Rupali walked to Paritosh’ door with heavy steps and sleepless, red eyes the next morning. Mihir had been to the pharmacy, desperate and mad; and she had barely saved bottles in the store from being smashed. He had been so angry even when he had given up and was leaving that Rupali feared for her job at the pharmacy owned by his father.

Swallowing all her pride, she had pleaded with him, “This job is very important for me, Mihir. I know I have hurt you. But please don’t say anything to your father.”

He had glared at her. “I don’t give a damn about you,” he had growled, “Or about this pharmacy. If that’s why you had been fucking me, too bad. You didn’t need to.” She had relaxed and then had wondered how inured she had become to insults. She only worried about her jobs and income. And then a horrific thought had come to her. Was she much better than a prostitute which Mihir had claimed she was? If someone had to swallow all the insults and learn to ignore everything demeaning done to them, were they any better off than those who had to lock away all their feelings of self-respect and sell their bodies for money?

“What the hell, Rupali!” her appearance that morning jolted Paritosh out of the disinterestedness he had been feigning recently, “What happened to you?”

“What! Nothing. Why?”

“You look horrible. Come in and sit down,” he guided her to a chair and pressed her down on it, “Do you need something?”

“Dr. Khanna!” Rupali stood up, “You are unnecessarily getting worried. I am fine. Perhaps a little tired. But nothing alarming.”

He grew self-conscious and stepped away. She made her way to Meenal’s room.

Paritosh couldn’t rid himself of the feeling that Rupali was not well. He went to check on her again before leaving, but anticipating her rebuff didn’t ask about her health. Instead he asked her about Soumitra’s project.

“Did your brother get to do his project work?”

“He will come this evening, Sir. He might need a few days.”

“Sure,” he turned away, but looked at her again, “You take care, Ms. Banerjee.”

“You too, Sir.”

—

“Didi! You are not well,” Paritosh overheard when he came back that evening, a little earlier than was usual for him.

“Dr. Khanna will be back in an hour, Piku. I will go home then.”

“Please call him, Didi. I’m sure he can come back a little early–”

“What is going on?” Paritosh interrupted as he reached the door.

“Dr. Khanna!” Rupali jumped up.

He moved towards his daughter, but kept his eyes fixed on Rupali.

“You came early,” she mumbled, throwing a cautious glance at Soumitra. He was tactical enough to keep quiet. His sister wouldn’t like it if he said anything to Paritosh that she considered inappropriate.

“Yes. I got free. How are you Soumitra? How is your project coming along?”

“Fine, Dr. Khanna. I should be done in three to four days.”

“Take as much time as you need. Would you like to leave now, Ms. Banerjee?”

She gulped before replying, “If it isn’t a problem, Sir.”

“It isn’t.”

Rupali knelt to talk to Meenal. When she tried to stand up after that she felt dizzy and stumbled.

“Didi!”

“Rupali!” Paritosh was closer to her and he held her to steady her. Then he walked her to the bed. After hesitating for a moment, he felt her forehead and inhaled sharply.

“You have fever,” he spoke plainly, “Stay here. I will get a thermometer. Soumitra, please come with me.”

Soumitra threw a nervous glance at Rupali, hoping for some guidance, but her eyes were glued to the floor. So he was on his own as he followed Paritosh out.

“I don’t think she should go to her night job today,” Paritosh told Soumitra as he rummaged his cupboard for the thermometer, “We need to ensure that she doesn’t. Can she take a day off?”

“She does have a few leaves,” Soumitra replied, happy to find Paritosh on his side, “But I don’t have her supervisor’s number. I will need to get that from her.”

Paritosh nodded, then said, “Let me talk to her first.”

Soumitra was relieved that someone older was taking up the responsibility that he didn’t feel quite equal to shouldering.

“Should I take Meenal to another room?” he asked.

Paritosh gave him a sad smile, “You know her. She may not come with you.”

“She might. She came to me today. She wouldn’t call me by my name, but when I said I was her friend, she called me Friend several times.”

Paritosh was startled. He looked at Soumitra to find him smiling proudly.  He felt his throat choking. “That’s… wow! That’s quite something,” he mumbled.

When they went back to Rupali, she was sitting in the same position they had left her in. Meenal was standing beside her holding her hand.

“Mamma is ill. Manna is ill,” the little girl said, her face and voice unable to express her anxiety, but nobody in the room could help feeling it.

“Yes, Meenu. But she will be all right.”

“Come with me, Meenu,” Soumitra held out his hand. Meenal took it. Paritosh’ disbelieving eyes followed them until they disappeared outside the door.

The he turned his attention to Rupali and sat beside her. For the first time since he had deposited her in that position, she stirred.

“Put this in your mouth,” he instructed.

She obeyed, meekly.

Paritosh took the device from her once it beeped and saw the reading. 102 degrees. “You are unwell,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, “I should leave now. I will ask Soumitra to call a taxi.”

“Remain seated,” he spoke in his best teacher-like voice, “I said you are unwell. And you are not going anywhere unless you can assure me that there is someone other than two teenagers to take care of you.”

“I only need to sleep it off, Dr. Khanna. And if not, I shouldn’t be stay close to Meenal. She might get infected too. I’m sorry I put her at risk today.”

“There are enough spare rooms in this house,” he hissed at her now, annoyed, “What exactly is your problem, Rupali? You are not well. That isn’t something one needs to be ashamed off. Why on earth would you go on pretending that you are fine when you are not. Can you tell me one good reason why you can’t stay here tonight? Who is going to mind? Your boyfriend? If he will take you to his house, I don’t have a problem. But otherwise–”

—

To be continued