Mish' Fiction

2 years later…

Paritosh stood near the window, looking out, the door of his office wide open. Rupali knocked and stepped in, without waiting for his permission. He turned and smiled at her, then stood at his place with his hands in his jacket pocket and his shoulder hunched over. The way he usually stood when he was trying to come up with a way to explain a complicated concept.

At last, he sighed, relaxed and looked back at her. “That went well,” he said.

She smiled back, hesitant, “You think so?”

“I do,” he said and then added after a pause, “Dr. Banerjee.”

At that moment, she didn’t know her place in the world. Even physically, she felt like she was hanging between the floor and the roof, not knowing whether she was supposed to ascend towards the sky from there, or descend to feel the solid earth beneath her feet.

They had not spoken about it for over two years. They had spoken about Computer Science, her research, their friends, eating preferences, even their families and their relationship with their parents. But they hadn’t spoken about themselves. About this tension between them. The need to be close and far at the same time. The meetings always at public places. Hundreds of potential phone calls and face to face meetings converted to online chats and emails, for the fear of snapping something fragile that kept their lives stable.

Then he walked towards her as she stood rooted, her palms sweaty and her throat dry. He reached around her and shut the door before asking – straight and flat – flat in voice, but his inner turbulence betrayed by those smoldering eyes, “Are you seeing someone?”

“No.” The clarity of her voice surprised her. She had expected a choked hissing sound to come out of her throat. But she was loud and clear. And she was thankful for it.

In a weird gesture, he pressed his palms against the back of her head. In the very next moment, she realized why. He had pushed her against the door, almost violently. But for his hand cushioning it, her head would have been hurt. It wasn’t, but his hand… His action was speedier than her thoughts though and before an image of the situation had completely formed in her head, his lips were pressing against hers. His tongue hungrily devoured her mouth next and moments later she coughed from lack of breath. He withdrew as swiftly as he had commenced and looked lost for a moment before gathering his wits and stepping back to give her some space.

“Are you hurt?” he asked. She looked up at him. The fierce passion from moments before had been replaced by taut lines on his face. He was tense again. With concern.

She shook her head to dispel his worries, although she had indeed been uncomfortably out of breath moments ago.

“I’m sorry, it wasn’t supposed to happen this way. I got carried away.”

“What wasn’t?”

“You were supposed to enjoy it, not get suffocated,” he smiled, but in a contrite way.

“But I enjoyed it,” she retorted. She had! Perhaps not in the way Paritosh had meant her to. Not in the way that had left her panting with desire. But she had enjoyed this long-awaited affirmation of being wanted by him.

He shook his head with a knowing smile.

“I did,” she reaffirmed, then grabbed his hand, looked him straight in the eyes and added, “Paritosh.” Fulfilling her side of the bargain with that one word.

Paritosh drew a sharp breath and closed his eyes. Her finally addressing him by his name had the same profound impact on him that her earlier ‘No’ to seeing someone else had had. But instead of an uncontrolled passion, this time he was gripped by warmth and security. He put his arms around her and drew her in a gentle embrace. She snuggled up to him happily.

“What shall we do now?” he said, languorously.

“I don’t know. Live, I suppose?”

He chuckled.

“Yes. Live,” she said, “You have punished me long enough.”

“Punished you? Why would you say so?”

“When was the last time I was allowed alone in this office with you?”

“Allowed? I wasn’t allowing myself to mess up with our lives. My punishment, if that’s how you want to think of it, was not for you. I was punishing myself.”

“I am in a generous mood right now. So, I will admit that argument.”

Paritosh laughed, “Thank you, Your Honor.”

Then he kissed her again. This time he was slow and mindful for her pleasure.

“What should we do now? Shall I ask you out for a coffee?” he grinned as he held her close.

“I think I am done with coffee shops for a long time now.”

“Would you…” he hesitated for a moment, then finally asked, “Would you like to come home?”

She buried her face in his chest and replied, “Happily.”

