Mish' Fiction

Mrinal waited before picking up the call. It was Raksha’s father. What would he say?

“Mrinal. Police was here a while back.”

Mrinal sighed silently.

“Did she really do it?”

“It does look like her, Uncle. We won’t know until Mahi is found.”

“She is her mother…” Was he trying to plead for his daughter? To treat her leniently if she is caught?

Mrinal wanted to give a befitting reply, but it won’t do to make them a foe at this junction. So, he desisted. “Where is Raksha, Uncle?”

“She had called from Singapore that she would be coming soon. She has left him too…” Antara had told him what problem Raksha had come to her with. So, he wasn’t surprised that her relationship was over again.

“Where is she?”

“If she has already come, she hasn’t contacted us yet. I have given whatever information I could to police. There is a flat whose keys are with her…”

“Uncle. I will call you back. I am getting a call from police…”

—

Mrinal and Antara were panting by the time they reached the pediatric ward in the hospital.

Raksha had changed her name officially. Police were able to trace her on a flight to Mumbai from Singapore. It took some time to figure out where she was staying. Because it wasn’t in the flat her parents had told the police about. After asking around the cab drivers and taxi services operators on airport, they found the hotel she was staying in. Mahi was also there.

“She had kept her sedated most of the time, it seems,” the doctor explained to them, “Thankfully, there was no overdose. The child is weak. But she would be fine. She should be awake in couple of hours.”

“Can we see her doctor? Please!”

“Be careful. Don’t try to wake her up or talk to her. She is on IV to help recover her strength.”

They nodded and were led to the room where little Mahi was lying on a bed too large for her size. Her eyes were closed and face pale. But she was there. In flesh and blood. And she would be alright, the doctor had assured them. Antara prayed like she had never before done in her life. Even Mrinal did!

—

“She is my daughter,” Raksha was defiant, when they went to the police station to give statements, “I have rights over her.”

Mrinal banged hard on the table, got up and looked at her with bloodshot eyes. “She is not your bloody daughter. She was ten-days old when you had left her. For greener pastures. And she wasn’t even a month old when this woman had gently rocked her to sleep. It was her wedding night and she had heartily accepted a baby abandoned by her own mother! If you ever say that again….” Mrinal stopped because Antara held his hand and pressed it! She didn’t want him to say anything untoward. He gritted his teeth and turned away from Raksha.

“We have given our statements, Sir,” he told the officer present, “You have seen the state our daughter was in. My wife is a counsellor who has met this woman in a professional capacity and she thinks that Raksha… Priya Malhotra is mentally unstable. Please look into that aspect as well.”

The officer was more than sympathetic to them and he nodded.

—

But Antara had her issues too. Having been sedated most of the time, Mahi didn’t remember much of her kidnapping and did not show any signs of mental trauma. Still, Antara hadn’t sent her to the playschool even after she had recovered.  And she wasn’t going to her office either. She had bought stacks of dairy milk and fed it to Mahi so often that the child now didn’t want them any longer.

Mrinal came home early to find Mahi begging to be let go to play with Shyama. Antara had become so clingy towards her that she wasn’t leaving her even with Shyama. There was no choice left now. He would have to confront Antara. This wasn’t healthy for anyone.

“Let her go, Antara,” he said.

“But it’s time for her to drink milk,” Antara gave an excuse.

“Now?” Mrinal looked at the clock and then back to her.

“Soon.”

“Not for at least half an hour. And Shayama knows her timings. Let her go.”

Antara put the child down, but she wasn’t relenting yet. “Shyama might forget.”

“Then you will remember, right?”

Mahi ran out to go to Shyama’s room. “Wait Mahi. Let me call Shyama Auntie…”

“Let her go, Antara,” Mrinal interrupted again, “She knows her way around the house.”

Antara didn’t counter him, but sat there sulking.

Mrinal washed his hands and face; then came back to her.

“Antara. You have not resumed office yet,” he said as he sat down beside her on the sofa. For some reason, he remembered that it was the same sofa she had been sitting on the evening he had brought Shashank home! That terrible and then beautiful evening.

“There aren’t many enquiries,” she gave a lame excuse again.

“You were refusing clients couple of weeks ago because there wasn’t enough time. You are telling me that it has changed all of a sudden?”

