This house had been a second home to her for six years now. She never had to think twice about dropping there unannounced. Encouraged not so much by her own sister’s affection as by Mukundo’s and his mother’s. But this morning she was dreading going in. Everyone was aware of the question that hung heavily in the air, making it dense, suffocating. And everyone would be looking at her to answer it. It. Just. Wasn’t. Fair. She loved them all. She loved the kids. And yet – this shouldn’t have been her question to answer. She hated her sister at that moment. Why had she wanted another baby? Why was one not enough? Why did she have to die? She hated Mukundo. Why had he not stopped her, even though he didn’t particularly want it? She hated the doctor. How could she not see any complications through nine long months and keep assuring everyone that delivery would be a breezy affair. She hated Mohima and her own father for coming up with this scheme, so perfect in their world, but which had put her between a rock and a hard place. If she went with the scheme, she would be betraying her love, making Pronab miserable. If she chose Pronab, she would spend her life with the guilt of abandoning those children to an uncertain fate with a stepmother.  She would be miserable either way. And at least one another person dear to her would be too.

“Piyali. Steady.” Lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t seen Mukundo and bumped into him.

“Oh! I… I am sorry… Mukundo Babu.”

She looked up at him and saw a mere shadow of his former self there. Those bright eyes were sad, there wasn’t even a hint of the smile that perpetually lined those lips, there were black circles around his eyes and he had aged more in these two months than in last five years.

“You okay?”

She should be the one asking that question.

“Yes. You are leaving already. I got late. Sorry.”

“That’s all right. Ma is with them.”

“Take care, Mukundo Babu,” she blurted. It was odd for her to say something like that to him. But if he was startled, he didn’t show it.

“You too,” he said and trudged towards his car. She looked after him. He used to have such long, confident strides. He walked with a hunch now. Before she could notice more that had changed for worse in him, she turned away and ran into the house.

—

Adi was taking his afternoon nap and Sumedha was busy gurgling and thrashing about in her baby gym when Mukundo came to the spare bedroom they had designated as a nursery. Piyali lay reclining in an armchair reading a book. Mukundo stood still at the door for a few moments. The sight inside was at once reassuring and uncomfortable. The children were happy and cared for, but Piyali didn’t belong there. She had been on an unpaid leave for last two month, which hadn’t been easy to arrange in the very first year of her job. She hadn’t been practicing music, hadn’t been going out with friends, nor did she have any distractions inside the house. A free bird was cooped up in his house.

He shifted uneasily and that made her look up.

“Mukundo Babu!” she sprang up. That didn’t fit either. She never used to be uncomfortable in his presence. “You came back early.”

“Yes,” he walked in and sat down on another chair next to her.

“Is there something you want to say?” she asked after she saw him wringing his hands in silence for a while.

“I worry about them, of course,” he said looking at the children, “I have to. I am their father. If I didn’t, I would have killed the idea before it ever took root. But that doesn’t mean I have stopped worrying about you, Piyali. You are still my little friend and you always will be, irrespective of what comes out of all of this. ”

“Mukundo Babu!”

“I know I am too broken a man right now to be of much help or support to you. But remember this. Say no, if you are uncomfortable and nobody would ever talk about it again. That much, I promise you, I can still ensure.”

“I…” her throat ached as she willed her tears to stay back, “I need time, Mukundo Babu.”

“Yes. You have it. I just had to let you know.” He stood up realizing that she needed to be left alone. “I will freshen up in a half an hour and then I want you to take a break. Go home, meet your friends, or do whatever will relax you.”

—

‘He doesn’t like the situation any better than I do,’ she rued as she drove away. At the main road, she turned left, instead of right. She had to meet Pronab right away.

“I know what I am risking,” she wrote in her diary that night, “Or I hope that I know. Not only am I throwing away my love, I am going to marry a man, who might never love me like a man loves a woman. He is marrying me for the sake of his children and I am doing the same. I myself might be a child in his eyes. Just old enough to take care of the younger ones. He will never hurt me, and always respect me. I know him too well to doubt that. And yet – he might never love me like…

“Ma Durga! Give me the strength to go through with this. Let it not become too much to bear in future. Let nobody have a reason to question the upbringing of the children. Let the sacrifice I have forced on Pronab not go waste. Bestow peace on him, Ma, and on Mukundo Babu.”

—

It was the last day of college before university closed for summers. Mukundo was gathering the books and papers he wanted at home, when the young man stumbled in, drunk and unsteady on his feet.

“Prof. Thakur!”

“Who are you?”

“Nobody. For you. But I was somebody for her. For Piyali. How could you!”

“Who are you? She never mentioned…”

“I checked your CV online. It has your date of birth. You are… what… thirty-six years old. She is twenty-one. She thought she was too young to introduce her boyfriend to her family, the boyfriend she intended to marry one day. But she wasn’t too young for you, was she?”

Mukundo stood stunned and tongue-tied.

“So, what’s the deal, Prof. Thakur? Have you lusted after her all these years? Your wife’s little sister? And grabbed this perfect emotional blackmail opportunity to…”

“Leave,” there was nothing else Mukundo could think of saying.

“She never mentioned, but did you ask her before emotionally blackmailing her?”

“You should leave immediately; else I will have to call the security.”

“You won’t answer me. What was I even expecting…”

He stumbled out and Mukundo slumped into a chair.

Could he be just some drunken admirer? Or was he indeed… Why wouldn’t Piyali tell him? Surely she trusted him enough.

‘She thought she was too young…’

Was he a university student? How could he not have noticed if Piyali was going around with someone?

‘She never mentioned, but did you ask her before emotionally blackmailing her?’

He didn’t. Even when he talked to her he talked about the children first!

—

To be continued