—

To be continued

Dear Rupali,

I don’t know if you will ever read this. Perhaps some day. Perhaps never. But in case you do. I want you to know that when you told me about your relationship with your father, I had wanted to say more than just “I am sorry”. I had wanted to say that you will never again be uncared for. Whatever happens, I will always care for you. I had also wanted to tell you that I will care for you despite knowing that you are perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. I also wanted to tell you how proud I am of you.

I couldn’t say all this. And a lot more. You know why.

Perhaps you still understand everything I don’t say.

Perhaps you don’t.

Perhaps someday I will find out.

Perhaps never.

Right now, this letter, like all others, will take its place in my locked drawer.

Love
Paritosh.

—

“Aniket! I haven’t seen you in a while. How are you?” Paritosh motioned his brother and Meena inside his house.

“I will make some tea,” Meena walked to Paritosh’ kitchen with confident familiarity and Aniket sat down on sofa. For a long moment, he didn’t utter a word. Since their confrontation in Paritosh’ office, the brothers had not talked much. Paritosh pretended that nothing was the matter, but Aniket wasn’t as obliging. Paritosh was about to conclude it will be another one of those fruitless meetings, when Aniket finally spoke.

“I want to speak to Rupali.”

“Okay,” Paritosh replied with studied casualness, “When you want to speak to someone you call them.”

“I can’t.”

“The last I remember,” Paritosh added cautiously, “You were the one who had stopped taking her call. So just call her now.”

“She is the one who is not taking my calls now.”

Paritosh sighed. “In that case, it is obvious, that she doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“That’s why I am here. You can get her to talk to me.”

“How can I get her to do something like that?”

“She works for you.”

“Of course. And that’s why I have no business dictating who she should or shouldn’t talk to outside of work.”

“And it is your business to fall in her love with a woman half your age.”

“That has got nothing to do with you.”

“Has it not?”

“Aniket. There is nothing between her and me. There can’t be. She works for me. It is unacceptable at the university. Don’t you understand?”

“I don’t think so. I think something has been going on between you two since even before she set her foot here. Come to think of it. She was my friend. How come I didn’t even know that she was applying to your university, and specifically corresponding with you to be her supervisor?”

“Have you considered,” Paritosh no longer felt like he was talking to his baby brother, but rather an adversary; his tone became caustic and harsh, “That the reason could be the same that you have yourself told me a thousand times? That you were least interested in her Ph. D. applications and were struggling with your backlogs while she was diligently applying for the Ph. D. programs, writing Statements of Purpose, getting recommendations, and was also helping you with stay afloat through the last semester of the college?”

“Paritosh!” Meena had come back with tea, “Why are you talking to him like that? Weren’t you the one who had always warned me against making an issue out of his academic performance?”

“Well – you know what? He is no longer a vulnerable adolescent. He needs to grow up.”

“You can help him, Paritosh.”

“Meena ji. He is not asking for a fancy car, or a permission to go to a college I know would be too difficult for him, or an expensive toy. No, I can’t help him.”

“Let me talk to her.”

“It might have just worked out in India. But in this country, if the two of you follow her against her wishes, you will be in trouble for stalking. So, for God’s sake, take my advice. Leave that girl alone.”

Then he stood up to leave, “I have some work to do. I am going to my office. Please remember to lock the door when you leave.”

He called Rupali up from his car, “Have you finished reading those papers?”

“No Dr. Khanna. I need another day–”

“Never mind. Meet me with your notes on whatever you have finished reading. I will be at the coffee shop in fifteen minutes.”

—

When Aniket announced that he was taking up a job on the East Coast and was planning to leave, Paritosh told Rupali about it.

“Is his mother going with him?” she asked.

“I won’t trust him with another person’s responsibility.”

“It is so sweet of you to take care of her. To take care of them both.”

He thought for a bit, trying to decide whether he wanted her to know. Then he spoke, “She had taken care of me when I needed it. I can never forget that.”