Antara looked down at her hands lying in her lap. She looked so miserable that Mrinal could not help feeling that there was something more to all of this. He put his arms around her.

“What is it Antara? What is eating you up?”

“She managed to lure her away because I hadn’t given her a bar of chocolate,” Antara said in a quivering voice. Police investigation had revealed that Raksha had lured Mahi with a Dairy Milk. Apparently she had been asking Antara for one throughout their shopping, but Antara had refused because it was lunch time. “How bad a mother am I!”

“You had done the right thing. Since when did giving into the uninformed, uneducated whims of children become good parenting? Of course, you need to feed her properly and not give chocolates in lunch time. Forget about it Antara. It wasn’t your fault.”

She did not respond and she did not look up.

“What is wrong? Talk to me, Antara. Please.”

“Before the mall, I had gone to the gynecologist’s office. I had picked up my reports…”

She sounded so depressed that Mrinal was alarmed, “Gynecologist? What did the report say?”

“I am pregnant,” she said and started sobbing.

Mrinal looked at her uncertainly for a moment. Why was she crying? This was what they had wanted! He gave in to his own emotion.  He held her kissed her forehead. Then he let himself loose and kissed her all over her face even as she continued crying. He hadn’t experienced this elation earlier. Mahi was his lifeline now. He would give his life for her sake. But that bond had developed only after she was born. When he had planned for a child with Raksha, it was under a lot of uncertainty. It had been more of a way of salvaging their relationship than a desire for a child. It was different this time. He was looking forward to having a child with Antara. This eager anticipation was a first! “Stop crying, you stupid girl,” he said after he stopped kissing. “Is this how you break such a great news? And all this crying can’t be good for the baby. Stop it. Right now.”

“You don’t understand,” Antara was still gloomy.

Mrinal turned serious, “Then tell me. What is worrying you?”

“I got my pregnancy report… And then I lost Mahi… Because of my own carelessness… How does that sound?” she finally looked up at him.

Mrinal paused for a moment before replying, “That sounds like a horrible, horrible coincidence. But that still doesn’t sound like your fault to me. It doesn’t Antara. You are the best mother in the world. Pull yourself together. You can’t do this to yourself, to me, to Mahi, to our baby! That won’t do at all. You are trying to make up for a mistake you never made. You are hurting everyone with this. Mahi doesn’t like this mother of hers, who is smothering her out of fear. I want her mother to be a role-model for her. Not someone who is afraid of facing the world; who will destroy, with her own hands, a career she has so painstakingly built, because of a madwoman. She needs her mother back. And I need my Antara back. Antara, who had pulled me out from the depths of rejection and betrayal. Please Antara. Don’t do this. Not to yourself. Not to us.”

He pulled her in his arms and she let him. She cried some more, but was better after that.

“Give me a minute,” Mrinal pulled away from her and went out. Antara waited wondering what he was up to.

She saw him coming back with Mahi. He whispered something in the child’s ear and let her go. She ran to Antara and jumped in her lap. “Mahi wants a little brother or sister,” she said. A smile slowly broke on Antara’s face and it soon turned to a grin.

Mrinal also came to them and took his seat beside Antara. He put his arms around her again and smiled. “We will make a perfect family,” he whispered in Antara’s ear.

“Okay,” Antara said to her daughter, “We will bring one for Mahi next year.”

“Can I go and play?”

“Yes. And tell Shyama Auntie that she should give you milk in ten minutes.”

“Okay Mamma,” Mahi slipped out of Antara’s lap and ran outside as Mrinal and Antara watched fondly.

– The End –

“Mrinal. Mrinal. Where are you?” Antara was frantic on phone.

“At the university. What happened?”

“Mrinal. Mahi…”

“What happened to Mahi?”

Antara barely managed to make herself intelligible, “Mahi is missing.”

“What? Where are you?”

“At Phoenix mall. Mahi… She was here… Just…”

“Talk to the security. Tell them to make announcements and look for her. I am leaving for Phoenix mall right now… Stay calm…”

But how could she stay calm? Where was her baby? How scared she must be? How did she just disappear? Antara managed to talk to the head of security at the mall and a frantic search started. They checked out every nook and corner of the mall. Shops, play area, restaurants, food court, bathrooms… Multiple announcements were made asking people to look out for a two and a half-year old girl, wearing a pale-blue frock, matching hairband and shoes. By the time Mrinal arrived, it was clear that police will need to be called in. It was probably a deliberate kidnapping and not just the child wandering off.

