Mohima looked on partly amused, and partly exasperated, as Piyali explained her logic.

“Did this lead to Mukundo hitting you?”

“No. No, Kaki. That was my fault. I had said something reprehensible and I can’t repeat it before you.”

“Then, my child, if you must pay me back for what you think has been my graciousness, do it this way. Give me my son’s happiness. Which seems to lie in you.”

“Kaki!”

“Your mother was wise, Piyali. But you are not a nineteen-year old orphan anymore. You are an adult, who can take her own decisions. And when I tell you that the things you are so worried about don’t matter, when Mukundo tells you that they don’t matter, will you not consider changing your old views? Your mother only wanted to caution you against trying to take shortcuts. And you have done justice to her values. At this stage, when you are both capable to making your own decision, accepting your mutual love isn’t wrong. It will make me very happy, Piyali. And for the first time in years, I will feel assured that my son is happy and taken care of. You think about it.”

—

“Come in,” his voice boomed from behind the doors when she knocked.

She entered gingerly and stood near the door. He was lying on his bed, his arms shading his eyes. But he knew who had entered. He spoke without moving his arms or head.

“What have you come here for? To offer another solution for my heartache?”

He was sulking! Piyali felt like laughing and crying at the same time.

“I have come to apologize.”

“For what?” he sat up.

“For being silly. Idiotic really. For not accepting the obvious. For hurting you.”

“Fine. You are forgiven,” he went back to lying down on the bed and shading his eyes with his arms, “Please shut the door while leaving.”

“Mukundo Babu!” she called him pleadingly.

“What?” He removed his arms from his eyes and looked at her innocently.

“That’s it?”

“That’s what you came for, right?”

“I—I–” she stammered, then seemed to gather her wits together, “I came to confess something to you honestly.”

“Okay?”

“That the reason I would never marry anyone else is that I am in love with you. Have always been. Will always be.”

Mukundo stirred now and moved with alacrity. He strode towards the door where she stood, shut the door and then pinned her against it.

“Say that again,” he hissed.

“I love you,” she croaked.

He pressed his lips against hers. This time there was no surprise or shock. Only a sweet anticipation, well fulfilled.

“No listen to me,” he said after breaking the kiss, but still holding her captive against the door, “You have made me run after you a bit too much–”

“I’m sorry,” she responded automatically, but he interrupted her.

“That’s not enough. You must show your repentance in action.”

“How?” she asked, apprehensive.

“By proposing to me.”

“What?”

“You heard me. If you don’t propose to me, I am going to keep you at arm’s length for the rest of our lives. You can take your time, of course.”

As if to demonstrate, he stepped back and put an arm’s length distance between them. He flashed a challenging smile at her and turned on his heels, meaning to go back to his bed.

But he hadn’t taken even the first step when Piyali’s hand grabbed his. “Mukundo Babu!” she yanked at it to make him turn back. And as he stared wide-eyed, she sunk to her knees and asked, “Will you marry me?”

All his self-control gave way at the sight. He hadn’t expected her to come through so quickly. He helped her up gently and then drew her savagely in a bone-crushing hug.

“Yes,” he whispered in her ears and bit her earlobe to make her moan. Their caresses became so urgent and violent that they soon made their way to his bed. But after a minute, Piyali stopped him and sat up, panting.

“We need to give it time,” he said and she nodded.

“Go to your room,” he added, “Or someplace. I need time to digest this.”

She nodded and started smoothening her dress. But she could not leave the room before another long-drawn passionate kiss from him. She wasn’t complaining.

—

She wondered where she should go. She would be too restless if she stayed alone in her room. And she wasn’t yet ready to face Mohima or even Sumedha. There was only one refuge. The music room. She went there and took out the tanpura.

She spent next half an hour singing the bada and chhota khayal in Raga Pilu. Then she opened her eyes and toyed with the string of her instrument while deciding what to sing next. That’s when she noticed Mukundo standing at the door and flushed.

He walked in, smiling. “I was trying to stay away from you for a while to clear up my head,” he said as he sat down next to her, “Then you started singing. You are brutal.”

“I am sorry,” she replied, averting her eyes, “I did not know where to go.”

“When you don’t know where to go, you come to me, Piyali.”

“You had asked me to go away.”

He cradled her face in his hand and said, “Even then.”

Tears flooded her eyes and she tried to turn her face away from him, but he didn’t let her. “What is it?”

“I am almost afraid, Mukundo Babu. This can’t be real. Will I wake up from a dream and realize that all this never happened?”

“If it were the dream, the solution is simple, isn’t it? You just have to wake up, come to me, and confess.”

They both smiled at it.

“Come now,” he said, “Let’s join Ma for tea.”

“I can’t face her yet.”

He guffawed, “So? You intend to hide here for the rest of your life?”

“Mukundo Babu! You are not helping.”

He sat up and offered his hands to her, “I am. Come on, now. Let’s go together. There is nothing to face. She will be happy that you came around.”

He asked as they left the room, “I never asked you before. But who taught you music? I don’t think you have ever gone to music classes since you are here. ”

“Ma was my Guru. Music was her sole indulgence in life.”

“She must be an accomplished musician to have taught you so well.”

That gave Piyali a pause. Having grown up with her mother’s music she had never wondered where it came from. She knew nothing about her mother’s past. If Mukundo Babu was impressed, her mother must have been accomplished. But how? And if she was so accomplished why did she not earn a better living by giving music lessons instead of struggling with menial jobs all her life?

She looked at Mukundo to voice her thoughts, but realized that he had moved on from the topic. Before she could decide whether to bring his attention back to it, they had reached the porch and Mohima and Sumedha were already waiting for them.

“I see that you two have made up,” Mohima said when she saw them together.

Piyali looked like she would sprint away and hide herself in some corner. Mukundo also blushed, but he laughed and met his mother’s eyes boldly. She nodded slightly to convey her approval.

—

To be continued