Paritosh’ father was violent man. His mother died when he was fourteen. Perhaps succumbing to the injuries from domestic violence. With nobody to manage his father’s temper and drinking, Paritosh lived in constant fear of being beaten up; fear that was realized far too often. He would have run away from home and lived the life of vagabond had the old man not decided to remarry and bring a much younger bride home. Meena was barely ten-years older than Paritosh. He could never bring himself to call her mother and hence always addressed her as “Meena ji”. Whenever it felt like his father was about to lose temper, she would find a way to take her husband to their room. She would keep Paritosh away from them at such times and he never quite figured out if she also took the beatings like his own mother or if she had a way of calming him down. But he did know that she protected him in those crucial years when his life could have been destroyed forever.

Two years later, Paritosh left for college, Aniket was born and his father died. The drinking had consumed him. After Paritosh finished his degree, he came to the US for Ph. D. and brought Aniket and Meena with him. His father had left considerable family property for them. Over time he sold them all, brought all the investments to the US and bought two adjacent houses – one he stayed in, the other was for Meena and Aniket.

“I knew I wasn’t going back to India. The memories of my father would haunt me,” he told Rupali.

“Neither of us has a happy father story. But yours is too horrible.”

“It’s over. It has been a long time.”

“Thank God for that.”

—

To be continued

Paritosh couldn’t sleep. She wanted to wait for him. How tempting the idea was! He had asked her not to do so.

But perhaps she still would.

What he now knew for sure was that he was going to wait for her. Till today, he hadn’t known if she would reciprocate his feelings. Sure, he had noticed her appreciative glances every now and then. But that fleeting crush on a Ph. D. supervisor – an authority figure, whom you looked up to – was quite common. It usually subsided with time. Over the years he had developed an immunity to such glances. Those came and went away, he didn’t even notice them. Those didn’t mean that a student had really strong feelings for him or loved him. So, he hadn’t assumed that Rupali’s admiration meant anything either. It was not humanly possible to be happy about assuming so. Heart trumps brains when it comes to things like love and happiness. But he was definitely relieved. Because acting on those feelings was out of the question. So, it was better she didn’t have them. That helped him keep a lid of his own emotions too.

But now that check had disappeared. Thanks to a rash act by his brother. Now he knew that she was struggling with the same emotions as he. And her emotions were strong enough that she had blurted them out in front of his brother. Strong enough that she wanted to wait.

What will it be like two or three years down the line? Will they survive the tension between them? Will she still feel the same towards him by then? What if his brother was still in love with Rupali then and resented their relationships?

He had no answers to these questions. What he did know – he turned in the bed and thought again with a smile playing on his lips – was that he was going to wait for her.

To ensure that they didn’t slip up and make a mistake before their moment came, he will have to make some rules. He sat up, grabbed a notebook and scribbled something down.

—

Rupali realized that not only had Paritosh reduced the frequency of their meetings, but when they did meet, he would always come up with some excuse to meet in a public place instead of his office. He was punishing her, she concluded. She would put up with it, she decided. She was, after all, responsible for taking them both to the brink of a career suicide.

The consolation was that after a few days, when she had started playing along with his punishments, herself proposing to meet at the campus coffee shop, or one the open quads while requesting meetings, and making sure that she wasn’t the first one to reach for a group meeting or get-togethers, their conversations went back to normal. Even though it was at a public place, they would still spend hours discussing the latest papers either of them had read, or figuring out her research plan.

One day, about two months later, she felt bold enough to enquire. “Is everything fine at your home? Are Aniket and his mother okay?”

“Why yes – Rupali. You don’t have to bother about them.”

“I don’t have to. I just want to. Just normal human curiosity, you know!”

Her annoyance showed and Paritosh mellowed.

“Of course. Don’t be angry, Rupali. I just– I sometimes worry that you might get entangled in things and lose your way. But I am reminded as often that you know your way around the world and I needn’t act like a guardian to you. Not that I make a good guardian,” he chuckled here, “Look at how messed up Aniket has turned out.”

