“I thought I was dreaming,” he said when she came back to him after putting Sumedha to sleep.

She stood silent with downcast eyes.

“You teach here?”

She nodded.

“Since when?”

She looked away and he understood.

“All these years?”

“Yes,” she finally spoke.

“I came here every year.”

“I know.”

“I could never forget you, Piyali. Not even for a minute.”

“That’s why you started drinking?”

“You came here for my daughter?”

She fell silent again.

“Piyali! If only it could again be like what we had dreamed of…”

“Can’t you forgive me?” her voice quivered.

“Forgive you? Piyali. There is nothing to forgive. I have a lot to answer for. And I am dying…”

“No!” she jumped forward and pressed his hand. “Nothing is happening to you. You just have to stop drinking.”

“My life is a mess, Piyali. I am a failure. Still, right now, I am very happy. And so, even willing to believe you – a tiny bit.”

“Believe me, then. Believe me wholeheartedly. Give me one more chance.”

—

They hadn’t talked much for last two days except of the practical matters – his recovery and medicines, Sumedha’s stay arrangements at her house because the hostels were closed and the like. She cooked for him, because outside food wouldn’t have done in his condition.

They were both worried about Sumedha though. She had been acting strange. She wouldn’t talk unless asked a question, would eat only when asked to, and keep herself locked in her room at Piyali’s house most of the time. She came to see Mukundo only when Piyali dragged her. “What’s the matter, sweetie? Why don’t you talk to me?” she asked repeatedly. “Nothing Miss. I am fine,” she would dismiss her each time.

Piyali was dusting Mukundo’s room in the guesthouse that afternoon, when Mrinmoyee called him. “She is reaching here tomorrow evening. Can you check if the guesthouse can give us another room?” he told her. Piyali’s breath caught in her throat. He had been generous with her. He hadn’t shamed her, because he was… well he was Mukundo Babu! But how would she face his sister? Or anybody else in his family and hers for that matter?

He appeared unaware of her dilemma though. “Something wrong?”

“No. Nothing,” she decided not to bother him, “I will go ask at the reception. I don’t think there should be a problem. Nobody is there in the campus any longer.”

—

Piyali managed to get away from the guest house before Mrinmoyee reached. But avoiding her forever was not possible. Piyali had to take Mukundo’s dinner to his room. When she reached there, she saw a lock on Mrinmoyee’s room. It meant she was still in her brother’s room. Sumedha was also with them. Piyali lingered around for about half-an-hour hoping that Sumedha would come out, or Mrinmoyee would go to her room. But neither happened and it was getting late for his food and medicine. Reluctantly she drew in a deep breath and knocked on the door. To her relief Sumedha opened it.

“Food for Mukundo Babu. You can take your Pishima to guesthouse restaurant, right?”

“Okay.”

“Thanks. I will leave now.”

“Won’t you see Baba?”

“I will come later, Sumedha.”

“Who is it, Sumi?” Mukundo called out just then.

“Miss Banerjee, Baba,” Sumedha replied before Piyali could think of a way of stopping her.

Curious about the visitor, even Mrinmoyee came to the door and now there was no hiding for Piyali.

“Come in, Miss,” Sumedha said politely unaware of the tension that had just filled the doorway.

To avoid creating a scene right away, Piyali walked in silently. She looked at Mukundo and it was clear that he had also woken up to the crisis.

“And what exactly are you doing here, Miss Banerjee? Was once not enough? Do you want to kill off my brother…”

“Pishima!” To everyone’s surprise, Sumedha interceded before either Mukundo or Piyali could say anything, “You can’t talk to her like that.”

“And why not, little Missy? Do you know who she is and what she has done?”

“I know. When both you and Baba had abandoned me to this boarding school, she was the one who took me in and who looked after me. You can’t insult her.”

“Sumi. You go with Piyali. I have to talk to Pishima,” Mukundo ordered.

Piyali immediate made to leave dragging a seething Sumedha behind her. But she remembered something at the door.

“Your medicines,” she turned and addressed Mukundo, “They are in the drawer.”

“Thank you, Piyali.”

—

“You know Sumedha, you are not like a typical ten-year old. You are far too mature for your age. It shows when you talk. Unfortunately, it also shows when you talk disrespectfully. To the grownups. One day your Baba, the other day your Pishima. What has come upon you?” Piyali asked Sumedha once they were back at her house.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? It’s not nothing, I can see that. You are cross with me. I don’t quite know why, but you are. And still you fight with your Pishima for my sake. What is going on?”

“I fought with Pishima because what I said was true. You took care of me. But nobody loves me!” Sumedha burst out, “Nobody loves me for my sake. Pishima got married and left me behind. Baba dumped me here and went to US. All these years, I thought I was special to you and that’s why you cared for me so much. But you too…”

“What about me?”

“You cared for me only because of Baba. You love him, not me.”

Piyali was stunned. Should she pity the child’s isolation and misery, or should she marvel at the complexity of her emotions at such a young age? She slumped on a chair and beckoned Sumedha to her side.

“Sumedha. It is true that I came here because I felt guilty towards him. But ever since I met you, it has been all about you and me. I haven’t met your Baba in these five years. Not even once. I had no hope of ever seeing him again. If I didn’t love you for yourself, you could not have felt it for so long. No, sweetie. It doesn’t work like that. Nobody can fake it. Much less before someone as intelligent as you.”

Sumedha started crying silently.

—

To be continued