He clutched the paper and hurried out of the house. He tried to peer into the dark roads. It was a chilly and foggy night. At a distance, he thought he saw a shadow moving and ran after it with all his might. As he closed in, the shadow turned out to be a tree by the roadside. But he had moved in the right direction. A little further he could clearly see a human figure walking slowly, with a backpack and a handbag. It didn’t take him long to catch up and yank at her hands.

She screamed.

“Shut up, you stupid girl,” he yelled, “What do you think you are doing? What if it was indeed not me and some ruffian?”

She blanched. “Mukundo Babu!” The words barely escaped her throat.

Without another word, he started dragging her back to the house. Finally, she found her voice.

“No, Mukundo Babu! Please let me go.”

He stopped and looked at her with dagger eyes. “Don’t make me slap you again.”

She cowered then and followed him meekly.

—

“Tell me now,” his voice had softened now that they were safely home, “What does this mean?” He brandished her letter at her. She was sitting on the edge of her bed and he was standing before her.

Exhausted and cornered, she couldn’t hold out against him.

“My mother was a prosti…” she started speaking, then stopped and decided to not use the English word, but the word Meher Jaan had used, “tawayaf.” She had said something about the crafts of tawayafs. Perhaps that was a saving grace.

“What on earth are you talking about? Ma knew your mother.”

“Not back then. Not when she was Salma Jaan. When she worked in Meher Jaan’s establishment. When I was conceived.”

“Tell me everything. What do you know and how did you find out?”

Piyali hadn’t thought it would be so easy to talk to Mukundo about it. But she talked. And she was surprised at how unburdened she felt after she had told him everything. It hadn’t been so difficult after all. Even if he wouldn’t want to marry her now, he didn’t look disgusted or angry.

He sat down beside her and put his arm around her. Pulling her close, he planted a kiss on the side of her head. “You are in shock, Piyali. Don’t exert yourself further. Go to bed now. Don’t try to take decisions in this state of mind. And trust me. Can you do that?”

She nodded and her eyes filled up.

“That’s good. Come on now. Take off your shoes and I will tuck you in. I will be here until you fall asleep.”

She wanted to tell him to not worry and go to bed himself. But she was exhausted. So, she just did what he asked and closed her eyes. He pulled up an armchair close to the bed and held her hand.

—

Mukundo woke up in the armchair to an aching neck. Piyali was still fast asleep. She must not have had a good sleep since she had found out, he rued. After gently disengaging his hand from hers, he stepped out of her room only to find Mohima passing by. She raised an eye in mock disapproval.

“It’s not that, Ma,” Mukundo started clarifying, but stopped. After all ‘that’ also had happened earlier in the night. Then it struck him why Piyali had come to his room last night. She had wanted to give herself to him before leaving. To let him know that her love was not to be questioned. To give him that solace. Presently, he sighed. “I need to talk to you, Ma. It is important, and perhaps shocking.”

—

“Has she still not woken up?” Mohima asked later in the morning.

“I will check,” Mukundo replied and tiptoed into her room.

She was awake, sitting on her bed with her knees folded, her arms around her legs and her head buried her in knees.

“Good morning,” he greeted and her head jerked up.

“Mukundo Babu!”

“Yes, me. Now I need you to call up the school and take a day off.”

“Why?”

“Because we have to go out. Be quick. Your breakfast is waiting.”

She obeyed. It wasn’t like she could have gone to the school and worked like nothing had happened.

—

She froze when he drove up to a jewelry shop later.

“Why are we here?” she asked.

“To buy our engagement rings.”

“Mukundo Babu!”

“Yes?”

“Are you… are you still going to marry me?”

“I thought that was decided couple of month ago.”

“You… don’t… have to,” a knot formed in her throat and she talked with difficulty, “You shouldn’t.”

He reached out and cradled her face in a now familiar gesture. “Piyali. I love you. I want you. We never knew what your past was. It could have been anything. It could have been this. It is this. So, what has changed? Besides, it’s not your past. It’s your mother’s. And even she left it behind. For your sake. Why do you want to let that past catch up with you now? Wouldn’t it break her heart?”

“But Mukundo Babu! You? And Kaki?”

“I have spoken to Ma and she agrees. We don’t have to shout about it from rooftop. The world may not be ready for this. But at least we are not hypocrites. I love you. I want to marry you. So, unless you have changed your mind–”

“Mukundo Babu!”

“Thank God, you haven’t,” he smiled, “Let’s go.”

—

After buying the rings, he drove to a poolside restaurant. The seats were well spaced out and they had enough privacy. He shifted his chair so that he sat next to her, instead of sitting across from her. He took her hands in his and said, “Piyali. There is something I want you to know. I understand insecurity. I have dealt with it every single day for over six years. My longing for you was so intense that I have lost count of how many times I thought of walking up to you and confessing. But then I thought of how old I was for you. How I had the responsibility of a young daughter on my shoulders and it didn’t matter how much you loved her, asking you to be her mother would be unfair. And the worst thought was that you would accept me only because you felt grateful. I, of course, hadn’t thought that you would not accept me because you were grateful.” He chuckled here, then continued, “Anyway, the point is that I know what feeling insecure is like. But you know what. The moment I discovered that you reciprocated my feelings, I rose above my insecurities. I felt confident that it didn’t matter what my shortcomings were, I would love you so much that it would compensate for everything.”

“Of course,” she mumbled, feeling overwhelmed.

“Why I gave that little speech was to tell you that I don’t dismiss your insecurities. I only ask you to have trust in our love and to rise above them. And I know I never proposed earlier. So…”

He knelt in front of her and took out the ring they had just bought from his pocket. “Piyali Banerjee. Will you marry me?”

She started crying and could only nod in reply. Satisfied, he slipped the ring into her fingers.

“And now,” he slipped back into his chair and said cheerfully, “We have no engagement ceremony planned really. So, you can do the honors as well.” He handed her the ring they had bought for him. Wiping her tears, she slipped the ring on his finger and smiled.

“With this, you must promise me, Piyali, that you will not repeat the stunt of last night. If I hadn’t woken up and followed you out of the room– I am mad at you. But I’m just so relieved that it was prevented that I am not scolding you. But remember. When you don’t know where to go, you must come to me. Is that understood?”

“Yes,” she said in a clear, but small voice, “And I am sorry. For all my stupidities.”

He brought her hand up to his lips and planted a soft kiss on it. “All is well now. Don’t worry.”

– The End –