“Aniket doesn’t know how lucky he is to have you. Most fathers can’t care for their children the way you care for him.”

“One could say I have spoiled him.”

“He is fine. He will find his way, in time.”

“You talk like you are his grandmother’s age or something. You are the same age. And you know what you want from life. He mostly doesn’t even know what he wants the next hour.”

“I didn’t have a choice. I had to know what I wanted from life. Else nobody was going to give it me.”

Due to complications during her birth, Rupali’s mother had to have her uterus removed. She could not bear any more children and Rupali’s father wanted nothing more than a boy. Her mother died when she was ten. Her father didn’t remarry, which was surprising considering how badly he had wanted a boy. He wasn’t in the least bothered about bringing up of her daughter.  After her mother died, some relatives from the extended family took care of her for a while, but soon enough she was taking care of not just herself, but also the entire house. The good thing about her father’s indifference was that he never objected to whatever she wanted to do. She when she prepared for her engineering entrance exams, got admitted into the Computer Science program of one of the best colleges in India, and after that decided to go to the US for her Ph. D., her father did not stand in her way. He didn’t drop her to the college hostel on her first day as the other parents did. He didn’t even come for the convocation when she was awarded a degree as well as many other prizes. But he didn’t mind when she needed money for anything.

Now, with her fellowship, she didn’t even need money. So, she was practically living on her own.

—

To be continued

Rupali entered the coffee shop and found Paritosh already there, occupying a corner table. Two cups of cappuccino were already placed on the table.

“I ordered for you. I hope you don’t mind,” he said as she slipped into the chair opposite his.

“Thanks,” she replied, fully aware the neither of them were likely to finish their coffee.

“Firstly, I am sorry for the way my brother behaved.”

“I am sorry for triggering it in the first place.”

“It isn’t as much about you as it is about me. So, don’t blame yourself.”

It was at the last monthly get-together he had organized for his students at his home that Aniket had spilled the secret of his heart to Paritosh. That Rupali was the mystery woman he was in love with all along. And that he intended to ask her out soon.

“Rupali? Really?” Paritosh’ first reaction was of disbelief. Thankfully Aniket was too excited to notice it or take offence.

“Is she expecting it?” Paritosh had asked more carefully next.

“I am sure she is.”

It wasn’t just his conflicting emotion that made Paritosh wary of Aniket’s confidence. He genuinely could not imagine Rupali and his brother together. The two were totally different. Aniket, to Paritosh’ eternal regret, was a spoiled brat. Rupali, on the other hand, knew what she wanted from life and would do whatever it took to achieve it. Her maturity belied her age, without which Paritosh would never have fallen for her.

Now Aniket and Rupali! Strange as it sounded, he realized that he had no business interfering. If Rupali could indeed love someone like Aniket, perhaps she knew what for.

Presently Rupali was objecting, “But you aren’t–”

“Rupali. He has found out something about me that I would never have told you. At least not while you work under me. But it is better that you don’t find out about it in the same bombastic way that I found out about you.”

She went rigid. It couldn’t be what it sounded like. Or could it?

“But you and I, right now,” he continued, “We are both adults, right? We understand the consequences of our actions. We know how to control them to avoid unpleasant consequences. Do you agree?”

He paused and looked at her. His question was not rhetorical. He was expecting an answer.

“Yes,” she managed to hiss.

“So here is the truth about me. I am–” here he paused and drew in a breath, “I am attracted to you. And that I suppose makes it two of us.”

She averted her eyes.

“But we both know we can’t act on it.”

She nodded, “We can’t act on it.”

“I am at a good place in my career; you are at the beginning of what I foresee to be a wonderful career. Even a whiff of a scandal and both will be destroyed. You understand that, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“Good. So now we can leave this behind us and get back to work as usual.”