“How can that…” Antara was dying with worry and guilt. “She was there… Just a minute back she was there…”

“Where did it happen?” Mrinal asked, himself sick with worry, but trying to keep a cool head.

“We came out of that grocery store and went to the baggage counter to pick up the stored bags… She was holding my dupatta. And…. Then the moment I looked back after picking up the bags, she was not there…” Antara broke into pitiful sobs. “Where… is… she…” she kept asking through her sobs.

Police came and started with watching the CCTV recording that covered the baggage counter. At around the time mentioned by Antara, they could see her and Mahi coming to the counter. Then as Antara waited for the bags, they saw Mahi looking at someone, who could not be seen on camera. She hesitated, but then moved away from Antara.  Then the camera lost her.

Antara looked on anxiously as the police officers tried to get more information. “Any enemies? Anybody who would like to harm either of you?”

Mrinal shook his head. On the verge of a breakdown, he was no longer talking. Then he looked at Antara. Antara also shook her head.

Some officers started talking to other visitors in the mall, while couple of them decided to start looking at the CCTV footage of all the exits after Mahi was last seen with Antara.

“I will also see those,” Antara said.

“Ma’am. There are multiple exits. Two of us will look at the two different footages in parallel. And it will take a lot of time.”

“I will do it. I will sit with one of you. I will recognize her better.”

For several hours Antara sat with one of the officers. She would sometimes be called by the other to see if someone they had spotted was Mahi. Mrinal meanwhile accompanied the other set of officers in canvassing the mall and nearby areas.

The officers viewing the CCTV footage were on a break when Mrinal came back, looking dejected and forlorn. Antara had not abandoned her station though. She was going through the footages watched by the other officer, whom she had not accompanied earlier.

“That’s her!” she shouted and Mrinal rushed to her. “Mrinal. That’s her. In different clothes.” The quality of CCTV footage was bad. But Mrinal peered in and concurred with Antara.

“You are right,” he said cautiously, almost willing himself to not get too hopeful lest the hopes be crushed.

“The officer didn’t realize because she changed her clothes…” Their attention shifted to the woman on whose shoulders Mahi was asleep. “It’s a woman. It’s a kidnapping. Who is she?” The woman was looking down and the angle of the camera was such that her face was obscured by her hair and Mahi slung over on her shoulder.

Mrinal frowned. Antara looked at him. Was he able to place her… “What?” she asked.

“It’s weird… But she… she reminds me of… Raksha. The hairstyle… And height…”

Antara looked back at the paused footage. The hairstyle and the woman’s height was reminding her of someone else… But why… And a thought struck her. “I need to see a photo of Raksha ji.”

“They would be in the store-room probably…” Mrinal replied. He was focused on the image on screen. If only he could see the woman from another angle!

“Something online? Somewhere?”

Mrinal handed her his phone. “Check my flickr account. Probably in some old private albums.”

Antara grabbed it and started browsing through the albums. The officers had come in meanwhile. Mrinal showed them the image and told them about his suspicion of it being Raksha, his first wife.

“Your first wife?”

Mrinal explained, as calmly as he could, their history.

“You are talking about her real mother?” one of the officers asked looking incredulous.

“Her biological mother. Real mothers don’t do what she did.”

“Her full name?”

“She would go by Raksha Malhotra,” Mrinal said, “Or Raksha Agarwal. Or…” he took a deep breath as he took the name of her lover, “Raksha Singhania.”

“It’s her!” Antara cried.

“Who?” Mrinal and the officers asked in chorus.

Antara rubbed her forehead trying to get her thoughts together. Then she explained, “She came to my office, consulted me using a false name. What was the name… Yes… Priya… Priyal Malhotra – that was the name she had told me.”

“Oh God!” It was premeditated. That well-planned! Mrinal couldn’t believe it. He had come to terms with her betrayal and insensitivity. But now she had turned into a criminal too? Abducting the daughter who she had mercilessly abandoned as an infant? “I should talk to her parents…” he mumbled and made to dial the number. He hadn’t kept in touch, but knew that they were still in the city.

