At first, he thought that the library was empty. But he decided to look in anyway. In the part designated by his father as the reading corner, she lay motionless. She seemed to have fallen asleep. When he went close to her, he found that the tears had barely dried on her cheeks. She had cried herself to sleep. Her anger earlier had only left him dumbstruck. But this sight tugged hard at his heart. The melancholy that he had briefly witnessed in her countenance earlier now started to engulf him. She was unhappy! That was a possibility he had never entertained. Not because she had a particularly cheerful disposition. But because she seemed to be above petty expressions of joy or distress. A dry acceptance of it was her way of dealing with the world. ‘It doesn’t make sense,’ she seemed to say, ‘But it is what it is.’ They had always had a camaraderie of sort and she told him about people around her. But he didn’t remember her ever complaining. Had he been missing something all through? Or had something drastic happened now? He made to wake her up and ask her, but hesitated. Then almost in a trance, he gently caressed her hair and then left abruptly.

—

Piyali opened her eyes in confusion. Had she been dreaming or was Mukundo there a moment ago? And did he… She ran her fingers through her hair retracing his touch, but felt unsure. She fell back on the chair with a sigh. She had been stupid to yell at him. For something so unreasonable too. He might not even have realized that she was upset. And even if he had, he wasn’t obliged to acknowledge it or to fix it. The amount of time and attention he had given to her all these years should have been more than enough for her. But despite herself, she kept wishing for a little something more. He was friendly. They talked. He understood her. He helped her. That’s all there was to their relationship. A great deal, but not enough. She wanted more. Perhaps she wanted friendship. But that wasn’t possible. Why would he want to have friendship with her? He didn’t lack friends. And she was too much of a freak for anybody to seek her as a friend. Why would Mukundo? He was gracious, so he was kind to her. But asking for anything more would have been a stretch on even his generosity.

—

Mukundo visited her house the next morning, hoping to catch her there and hopefully start a conversation afresh. She had stepped out of the house, but he sat down with her father to have a cup of tea.

“Which job is she finally taking up, Kaku?” he asked her father in the course of small talk.

“I don’t know, Mukundo. You know how difficult it is to figure out what is going on in her mind,” Debendra Banerjee replied. They really struggled with a genius daughter at home. They had never known how to deal with her and it being difficult was an old complaint Debendra had.

Mukundo laughed and responded as ever, “She is alright, Kaku.”

He was still laughing when he turned towards the door to find her standing here. There was an inscrutable expression on her face. Then without a word she made to go to her room.

“Piyali,” Mukundo called her, “I was going for a walk. Would you care to accompany me?”

For a moment, it looked like she would refuse. But then she said, “Okay. I will meet you outside in five minutes.”

—

“I am sorry,” she said before he could begin the conversation.

“What for?”

“For yesterday. I yelled at you. Obviously, I shouldn’t have.”

Mukund wasn’t feeling half as calm as he was pretending. But he was emboldened by the thought that she cared for what he thought. So, he managed to hide his nerves.

“The outburst was a little odd coming from you, but you are not supposed to apologize for it. I apologize that I caused it by not listening to you. Tell me what was troubling you.”

She shook her head, “Nothing. It was an irrational outburst.”

At her outright refusal, the confidence he had worked up disappeared. “I am sorry,” he said, hiding his embarrassment behind a tight smile, “For assuming you needed help. I should have known better. See you later.”

Piyali felt a panic rise within her seeing him leave, “Wait, Mukundo Babu!”

He stopped and looked at her with the most neutral expression he could manage.

She ran up to him, “What did you mean by that?”

“By what?”

“That you should have known better. Known better about what?”

“That you are not a person who needs anybody’s help with anything.”

Piyali flinched, “Why would you say that, Mukundo Babu? Am I arrogant?”

“When did I say anything about being arrogant?”

“What other kind of person doesn’t need anybody’s help with anything?”

“An arrogant person may not take anybody’s help, but they do need help every once in a while. It is a self-sufficient person who doesn’t need help. And that’s what you are.”

“Sounds like a fancy way of saying arrogant. Or difficult, as Baba keeps saying. And you tend to agree.”

That gave Mukundo pause. Was she acting out? Why? He pushed aside all his confused, embarrassed feelings about her and tried to engage with her so that he could get to the bottom of things.

“No. That’s not true. And you know it, don’t you?”

“How am I supposed to know it one way or the other?”

“Because you are not only a Mathematics genius, Piyali. You are also an extremely wise person. You can read people. Including me. And this makes you so unique–” he stopped abruptly. It was as if he had been stumbling through an unfamiliar terrain in darkness and suddenly a lightning had illuminated a path ahead. He took a deep breath before speaking again, “Are you lonely, Piyali?” For someone so unique, that would be an obvious problem, won’t it? Why had he not thought of it before.

Piyali, who had been listening to him with rapt attention, started at the question. If he had slapped her publicly she couldn’t have looked more mortified. Pursing her lips, she replied, “No.” And then she left.

Mukundo cursed himself silently. He was pretty sure he had hit the nail on the head. Except that he shouldn’t have. He should have probed gently. In that sudden moment of the cursed enlightenment, he didn’t think through his words.

—

To be continued