Despite herself, that hurt her. She understood everything he said. She had known them herself all along. University rules didn’t look kindly at a professor-student relationship, especially when it was between a Ph. D. student and her supervisor – a direct hierarchical relationship.  And yet – how could it be work as usual after knowing that her feelings were reciprocated?

Outwardly, she held her composure and told him, “Your mother called me.”

He looked puzzled, “Who?”

“Your mother. She wanted to meet me and talk about Aniket.”

“Meena ji?”

It was Rupali’s turn to look puzzled.

He rubbed his temple, and looked completely out of wits.

Assuming that the idea of Rupali meeting her had troubled him, she clarified to comfort him, “I haven’t met her. I told her that I will speak to you first.”

“Yes. You don’t have to. I’m sorry. I will talk to her not to do something like that again. Meena ji wants to bring the world into her son’s laps if he desires and this time she has crossed a line. Oh right! You are confused. She is not my– I mean she is my step-mother.”

“Oh!” That put the relationship between the brothers in a different light. “I’m really sorry, Dr. Khanna that I have strained your relationship with your family. Is there anything I can do to fix it? I have been trying to talk to Aniket since leaving your office, but he won’t pick up my phone–”

“Don’t! This is not your fault, Rupali. This is not your problem to fix. You must not worry about it. The only thing you need to worry about is,” here he smiled, “Doing well in your research and getting your Ph. D. And of course, living your life without being affected by all this.”

She nodded, non-committal.

“Promise me that you would do that, Rupali,” he insisted.

“I promise that I will give my all to my research and one day – hopefully soon enough – I will have defended my thesis. And then we will not be in this fix. We will be free to make our own decisions.”

He fell speechless for a moment, then spoke slowly and deliberately, “No. You can’t go there, Rupali. We don’t know when that will be, what kind of people we would be by then and what other questions we may have to ask at that point. Please. Don’t do this to yourself. Don’t do this to me.”

“Fair enough.” She was seething from inside, but he had been nothing if not rational.

“I will repeat this. Live your life. You will meet people. Including, I must say, my brother. He may not have behaved his best today. But know that if you ever got together, I will be very happy!”

“No! Dr. Khanna. You can’t do this. Yes – I know where we stand. What we can or can’t do. But I am not a doll that you can sacrifice me to your brother.”

Damn! In Rupali’s eyes he had made the same mistake that he had warned Meena ji against.

“I’m sorry,” he quickly acquiesced, “You are right. It wasn’t my intention. But I was way out of line there. I didn’t mean to set you up or anything. I was just saying… Anyway. None of my business. Never again.”

Despite winning the argument, she felt utterly defeated. The situation was set up for her defeat. There was no way she could win. This wasn’t what she had come for. When she had received her Ph. D. offer and had learned that she had been accepted by one of most renowned professor in her field of choice, she had been on the top of her world. She hadn’t landed in the US expecting to fall in love with this professor in her very first meeting with him. She hadn’t thought that she would not call him by his first name – like all his students did – despite him having requested so in that very first meeting because she would become afraid of any intimacy between them.

And she was definitely not prepared for the eventuality that her supervisor’s brother, who had been her batchmate during undergraduate days, would fall in love with her, react badly to her refusal and goad her into blurting out the name of the person she was really in love with.

Paritosh, then, made her promise that if she was ever troubled by Aniket or his mother, she must come to him immediately.

—

To be continued

“Are you all right?” Paritosh looked up from the screen and asked, making Rupali start.

“Yes. Why do you ask?” she searched his face for any knowledge of what had transpired between her and Aniket last evening. There seemed none. But she couldn’t trust her judgment. She might not be seeing it, because she didn’t want to see it.

“You are unusually fidgety. If you have to be somewhere, you can come back later. I will finish reading the document and send you an email.”

“I’m fine, Dr. Khanna. There isn’t a whole lot to read. So, if you could read now and give me your feedback, I can get started on further reading.”

“As you wish.”

