the story behind it. He was stunned by the time she finished speaking. What kind of a promise it was? It was as good as selling their daughter. With a “conditions apply” tag. But… And yet – she had made her decision. How should he react? It didn’t matter how he felt about it What mattered was what would make her feel comfortable. What did she value more? Her “feminist” choices as she called them? Or the emotional promise made to her father in his last moments?

She spoke before he could decide on his reaction. “You think I am a hypocrite, don’t you? Talking about feminism and rights and making such a decision…”

“Karishma. I am too old, and have seen too much of life, to expect it to be ideal.  The only question I would ask is if you are okay with your decision. Did you want to marry someone else? Or by your own choice…”

“It shouldn’t matter if I wanted to marry someone. Because there is no indication that he wants the same.”

“How would you know?”

“I would know if he would tell me.”

“Will that change you decision?”

She shook her head while her eyes moistened.

“Then what is the point, Karishma? Let everyone be at peace.”

“I would like to know… If I had a chance… At loving… At being loved?”

“You had, you still have, the chance of getting the world at your feet, if you reached out. What do you really want to do, Karishma?”

“There is nothing for me to decide now, Prof. Sen. I have made my choice. I will marry like Anna. Not for love. But for comfort; and for the sake of society.”

“But if your future is going to be like Anna’s, it’s better that you back out now.”

“No. My future will not be like hers. I have more control over my feelings and passions.”

“So be it, Karishma. And unlike Anna, your qualities are not just superficial, but in your heart. I can’t imagine a man who wouldn’t come to appreciate them. You will find happiness.”

She smiled trying to feel hopeful.

“Is the wedding date decided?” he asked.

“Won’t be until next year. After Papa’s death, they will wait for at least one year.”

“You would have finished your degree by then.”

She nodded. Then said resolutely. “And for Papa’s sake, I have to do well, Prof. Sen. I have missed so much in this semester. I have to make up…”

“Don’t worry,” he smiled at her, “I have just learned from someone how her father helped her catch up with studies when she had fallen ill with jaundice. I think I can use a lesson or two from there.”

She gave a disarmed smile. She had just told him that story. He would help her do well.

—

To be continued