“Wait Mr. Agarwal. Are you sure they are not involved? It would be better if we did it our way,” the senior officer interrupted him.

He looked incredulous at the idea. “They can’t be… But… now I don’t believe anyone. Please note down their number and address.”

“And I think you should go home now. Your being out won’t help. As soon as we find something, we will call you.”

—

“I don’t know how to apologize to you, Mrinal,” Antara said while they were driving home, “When I will never be able to forgive myself.” And with that despite the hope they had about Raksha’s lead, she broke down.

Mrinal stopped the car and looked at her for a moment. She had been berating herself so hard that he hadn’t said anything unkind to her. But he realized that he had not been particularly reassuring either. They both were worried and sad, but she was carrying the additional burden of guilt!

“Antara. It wasn’t your fault.”

“It was my fault. It was my fault. If I hadn’t been careless…”

“It wasn’t your fault, Antara,” he repeated and pulled her towards himself across the gearbox. “Calm down. It will be all right. She would be all right… We will find her. Raksha can’t just disappear…”

And then he started crying himself.  But they got hold of themselves after a while and drove back home.

—

To be continued

“No,” he turned serious, “I am damn serious. I love you, Antara. Don’t ever be a thickhead about it again.”

Then he lied back on the bed and pulled her closer to him.

“Just a minute,” she remembered something, reached out for the drawer of the side table, took out an envelope and handed it to him.

“What is it?”

“Parikshit had sent this on our one-month anniversary.”

Mrinal opened the envelope. Inside it was a coupon for one night at the presidential suite of a five-star hotel in the city. Amongst the amenities included in the package, there was baby-sitting service as well.

“It is still valid,” Antara explained even as her face turned crimson, “Next week is our six-month-anniversary. So, I thought…. If you have time that is…” She stopped as she noticed him looking guilty and perplexed. “What… what happened?” she stammered. Did she do something wrong?

“I… just realized that… Antara. You helped me with all my social obligations and issues. It couldn’t have been so easy on me, if you hadn’t cooperated… Not just cooperated but actively worked to socialize with all my friends and make it all comfortable for me. I never asked about you… What did you, for example, tell your cousin about this gift all these days?”

“Why would I tell him anything, Mrinal ji? He is my younger brother. I mean… he is not going to ask me about…” she paused, but Mrinal stayed silent. “Let’s just put this back if it disturbs you so much,” she added, slightly disappointed.

“No! Oh God… I’m just… I’m so at loss about so many things right now. Antara. All I want to say is that if there are things I haven’t asked you about, if there are things that have been difficult because of me, you can tell me now.”

“Mrinal ji. The only person I had to lie to was your mother. She kept asking me, every weekend, when she called me or I did, and I kept telling her that everything was fine. She insisted that I send a photograph of the three of us together. You, me and Mahi. I…”

“What?”

“I edited one and sent it,” she gulped nervously as she said that. But Mrinal did not seem bothered about that at all.

“What about your family?”

“The only one who genuinely takes interest in my life is Parikshit. And he is younger to me. He can’t ask much even if he wants to.”

“What about others?”

Antara replied in slow, deliberate and low voice, “I am an orphan, Mrinal ji. Luckier than many others that Chachaji and Chachiji thought they were sufficiently well off and did not think that I was a financial burden. But willingness to spend money isn’t the same thing as caring.”

Mrinal looked sad. He kept the coupon on the side table and held her. “And then you got married to me? Someone who didn’t care either?”

“I had my priorities and I took my chances.”

“What were those?”

“Over time – I had learned to live without love. It was not that difficult. And then Parikshit was there. His genuine attachment to me compensated for many other things, I believe. What I could not come to terms with was not being treated with dignity. Like I told you earlier today, whatever I had known about you, I had hoped that you would grant me that. A basic dignity. And you did! You weren’t sure about this marriage and you honestly told me on our wedding night that we didn’t know each other and implicitly admitted the limitations it introduced. Someone else could still have used me, even without the acceptance or the emotional connect. Most men I know wouldn’t have bothered about these things, Mrinal ji. You did. And do you really want me to repeat all the praise I have already heaped on you?”

“You have seen good in everything that could be bad about me, Antara. Today I promise that I will do whatever it takes to make you happy in future. Shall I keep this?” he pointed towards the coupon, “I will get the reservations done.”

