Pronab turned out to be an unexpectedly pleasant visitor to Piyali. He was managing his aunt pretty well and kept any trouble out of Piyali’s father’s way. He had easy manners with which he could strike a conversation with anyone – from innocent children to hypochondriac adults. Bored as Piyali was with her joblessness, and vexed with Mukundo, she welcomed his presence in her house wholeheartedly. Even her Pishima was tolerable with him around.

Mukundo had just come in for the evening tea, when Pronab and his aunt came back from neighborhood visits.

“Who all did you visit, Pishima?” Mukundo asked her.

“Oh many people! So much changes between the visits. So many new daughter-in-laws, so many new babies, and so many daughters shipped off to their in-laws!”

“I also met someone I know from Delhi,” Pronab interjected.

“Really? Who?”

“Pratibha. Pratibha Mishra. She finished post-graduation from our university and will join as an assistant professor now. From student to colleague…”

“Ah! I dare say she made a very good student,” Mukundo said.

“I think so.”

“Well… She is nice. Might be a good Delhi student, but I am sure she doesn’t sing as well as our Pihu,” said her aunt.

“If your Pihu took her music half as seriously as Pratibha did, she would definitely sing much better than her, but she doesn’t,” Mukundo was not going to stop making a case for Pratibha.

“Mukundo is joking, of course, Didi,” Mr. Banerjee also joined the conversation, “He knows Pihu sings very well. He himself practices with her so often.”

“You don’t need to make an excuse for Mukundo Babu, Baba,” Piyali said dryly, “He speaks the truth. And I don’t even pretend to be as good as our city-educated Pratibh Di.”

“City education can make her English better, Piyali. We are talking about music. Delhi only has disadvantages as far as learning music is concerned.” Mukundo was relentless.

“That’s not quite right, Mukundo Babu,” Pronab objected, “Some of the best-known names in the world of classical music reside in Delhi or Mumbai. The opportunities are so much better for them…”

“People who have to make money from music reside there, Pronab. Those who treat it as a labor of love – as their saadhana – they are to be found in every nook and corner of Bengal. You don’t need to go to Kolkata. I can find you tens of them in Haldia who would beat your city-bred musicians any day.”

“Leave it Pronab Babu. Mukundo Babu doesn’t have any high opinion of me. And I can live with that. I don’t need everybody’s approval.”

“But you do sing very well, Piyali.”

“I’m sure that approval will be more than enough for our Queen of Haldia,” Mukundo was being almost cruel. Piyali couldn’t figure out why. He had taken a dislike to Pronab for some reason. But why was he projecting that on her too? If he had to marry Pratibha, he could do so… Did he really need to make her feel so inadequate?

“Well… I think we can give Mukundo liberty to see everything about Pratibha is the best possible light,” she was surprised to hear her Pishima. Didn’t this mean that she had heard the rumors too?

Piyali waited with bated breath to see how the conversation would unfold now.

“What do you mean?” Mukundo asked cautiously and it infuriated Piyali. She could not be patient any longer. Must he go on pretending?

“The entire world knows what she means, Mukundo Babu,” she replied instead of her Pishima.

“Arr… I most definitely don’t,” Pronab looked flabbergasted.

“Nor do I,” Mukundo said and looked straight into Piyali’s eyes.

“I can’t believe you are doing this to us, Mukundo Babu. If you want to marry Pratibha Di, you know we would all be happy for you. You don’t need to hide it, or justify it, or…”

“What?” Mukundo and Pronab cried out together.

“Damn these rumor-mongers,” Mukundo forgot the company he was in and swore openly, “I had thought I had quelled them. Piyali. I am not marrying Pratibha. I can’t believe you would think I was so sneaky.”

Mortification suddenly claimed her entire being. What had come upon her? Why did she have to speak? Why could she not hold her tongue? She averted her eyes and stared blankly at the floor.

“Ah well! It’s all out in open now,” Pishima tried to make light of the situation, but nobody smiled or laughed.

“What I am doing about Pratibha,” Mukundo continued to explain, “Is help Seema get her married. After Seema’s father’s death, you all know, that there are no men in the family who can do all the running around. There is a proposal from Kolkata, which they like very much. And it is to facilitate that that I am going to their house and to Kolkata so often.”

“Anyway,” he stood up and continued without letting silence prevail for long, “I am going to Kolkata tomorrow morning too. Piyali. Do you have anything for Saina?”

She shook her head, but immediately changed her mind. “Umm… yes. I will bring it to you outside.”

“Good.”

—

“I… I am sorry… Mukundo Babu. I don’t know what had come upon me…” Piyali rushed to apologize once they were outside. She had nothing for Saina.

“I will not lie, Piyali. I am really disappointed in you. For multiple reasons. But… I hope… I hope this is not you. Under whatever influence you have become this… I hope you get over it.”

She was unable to meet his eyes, and words refused to leave her throat.

“I might be gone for a while. I have some work in Mumbai. I might leave from Kolkata itself.”

She stood rooted to her place, her eyes glued to the floor. He ran his hand over her head once, and left abruptly.

When she went back to the house, oblivious to the storm that had just raged her life, her father was getting ready for his evening walk.

“Has Mukundo left?” he asked casually.

“Yes Baba,” she replied and listlessly walked to the backyard.

“Phew! That became intense,” she was startled by Pronab. She smiled weakly at him as he sat down beside her on the stairs. “Piyali. I think… I can understand… some of the emotional upheaval…” He began and then grew silent. When she neither discouraged nor encouraged him, he spoke again, “I wonder if I should… ask you… for help… in resolving my own dilemma…” His voice was so emotion-laden that Piyali feared he was going to propose to her or something. That wasn’t something she could deal with at the moment. So, she was thankful that Binoy barged in just then. “Pihu Baby. There is a courier for you.”

“Courier?” she was surprised.

“Courier? Must be something important. I won’t disturb you, then,” Pronab said and retreated. She did not stop him, grateful to be left alone.

The courier was from Saina.

—

To be continued