His alternating resentment and pervasive depression had driven him to the brink by the time the holidays came and they boarded the plane for a flight back home. Piyali found him snappy and irritable like never before. He shouted at the woman at the ticket counter and when Piyali tried to calm him down he growled her into silence.

They had to spend almost twenty-four hours on the flight and his mood didn’t bode well for how it would go. So despite fearing another outburst from him she ventured to ask.

“Is something the matter, Mukundo Babu?”

“Why do you ask?” he said gruffly.

“The delay in checking in wasn’t that woman’s fault, you know. And the flight wasn’t going to take off without us. And even if it was her fault, I do not remember you ever being rude to people like that.”

The gave him a pause and he looked at her for a long moment. She could see that he was in pain.

“It hasn’t been an easy time for you, Mukundo Babu. I know that. But you can’t stop being you,” she added gently.

His bitterness for her returned and he grumbled, “What would you know?”

“I know,” she replied in a low voice, “I think I know. Even if I can’t do anything to ease your pain.”

He didn’t reply and closed his eye.

After a while, once the flight was airborne, he turned towards her and asked, no longer in an irritated tone. “You are happy to be going back, aren’t you?”

She smiled, eager to talk of her own feelings as well as divert his mind from his depressing ones, “Very. But I wish I could have gone back for pujo.”

“Pujo?” he was surprised, “From what I remember Kaki and Ma had to drag you to the pandal. You never wanted to go there.”

“That’s because they wanted me to talk and socialize and play with other kids. I liked going with Baba better. He never pestered.”

Mukundo smiled.

“And you haven’t been there for a long time, but when you were there,” she added, “I liked going with you too.”

“You were so young. Do you even remember?”

“Perhaps my childhood memory is particularly sharp,” she said and then suddenly looked away. Her face was hot and flushed for some reason.

Mukundo didn’t notice this peculiar act of hers and chuckled, “Must be. I remember too. Of course, I was old enough to remember. When someone was visiting, you preferred hiding in a corner with a book or Chanda Mama. You are fine now, though, aren’t you? You have many friends.”

“I was fine then too, Mukundo Babu. I liked being by myself. That doesn’t mean there was anything wrong with me. I still like being by myself or only with a few people I feel comfortable with. Why do you think something is wrong with me?”

Mukundo fell silent. Piyali grew worried that she had been too rude and broke the silence, “Mukundo Babu! I… I’m sorry. I didn’t…”

“No!” he came to himself, “I am sorry. You are right. I have been shallow in judging you. What I had forgotten was that you were always so mature for your age. The few people with whom you did feel comfortable were almost always older to you. Perhaps that’s why I figured in the list too.”

That made her blush. “I… I never thought of it this way.”

Mukundo was somber through the rest of the journey, but to Piyali’s relief no longer sour like in the beginning.

—

“Piyal!” Mohima took her aside one day, “Whatever the hell happened with that girl? Aporna?”

“What… what do you mean, Kaki?” Piyali stammered at the unexpected question.

“Mukundo won’t tell me anything,” she suddenly sounded nervous, tired and pathetic, “Except that they aren’t together any longer. But he is hurting. And I don’t know what to do.”

“Kaki. It isn’t my story to tell. Besides, I am not sure that he would feel any better if you knew. There isn’t anything I or you can do about it. It’s over.”

“Promise me, then, Piyali that you will look after him. There is something that worries me. You know that I am not the kind to meddle in the affairs of my grown-up children. But this time… He feels so vulnerable and I so helpless.”

“Kaki. There is nothing I will not do for him. Just that…”

“What?”

“Nothing alarming. Mukundo Babu treats me like a kid. He doesn’t see me as a friend he can lean upon.”

“Oh Piyali–”

“Which doesn’t mean that I am not there for him, Kaki. Rest assured.”

Mohima nodded and gave her a quick hug before leaving abruptly. Piyali could guess that she was trying to hide her tears. She felt like following her and assuring her better. But remained frozen to her spot.

—

“Where are you going?” Mukundo ran into Piyali just outside her house.

“Oh. Nowhere urgent. I can go later. Please come in, Mukundo Babu.”

“It’s okay. You go ahead. I will come some other time. It is more important to meet people you can only meet while in Kolkata,” he replied with a smile, but one that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Come, Mukunodo Babu,” she yanked at his hand and led him into her house, “I’m not meeting anyone so important. It’s just a packet Shahid has sent for his girlfriend, which I have to hand over to a friend of hers.”

“Girfriend?” Mukundo stopped abruptly, “Whose girlfriend?”

“Shahid’s. What happened?”

“How could he? And you are really so cool about it?”

“Mukundo Babu?”

“He has a girlfriend here? What has he been doing with you at Stanford?”

“For God’s sake, Mukundo Babu. He is not my boyfriend. We are just friends. Two people who miss Kolkata and bond over it.”

“People who miss Kolkata and bond over it,” Mukundo repeated, agitated, “And what do I do? Don’t I miss Kolkata? Can’t you bond with me over it? Must you go around looking for other people who miss Kolkata?”

“Mukundo Babu! What has come upon you?”

“What has come upon me? To think that a girl who obsessed over me as a child can’t even talk to me for a while now–”

Her confusion morphed into fury at that reference and she lost her cool, “For God’s sake, Mukundo Babu. Are you going to hold one stupid childhood moment against me all my life? Children say the damndest things. Are those going to define their adult choices forever?”

She stopped on seeing his bowed head and flushed face. ‘Something has just gone terribly wrong,’ a thought flashed in her mind, but she didn’t get a chance to sort it out in her head. ‘I’m sorry,’ Mukundo mumbled and turned on his heels. He almost ran away from there.

Piyali stood transfixed at her place for a long time. What had just happened? She had blasted him. Why? Because he referred to that embarrassing incident from her childhood. But why did he do that? It wasn’t to embarrass her. Had he wanted her friendship? She absently looked at the packet in her hand, then turned back and walked listlessly back to her house. Once in, she shut herself up in her room, pleading a headache and cried hard into the pillow.

—

To be continued