Antara nodded with moist eyes. Then she said, “I had learned to live without love. But that doesn’t mean that I am not supremely happy to get it.”

“Then you should forget about how to live without love.  Till I am alive, you won’t live without it, Antara. I promise.”

—

2 years later

“So, tell me Priya. What brings you here?” Antara made her new client comfortable and started the conversation. Her practice had grown in last two years. She had rented an office and no longer worked from home. “All kinds of people come to the office now,” she had explained to Mrinal, “I don’t like the idea of them coming home.” She had also hired a full-time assistant to manage her appointments and also to manage office.

“I am not happy. In my marriage.”

“What makes you unhappy?”

“He is selfish, self-centered.”

Antara sighed inwardly. Ever since her client profile had expanded to include adults, unhappy-with-marriage type were all too common. Some had genuine issues, but for most others, Antara was surprised at how naïve people could get. Why was it so difficult for them to understand that two different people cannot always think or feel the same way. Some differences were inevitable and everyone had to live with them. The only time she and Mrinal had not fought was in the first six months of their marriage; when they did not have any relationship!!  Since then every little thing had given them the reason to fight at one point of time or the other. Mrinal spending too much time in the bathroom, Antara getting late with her clients, one of them scolding Mahi and the other finding it unreasonable, or even one of them buying something for Mahi and the other thinking that it would spoil her! The best part of the fights was the make-up though. Antara effortfully stopped herself from blushing and brought her thoughts back to her client.

“How so?”

“In many ways.”

“Tell me about it. Some example…”

“He doesn’t want me to talk about my past. But I can’t just… That past is a part of me. I can’t just cast it aside.”

“Is it something unpleasant?”

“Well… Nothing he doesn’t know about. This is my second marriage.”

“Hmm… Why did the first marriage end?”

“It wasn’t working out…”

Antara had such a natural urge to raise her eyebrows. She was unhappy in her first marriage too! And ended it because of that? ‘Be professional,’ she told herself as she often did in such moments, ‘Don’t be judgemental.’

She probed her, tried to make her think objectively about her life and people – what had been her role in both her relationships? Could she have done something to make it better? She wasn’t particularly hopeful about her though. ‘Lacks empathy,’ she wrote in her notes. Not something she would tell her. But she needed a reference for herself; it helped in subsequent sessions.

Priya was her last client before lunch. So, they came out together. Mahi, now a two and a half year old toddler was busy in her baby talks with Antara’s assistant. Shyama must have brought her back from the play school. Antara brightened up on seeing her.

“Arre! Look who is here,” she went to the child and picked her up in her arms. “Come here, come here. Come to Mamma. What did Mahi do in school today?”

“Played in garden,” Mahi responded and then giggled for some reason. She hid her face in Antara’s shoulders. Antara realized that she had noticed a stranger.

“This is my daughter, Mahi,” she introduced her to Priya. “Mahi. Say hello to Priya Auntie!” The child kept giggling and refused to look up. “Silly girl. Is Mahi a silly girl? Or is she a smart girl? Come on now… say hello.”

Even as she was talking to her daughter, Antara did not miss the strange expressions on Priya’s face. She looked overwhelmed and uneasy.

“Hello,” Mahi quickly looked up and then went back to hiding her face.

“She is being such a drama queen,” Antara tried to sound apologetic, but her fondness for Mahi was obvious and she was almost feeling proud at her antics.

“Lovely child,” Priya said, and ran her hands over Mahi’s hair once. Antara noticed that her hands were trembling. What was the matter? She had said that she didn’t have any children. Such emotional reaction to a child pointed to some complication. Was there a history of miscarriage or abortion, Antara wondered. She would have to find out next time.

“Mahi hungry…” They heard the child mumble.

“Hungry? Let’s go and eat then. What will you eat for lunch?” Antara asked as Priya silently waved her ‘bye’ and started leaving.

“Dairy Milk.”

“Dairy Milk, indeed. Listen to our princess. Dairy Milk is not food, Sweetie. We will have roti, and rice and dal.”

“Dairy Milk,” Mahi repeated.

“Not now, Mahi.”

