Rupali felt disconcerted for a moment when Paritosh opened the door for her the next morning instead of the maid who came to do the morning chores. But he gave her a relaxed smile and she smiled back at him.

“Are you feeling fine today?” he asked as he closed the door after her.

“Yes. Dr. Khanna. Please don’t worry about Meenal.”

“I wasn’t–” he stopped short, then changed the subject, “Her counsellor is going to be away for a month.”

“Oh! What happened?”

“Apparently she has fractured her leg in an accident. So she is on a bed-rest now.”

“That’s bad.”

“Meenu is comfortable with her. So I don’t want to look for someone else. I will wait for her to come back.”

She nodded.

She felt him eyeing her from time to time as he finished his breakfast and prepared to leave for the university. Finally, she had to ask, “Is something the matter, Sir? Do you want to say something to me?”

He shook his head hastily, then added, “Actually yes. I want to you think about this. Don’t answer me right away. I understand that you can’t and don’t want to come away for a vacation. But do you think you and your brothers could accompany us on a day trip to Lonavala? This Sunday. Maya and I would like to go–”

“I can stay with Meenal here, Sir.”

“I want her to go to. But that won’t be possible if you don’t come.”

Rupali fell silent.

“It’s not an obligation. Think about It and then feel free to say no. But check with your brothers. They may also enjoy an outing.”

She nodded slowly and turned away from him on the pretext of stopping Meenal from chewing her toy.

—

“What are you doing, Paritosh?” Maya stepped into his office to the sight of old papers piled up all over the table and floor.

“Looking for an old assignment submission.”

“How old is that exactly?” she curiously surveyed the innumerous piles he had made.

“Seven years, perhaps.”

She chuckled, “Why? Somebody is asking you to explain the grade you gave to an assignment seven-years ago?”

He laughed too, but continued to look.

At last he stood up patting the dust off a set of stapled hand-written papers. “This is it,” he smiled at her.

“Penny for your thought?”

“The first time I had seen Rupali, Ms. Banerjee I mean, in that supermarket, you remember? I had thought she looked familiar. But I couldn’t have imagined why. This assignment is the answer.”

Maya raised her eyebrows.

“This is hers. Rupali Banerjee. The name is right there. She was here, in this university. In my class.”

“I thought she didn’t go to college.”

“She didn’t graduate. Didn’t even finish a semester, I think. But she had started. And she had done this assignment.”

“Did she tell you?”

He shook his head.

“How did you figure out then? After all these days?”

“Yesterday I came to know that her parents died seven years ago. I figured that’s why she wouldn’t have gone to college. Or rather dropped out,” he waved the assignment at her.

“And you just remembered this seven-year old assignment out of blue.”

“I had always remembered this assignment. If you read it, you will know why. You don’t always see such originality and sincerity in seventeen-year-olds.”

Maya frowned, “And you are sure she is the one who was in your class?”

“Almost. But I will have to confirm with her.”

“This is strange, Paritosh, almost creepy. Are you going to tell her that you have been obsessing over her assignment for last seven years?”

“Oh, come on, Maya. Don’t be absurd.”

“You don’t be absurd. If she is indeed the same girl, she would freak out if you waved this assignment at her.”

He tossed the assignment on the table and the table and slumped into his chair.

Having made her point, Maya saw it fit to change the subject of the conversation, “Shall we go to Lonavala this Sunday?”

“I have asked Ms. Banerjee. If she comes along, or at least agrees to stay with Meenu, we will definitely go.”

“We can take Meenal, can’t we? She would come with you.”

He sighed. “You know very well, Maya, that I will have to give her my full attention in that case. We won’t get to spend time together, if Ms. Banerjee doesn’t come.”

Maya shrugged. “As you see fit.  I will leave now. I have a class to teach.”

He nodded absently.

—

Paritosh checked the baby monitor. His daughter was sleeping peacefully. But he was restless and sleep evaded him. He turned in his bed once again and picked up the assignment lying on the side table.

He remembered when he had read it for the first time. Those were the happy times of his life. He was going to get married to Amrit in a few weeks’ time. After a year of courtship. His parents were still alive. And he was prone to feeling happy and hopeful about life.

It should have been possible to forget a little assignment, even if it was unusually good, submitted by a student he hardly knew, and one who never came back to collect the grades, when life had so much to offer. But he had remembered it. And he had also remembered that the student who had submitted it never attended another class.

What were the odds that he should run into that one student at the supermarket, and then again at the psychiatric clinic, and that his autistic daughter should choose to trust that one person in the entire world? Was it creepy as Maya had suggested? Or was it inevitable destiny? What destiny though?

—

To be continued