He extended his stay for three weeks. He would stay with his daughter and try to figure out what the best course of action would be. He had a lot of time in hand. He visited Banerjee Babu several times and also ended up meeting Piyali very often. Sometimes he ran into her outside the house and chatted with her for a while before going in. At other times, she sat with him and her grand-father and listened to their conversations. Once he found her alone on the verandah where his grand-father often sat.

“Dadu has gone to a friend’s place. He should be back any moment,” for unknown reasons she blushed, “Please do sit down, Mukundo Babu.”

“Yeah. How are you?”

“I am fine,” she replied. But Mukundo was not satisfied. He had also grown comfortable talking to her over time.

“You know it’s difficult to believe that you are fine, when you are not being mischievous. Got any chewing-gums around?”

“So, I am a constant mischief-maker, is it?” She only grew sadder, instead of laughing at his joke.

“Hey. Come on, now. What is it?”

“Sorry… It’s nothing, really. I am just missing my Baba. It’s his birthday.”

“Oh! I am sorry. You must have been really young, weren’t you?”

“Yes. But I remember him very well.”

“Of course. But hey! He wouldn’t like his mischief-maker to be sad, would he?” he leaned towards her and smiled encouragingly.

“Who knows what he would want? He is not around any longer.”

“I am a father too. I might know…”

“Yes. Pishima has told me a lot about your daughter. You won’t send her to boarding, would you?”

He straightened up and his face lost all its color.

“I’m sorry. I…”

“I think Banerjee Babu is going to be late. I should get going.”

Piyali sat transfixed to her chair as he strode out with a stiff gait.

—

“Mukundo Babu!” he was surprised to hear the voice as he made to leave the park after his morning jog.

“Piyali. What are you doing here?”

“Chunni. Come here…” she called a little girl to her side before answering him.

“Are you carrying your wallet?”

“Why?”

“Chunni wanted to eat jhal-mudhi. But I have spent all my pocket-money.”

“I might have some cash in my pocket, but jhal-mudhi? This early in the morning?”

“The vendor there has the best jhal-mudhi in the world. But he is in this area only in the mornings. Dada – aekhane aasho,” she called the vendor before waiting for Mukundo to confirm that he indeed had cash. “Three jhal-mudhis.”

“Without chilies,” the child demanded.

“Silly. What is jhal-mudhi without chilies. But okay. One without chilies, Dada.”

“I don’t want jhal-mudhi now,” Mukundo declared.

“But you can’t have it at any other time. You take it home and eat later. Here. Please pay him, Mukundo Babu. I will see you later.”

Mukundo managed to gather enough change from his pockets to pay the vendor. He looked at Piyali’s receding figure and could not help smiling. That was her way of making up?

—

“I brought your sister up. I can bring your daughter up, Mukundo. Until you gain your senses back…” his Maashima was against sending Sumedha to the boarding school.

“And you did a great job with Mrinmoyi, Maashima. But for how long will you keep taking responsibilities for us? It’s not your fault that this family is broken.”

He no longer got that queasy feeling around his daughter that he did when she was a baby. This child seemed to have no association with the sickly, pre-term baby he had held after his wife’s death. He had shirked his responsibilities in past, but that was no reason he should do a better job now. But he could not do it alone. He knew what he really, really needed to pull his family together. He needed a partner. By himself, he felt too lost. He was unable to pick up the thread after missing out on all these years. He needed to marry, marry someone who would give him love and support, which he could then pass on to his daughter. Nothing, as such, came in his way. Maashima had suggested it very often. “You are still young, and you have a long life ahead of you. You can live like a nomad,” she would say. Every well-wisher gave the same advice in almost the same words. But he was scared of doing it again.  After all he had never figured out what went wrong in his relationship with Aporna? How would he avoid it happening again? Boarding school, he was convinced, would be better for the child than a family plagued by cold-war.

—

Banerjee Babu was not in Kolkata. He had no alibi for visiting his home. But Maitrayee had just visited them. She told him that Piyali was unwell, down with fever. He was worried. For a while he distracted himself by playing with his daughter. But then her maid took her away to feed her and his restlessness returned.

—

Piyali was surprised to see him at her bedroom door. “Mukundo Babu! Dadu has gone to Haldia for some…”

“I know… I came to see you… I mean Boudi had come. She told me you were ill and might need help.” Maitrayee hadn’t said anything like that.

Piyali blushed. He noticed, but pretended not to.

“Please do sit down, Mukundo Babu… No. Not so close… You might also get infected.”

“I’d be fine. Do you need anything?”

“No. Thanks for asking. Did you not see Ma when you came? She might still be taking her afternoon nap. I would ask her to get tea for you…”

“Piyali! I haven’t come here for tea. I came for…”

A tense silence hung in the air for a few moments. Then Mukundo broke it. “Have you seen a doctor?”

“Yes. Our neighbor is a doctor. He had dropped down. Said there is nothing to worry. Just to take paracetamol if needed, and rest.”

“Good it is not serious. I should get going now. You call me, if you need anything at all.”

She nodded.

He hesitated for a moment, but finally felt her forehead for temperature before leaving.

—

To be continued