—

To be continued

Antara looked at the clock and noticed the time. “Oh! It’s eight already. I need to be online…”

“To talk to your friend?” Mrinal asked. He wanted her to stay with him. He expected that. This was too important a time in their lives for her to go away to talk to her friend, even though it was now clear that the friend was not his rival!

“Friend? That was… Didn’t I tell you? It was just an alibi. This is when I talk to my… clients? The students…”

“Right!” Mrinal shook his head wondering what all had he misread, “I should have thought of that.”

“I’m sorry. But this is an appointment. I must…” Antara explained sensing his desire. She also shared it! She would have to restructure her day. Even though she was no longer doing it under wraps, she hadn’t shifted these sessions with her earlier clients to the working hours. She would have to do that.

“Yes. Of course. Don’t worry. I will still be here,” a fond smile broke on his lips.

“Mahi needs food,” she told him.

“I’ll manage. You go ahead.”

—

They finished their dinner, put Mahi to bed and then came out on the verandah. They still had a lot to talk about. They sat down on the floor, side by side, sprawled against a wall and looking out at the dark sky. It was a moonless night. Mrinal put his arm around Antara. She shivered, but stayed put.

“So, I think I need to thank this stalker of yours. If not for him, we’d never have talked.”

But she looked worried, “It isn’t funny, Mrinal ji. He is completely disillusioned. He just manages to fit reality in his illusions. Despite my rejection today, he would probably have concluded that I pretended to not recognize him, or not like him, because I was scared of you; or something like that. I know what his problem is. It is called erotomania. Believing that someone is in love with you. But who is going to take him to a psychologist?”

“Antara. Don’t worry,” he looked her in the eyes, “If he creates any troubles, I will do whatever it takes to get rid of him. Police, security, hiring goons, whatsoever.” Antara noticed how self-confident he was as he said that. The confidence that had been snatched away from him by Raksha’s betrayal. His life, again, had a purpose. And she? She had a confidant for the first time in her life. And she had her love!

They stayed silent for a while; then Antara broke it. “Mrinal ji. I just want to apologize. I hurt you today by mentioning her again and again. It was mean of me…”

He turned to her and replied, “You can hurt me as much as you want. I deserve all the punishment for ignoring you for so long. What you shouldn’t do is compare yourself to her.”

Antara gulped. She couldn’t measure up to Raksha, then!

“She didn’t think twice before abandoning her new-born baby,” he continued, “And you didn’t think twice before accepting someone else’s baby right from your wedding night. She left me when I loved her. You accepted me when I was a jilted lover, broken to the core, in love with someone else, with all my past and baggage. There is no comparison. Jealous of her? You? Doesn’t make sense, Antara.”

“Can I ask then,” Antara blinked back her tears as she spoke, “Why did you never tell me how you felt about me?”

“I don’t know. Things didn’t happen overnight, did they? Initially, I was too absorbed in my miseries. I couldn’t even figure out what this marriage meant to me, to you. And then when I discovered you as a person, when I started respecting you so much… It was just difficult to believe that life can still be good to me. Somewhere I was convinced that it was a mirage, and if I tried to reach out, it would fall apart. ”

“Can you be happy with me?” she asked in a quivering voice.

He gathered her in his arms and kissed her forehead. “What do you think?” his voice was heavy.

“Say it,” she insisted.

“I will show you,” he said as he put one of his hands at the back of her head for safety, and lowered her on the bare floor.

“Mrinal ji,” she protested as he kissed her face all over.

“Am I being hasty?” he asked patiently even as his voice was thick with arousal.

“Someone might come here,” she was merely uncomfortable about the place.

Nobody would have. All the house helps were already in their respective room for the night and those rooms were not attached to the main house. Raksha wouldn’t have minded either way. “I’d do what I want. If someone has a problem, they should look the other way,” she would have said. Didn’t he love her attitude? But Antara wasn’t Raksha. And it was a good thing. He wouldn’t try to mould her into Raksha-sans-the-irresponsibility. He would love her for what she was. For being a rock-solid support for him; and for her shyness. He already did.

“Let’s get a room, then,” he said and helped her get up.

Mahi was fast asleep in her crib. He closed the door and pressed her against it. As if he did not have the patience to go to the bed. She did not offer any resistance as he kissed and caressed her body and had a tough time suppressing her moans.

