“Is Kaki fine?” she dropped by his office a couple of days later. Although he had kept his promise of visiting her at home, she still came by once in a while.

She almost knew the answer by the looks of him. His eyes were bloodshot and there were dark circles around them. As if he hadn’t been sleeping well.

“I don’t know,” he said, then added after a pause, “Perhaps not. There is a biopsy scheduled for tomorrow.”

“Biopsy?” she asked, alarmed.

“They suspect… stomach cancer. At her age it won’t be easy.”

She had never seen him so dejected before. She held his hands and took him out on the terrace.

“I feel like such a moron, Karishma,” he spoke with an urgency. He must have been dying to talk to someone, “I should have taken her stomach troubles and heartburns more seriously. But she kept saying it was nothing, just old age, and I kept believing it. Only when it became difficult for her to eat did we go to the doctor. And now…”

“We don’t know yet that it is too late. Let the biopsy results come. They can manage cancer till quite advanced state these days. I’m sure it will be all right.”

He smiled, weakly, and said, “Yeah. Perhaps. I’m sorry. I’m the one boring you with sob stories now…”

“Prof. Sen. These are not sob stories. In fact, I would hate you if you didn’t tell me. Will you call me after the biopsy results are out tomorrow? Please?”

He sighed, “Okay. I will.”

—

A letter had come from the accountant and Karishma was going to her father-in-law to hand it over to him. But she stopped short at the door when she heard him discussing Siddhartha with his wife.

“Siddhartha called. He needed some money,” Mr. Jain said.

“What for?”

“Don’t you know? Jhilmil has been diagnosed with cancer.”

“Oh! That. Yes. How much?”

“Well. His expenses will be endless. Whatever we could give, he said.”

“How will he ever return it?”

“I don’t know. But I can’t just say no.”

“Why not? Haven’t we already done enough for them? And what is the point in sinking money in the treatment of such an old woman? For how long will she live anyway?”

“Oh, for God’s sake. I hope you don’t expect your own sons to reason like that should something happen to you. Anyway, you leave this to me. I will figure out what to do.”

To ensure that she was not caught eavesdropping, she knocked when she heard her mother-in-law’s footsteps approaching the door. She handed the letter and left without a word.

—

She came in without knocking and he didn’t notice because he was busy on phone.

“Yes… So can I get a loan against it? Right… yes… A personal loan I guess…”

She waited until his call was over. He jumped in surprise on seeing her in front of him.

“Karishma. When did you come?”

“Just now.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize. Please sit.”

“I’m so disappointed with you.”

“What for?”

“You didn’t think it important to tell me that you needed money for Kaki’s treatment.”

“But… It’s okay, Karishma. My savings will last for a few months. And I am making arrangements for more–”

“Before going ahead and taking loans against whatever you have, how about tapping some friends?” She held out a checkbook for him.

He took it uncertainly and asked, “What is it?”

“My checkbook. All the leaves are signed. I will keep you updated on how much cash the account has.”

“Oh my God!” he sprang out of his chair, “Karishma, I can’t–”

“You don’t remember what I had told you, do you?”

He looked at her blankly.

“That I will never have much for you. But perhaps some money….”

“Karishma–”

“You are ready to borrow from my father-in-law, perhaps even from my Uncle. So why not me?”

“They would know what they are doing. They won’t hand me blank signed checkbooks. And you, Karishma – you may need your money someday. If anything goes wrong–”

“Won’t you give me shelter, if something goes wrong?”

“Karishma!”

“As you yourself predicted, I might need it someday.”

“What are you–”

“Don’t cast me aside, Siddhartha,” she grew tearful and didn’t realize that she had used his first name. He did and gulped hard on hearing that. She continued, “Please promise me that you won’t borrow until I can’t help you any longer. Please!”

How stubborn and difficult could she get! Was she going to throw away everything she had because he had bought her a plastic bracelet all those years ago.

“It was a twenty-rupees plastic bracelet, Karishma. It isn’t worth throwing away your small fortune.”

“My mother-in-law thinks that your mother is an old woman already. It isn’t worth spending money trying to cure her cancer. Do you agree?”

“What the–”

“Exactly. You know better than to put price-tag on everything, don’t you? Please? Prof. Sen?”

He stayed silent for a long time, staring at the checkbook in his hand. Then he dropped it on his table and came around to face her.

“If I try to refuse any longer,” he said, “It will be an insult to you, to us, and to your generosity and capacity to love. I will use it. I will have to. And I will try to use it responsibly. You also promise to tell me accurately what your financial situation is like so that I can decide how far I can go. Will you promise me that?”

She nodded.

“And there is something else. Just a while back you had called me Siddhartha.”

Her eyes widened. “I had?” she flushed, “Sorry – I didn’t–”

“Will you, in future, continue to call me that? If we are friends, isn’t it high time that we got the formality of Prof. Sen out of the way?”

She gulped. “I don’t know. I am so used to it. I will try.”

“Please do,” he smiled. For the first time that day she saw a genuine smile on his face. She reciprocated automatically with a smile of her own.

—

To be continued