He turned his attention back to the screen and Rupali felt relieved. Aniket hadn’t been stupid enough to talk to his brother about it after all. But her relief was short-lived. A minute later, the door to Paritosh’ office flung open. It had been shut partially to indicate that he was busy.

“You really should knock, Aniket,” Mildly annoyed at the interruption, Paritosh chided his brother.

“Oh, I am sorry,” he shot dagger eyes at Rupali, which she met boldly, despite her throat going dry at the thought of immanent proverbial spilling of beans. “Did I interrupt something private?”

Paritosh now turned his full attention to his brother, realized that he was drunk, and asked sternly, “And what do you mean by that?”

“I mean exactly what I should mean, Bro. You are pretty sneaky. But your girlfriend here spilled all the secrets. All I have come here to ask is why! Why must you go after the one woman who I wanted?”

“Aniket!” Rupali cried, “I never said anything on Dr. Khanna’s behalf.”

“I am talking to my brother, Ma’am. Will you please shut up?”

“You are the one who will shut up and leave, Aniket. You have no business coming to my office drunk. Leave now.”

“You must always be the hero, right Bro? Fine, I am leaving. But what you did wasn’t right. And you will pay for it.”

“I’m sorry, Rupali. What on earth was that?” Paritosh started speaking apologetically, then the guilty look on Rupali’s face gave him pause. “You know something about it?” he sounded tentative.

“Aniket has made a mountain out of a molehill. I will speak to him,” she replied.

“What is the molehill here?”

“You don’t need to be bothered about it, Dr. Khanna. I spoke hastily, in anger–”

“What did you say?”

She fell silent, but he didn’t relent. “What did you say, Rupali?” he repeated, more insistent this time, with the same sternness in his voice with which he had asked Aniket to leave.

“I did not say anything on your behalf. I only spoke of my feelings for you. He was badgering me–”

Paritosh slumped back into his chair.

“This is a disaster,” he mumbled.

“I will speak to Aniket. He is wrong to blame you. I never–”

“Leave Rupali. I need to think this over.”

Her breath caught in her throat. It had been almost two years since she had started her Ph. D. program with him as her supervisor. He had never spoken to her like that before. As she dragged her feet away, they felt as heavy as lead. At the door she turned back, but saw him leaning back in his chair, his eyes closed and his brows furrowed. It was a disaster, after all.

—

Paritosh opened his eyes as soon as he heard the door being shut behind her. What a terrible way to discover that she had feelings for him. And what terrible timing. It was still at least two years before she could finish her Ph. D. under him. She surely understood the situation. That must be why he had never guessed it. She had hidden it well. So why would she go ahead and blurt it out all of a sudden? To his brother of all people?

Perhaps he would be calm and collected enough later to figure this out. But right now, he had to manage an immediate crisis. If Aniket went blabbing around before people at the university, both his and Rupali’s career would be in jeopardy. He called up Aniket’s mother.

Yes, Aniket has talked to her and asked her if she knew about Rupali and what Paritosh felt for her. And yes, she had happily told him that Paritosh loved her.

“Meena ji. Hadn’t I told you that nobody was to know about it?”

“But it was your brother. What harm could it–”

“Well. He is in love with Rupali too and creating a ruckus about it now.”

That unsettled her for a moment. But soon she was singing a different tune altogether. Since Paritosh could not be with Rupali anyway, what was the harm? Aniket would be happy with Rupali and surely keep her happy too. Would her parents agree to an inter-caste marriage?

“That is not for you and me to decide, Meena ji. Rupali will love and marry whosoever she likes. And if it isn’t Aniket–”

“But you could talk to her.”

“I will talk to her what I must talk to her about. But not about this. Now please listen, there is an immediate problem and you must help me with it.”

He explained to her that if Aniket breathed a word about him and Rupali to people at the university it could create a huge problem. He extracted a promise from her that she would talk to her son right away and stop him from doing something like that. Then he returned his attention to what he must do with Rupali.

—

To be continued