“Eloped?” Her eyes grew moist.

“I am so sorry, Smriti,” he touched her shoulder and she did not jerk him off, “I understand that all this must have come as a shock to you. But I am sure you want to meet your family, don’t you?”

“I… I don’t know. I must talk to Mou Auntie…”

“Mou? She was the one who had dragged you away when you were telling me who your mother was, wasn’t she? And she was the one who lied to you that your mother’s family does not live there. Can’t you see what is going on? I’d suggest you come with me right away.”

“You are a stranger. How can I trust you? I am not coming anywhere,” despite the emotional upheaval, she was careful. She was having her fair share of doubts.

“I understand your hesitation. And I am glad that you are not careless about your security. But you do want answers, right? See, there is this coffee shop in the market nearby. Hardly two kilometers from here. I am writing down the address for you. You can hail a taxi and come there. I will bring you father there.”

“What’s his name?”

“Vikram Jain.”

She took the address from him and nodded.

“Wait for me. It won’t take more than half an hour,” Srinivas said before parting.

—

“Smriti!” Vikram hugged her so warmly as soon as he saw her that Srinivas was impressed by his acting skills.

“Your father. Mr. Vikram Jain,” he formally introduced him and smiled.

Smriti was awkward and short of words. It was difficult for her to accept that all this was for real. “Do you have your wedding photographs,” she suddenly asked.

Vikram was puzzled, but reacted quickly. “Of course. Why?”

“Have you brought them?”

“Umm… no… But you will come home, right? We have been looking for you for so many years now. Your grandmother is dying to meet you. You can see the photographs there.”

“No. I want to see the photographs first.”

“All right. Let me call them at home.”

Smriti looked on blankly as he made the call. “I don’t care where they are stuffed Mummy… Yes, get them… Right away… If that’s what my daughter wants, that’s what she must have!” he added the last sentence for Smriti’s advantage, although the phone was already disconnected by then.

“It will take some time,” he smiled at her, “I am sorry. But you will understand that memories of your mother are hurtful.”

“Why?”

“Why? She is the reason you grew up away from your family. She deserted us and eloped with her lover…”

Something sounded extremely wrong with the accusations being made on her mother and Daddy. But Smriti didn’t know what an alternative story could be. So, she stayed silent. While they waited for the album, she received a call from Mou. She assured her that she was in the market, she knew her way around, and she would be back shortly.

When the albums arrived at length, she recognized her mother very well and tears started flowing down her cheeks.

“There, there. Don’t cry my princess. It’s all right. You have found your family back. Everything will be all right now. Come. Let’s meet you grandmother, cousins, aunts and uncles.”

Mou called again. Smriti was already at Vikram’s house by then.

“I’m with my father, Mou Auntie.”

“When did Prof. Sen come to Kolkata?”

“Not him. My real father.”

“Smriti,” Mou was alarmed, “What are you talking about? Who are you with?”

“Mr. Vikram Jain, my father.”

“Oh my God! How did you… Smriti, you must come back. Where are you? I will come and pick you up.”

“No Mou Auntie. I will stay here for now.”

“Smriti. Please…”

Smriti disconnected the call. Not surprisingly, immediately afterwards, she received a call from Siddhartha.

“Darling please. You must listen to me…”

“Is he or is he not my father, Daddy?”

“Go back to Mou Auntie. I will come there and we will talk.”

“Is he or is he not my father?”

Siddhartha’s sigh was audible. “Yes. Now…”

“Thank you, Prof. Sen. I have been deceived for seventeen years. Now let me find out the truth for myself,” she disconnected the call and switched off her phone.

Siddhartha broke into sobs. It was worse than his worst nightmares. Then he collected himself and stepped out to arrange for his journey to Kolkata praying furiously for his daughter’s safety meanwhile.

At Jains’ house, Vikram’s mother fussed over Smriti, making her feel uncomfortable with her overbearing hospitality. What made her particularly uneasy was how she was ordering around the women of the household as if they were indentured servants. There wasn’t a trace of respect or civility in her manners towards them. She didn’t get a chance to speak to anyone else in the family that day. After dinner, she was shown to her room by her grandmother. She also got her a nightie to change into and asked her to make do with it for the night. They would get her new clothes in the morning.

As Smriti lied down on the bed, her heart was in turmoil. She had expected a more positive resolution to the mystery of her parents. She had hoped that the story about her parents being her Daddy’s friends was true and some acceptable twist to it could explain the stories he had told her about Mamma. But this had taken a most unpleasant turn. Mamma had run away, while her husband was alive. To her lover? Daddy? She tried to be liberal. May be they were really in love and this marriage was not working for Mamma. But what could explain keeping the truth from her for all these years. Didn’t she deserve to know about her family, even if Mamma wanted to have nothing to do with them?

How uncomfortable it all was! But it was truth. And she had to accept it, even if it was bitter.

She didn’t sleep well that night. Her life had turned upside down. There was hardly a scope for peaceful sleep. Her room overlooked the garden of the house. It looked like a good refuge form the normal humbug of the big city. She got out of the bed at four in the morning and went to the garden. She walked around aimlessly for almost an hour, when an old woman suddenly came to her.  The way she had appeared out of the blue and her haunted looks scared Smriti. She recoiled from her.

“Bahu Rani… What are you doing here? Don’t you know they will kill your daughter? What did you come back for? Go away, go away….”

—

To be continued