“Who is Pronab? And what about Bangalore?” Mukundo asked, confused.

“She did not tell you, Mukundo? This boy – Seema had brought the proposal. A very good job. Tell him about it, Pihu. He would understand much better than we would.”

“He is an IIT graduate. He works for Google.”

“And Bangalore? You are indeed going to Bangalore?”

“Kolkata is not good enough for her, Mukundo,” her father replied when she didn’t.

“I will get going, Kaku. It’s late.” With that he left. After he was out of their eyesight, he started running. Running away from there. Running away from her. He wanted to scream his lungs out.

Once back in his room he took deep breaths. As if his lungs had run out of air and he could not inhale enough of it. The feeling of betrayal was choking him. The day’s newspaper was lying on the table. He grabbed it and tore at its pages violently. After he had shredded those inanimate pages completely, he gained some semblance of control over himself. Then he sat down to think.

What was he feeling?

Betrayal.

Why?

Because he had come to expect that she cared about him, that she would stay in Kolkata for him – especially given that ISI Bangalore was in no way better than ISI Kolkata for her career. And that – perhaps once day – she would reciprocate the feelings he had for her. He definitely hadn’t expected that she would get married to some Tom, Dick, Harry at the first chance she got and run away to a distant city for no good reason. Her parents didn’t have that kind of influence on her.

What reason did he have for these expectations?

And this is where his anger turned to self-loathing. Because the answer was – he had no reasons whatsoever. It was his fantasy running wild. That too without his conscious knowledge. He didn’t realize he had started expecting all this. If he had, he would have known to crush those expectations before they ever become so potent. He would have known that if she were at all to be romantically inclined, it would be for a man ten-years his junior.

He needed to fix his head, and his expectations from her.

—

She came to meet him the next day and slumped into a chair in his room.

“So, big plans, eh?” he asked, faking cheerfulness.

She didn’t seem to notice his cheerfulness.

“I don’t know what to do,” she said, rubbing her face against her hands, “What should I do?”

“How am I supposed to know, Piyali,” Mukundo chuckled, still preoccupied with his own misery, “You are the genius one here.”

She looked up startled. Her face blanched.

“You are angry at me!” she said, astonished.

Agitated, he stood up and started pacing the room.

“Why are you getting married?” he asked.

“I don’t know if I am getting married. But Baba is insisting.”

“So? Have you always done what your Baba insisted on?”

“No. Not when I knew what I wanted to do.”

“Huh?”

“I mean that I would have resisted Baba if I knew that I can live my life alone.”

“With due respect to your academic achievements, Piyali, and even to your maturity, you are twenty right now. Why do you have to take a decision like that now? You have your whole life ahead of you?”

“And that prospect is frightening.”

“What. Do. You. Mean?”

She buried her face in his hands, “Nothing.” Then she looked up, “But it doesn’t matter if I have to face the question now, when I am twenty, or I postpone it to when I am twenty-five or thirty. This question will remain. What do I do? Do I decide to remain alone? And I have to admit it Mukundo Babu, that unlike you, that prospect terrifies me. But it isn’t like there is a very good alternative. Marrying someone Baba chooses seems even more terrifying. Even my parents don’t understand me or find it difficult to cope with me. How well is a stranger chosen by them supposed to do? So then what option is left? That I find someone compatible with me? Well, the prospects are laughable. Forget romantic relationships, Mukundo Babu, I never had any meaningful relationship even with my family. Other than with you, I have had no meaningful relationships at all. Either I freak them out, or they bore the hell out of me. What do I do, then?”

As she spoke her heart out, the despair that had driven her to tie that noose for herself returned. Then the stunned look on Mukundo’s face drove her to further despair. She shouldn’t have brought this mess to him, her sinking heart seemed to scream. She stood up abruptly and made to leave.

“Wait, Piyali.”

“I’m sorry, Mukundo Babu. I shouldn’t–”

“Marry me, Piyali.” He blurted.

Her reaction came after a few seconds. It took her time to register what he had said. And then her face contorted as if in pain.

“No, no, no, no,” she cried out, “Don’t take pity on me, Mukundo Babu. Don’t do this. I can’t take your pity.”

Mukundo had surprised himself with his thoughtless proposal and he could not react in time. When he came to, she had already run away. He instinctively made his way towards her house but stopped midway. She had started crying, he recalled. How likely it was that she would go home in that condition. And then he knew where she would be.

—

In the reading corner of the library, she hadn’t fallen asleep this time. She had stopped crying, but was still sitting with her face buried in her hands.

She looked up when she heard his footsteps and immediately looked away.

“Don’t run away, Piyali. Please listen to me,” he said and knelt near her chair.

She remained seated with her head hung down. She spoke slowly, “I am ashamed of myself, Mukundo Babu. I shouldn’t have said all I said. Please let me be. I have humiliated myself sufficiently.”

“I spoke hastily, Piyali. But the thought was not hasty.”

She went still on hearing that.

—

To be continued