“I don’t know how I have stopped myself all these days,” he whispered in her ears, “You can’t possibly have an idea just how beautiful you are.”

This unabashed approval touched something deep in her and tears started flowing down her cheeks as she clutched him and hugged him.

“What happened?” he asked concerned.

“Nothing bad,” she replied smiling through her tears.

“That’s good,” he replied, as he finally led her to the bed. He was afraid that he might get too rough and hurt her against the door. Bed was safer!

She thought it was a miracle that Mahi hadn’t woken up by the time they were finished. They had made a lot of noise despite trying their best to suppress it.

Mrinal took some time to catch his breath and then propped himself up on his arms to look at her directly. She blushed heavily. “What happened?” she asked.

He ran his palms against her cheeks and replied, “I ignored you initially. And even when I could no longer ignore you, I kept away. I didn’t give you what you deserved, Antara. I’m sorry for that. And if it is any consolation, I have hurt myself in the process too. It has been a punishment for me too.”

“Mrinal ji. It is true that I am happier today than I have ever remember being in my life. But in last six months, you have always given me more than I had expected. I was afraid you wouldn’t trust me with Mahi. You did. I wasn’t sure you would share your feelings with me. You did — when you honestly shared with me your dilemma of how to explain your situation to people in your social circle. I hadn’t thought you would take my advice seriously. You did. I hadn’t thought that you would willingly introduce me to all those people. You did. And I had absolutely not thought that you would take my career so seriously. Nobody had. But you did that too. I have been a thickhead too. I took it all to be your kindness. Never thought that it could be…” her voice trailed. Should she use the word? He hadn’t.

He waited for a moment to see if she would continue. “Love?” he completed the sentence for her with a question, when she didn’t.

She just smiled in reply. He smiled back. “Yes. That is convenient for me,” he bent down and kissed her on forehead, “Because I have been in love with you since… well… I don’t know when it happened. But you were the thickhead to not have realized it. Absolutely! I haven’t been an idiot. Not at all.”

“Are you making fun of me?”

—

To be continued

Antara thought for a moment. She recalled that he had just acknowledged that she had been of use to him. “I don’t know what I would have done without you,” he had said. This emboldened her. She went close to him and held his hands. The gesture surprised him. She looked down at their hands as she spoke. “It has been over five years, but I haven’t forgotten that incident. I never will. It was my usual route while coming back from the college. Pretty close to home, but I was still terrified near that street. A group of boys was ever-present there, and I used to be so scared of them. That day I felt like they would not just stop at eve-teasing from far, but would actually molest me. I ran as fast as I could and ran into someone… He was my neighbor. At least his parents were. He did not know that. He didn’t know me either. He didn’t stay at home much; had always stayed away for studies or job. And his mother constantly complained about how disconnected he was from the family and how disinterested in the society around him. I mumbled an apology and he asked if I was all right. I looked back at the boys and he understood. He smiled. It was a condescending smile, but I didn’t mind that because of what he told me next. He told me that those were just confused kids, not some hard-core criminals. What they needed was someone to give them a tight slap. By getting scared and running away I was making them feel the power they didn’t have. And that more often than not, the source of fear is inside us, not outside. But despite the preaching, he did walk by my side for a while and only after I was safely away from the street did he go back. The next day I did precisely what he had told me. I asked one of them to come with me. And as soon as he came closer, I gave him a tight slap. I was never bothered by them again.”

She looked up to see astonishment in Mrinal’s face. She smiled weakly at him. “If you remember the incident, yes, that girl was me. If you don’t… Well that girl was still me. I know it sounds corny, but that was a defining moment for me. There was a lot more that I stopped fearing. Like Chachiji and her admonitions. I wasn’t exactly declaring independence there. It was more difficult than just slapping a teenager. But even the idea of lying to her to do the counselling course… Or running a service online…”

“That sounds like a confident, brave man you had run into. I am not that man. Not any longer.”

“You still are that caring and that understanding man. And you know how to love, whosoever you love. That is all that matters to me. Is it so difficult to believe?”

“It was much easier for me to believe that you had someone else – more deserving – in your life. It was much was easier for me to believe that letter…”

“Letter? Is that how… You read his letters?” she looked surprised and let go of his hands.

“I don’t want to imagine how that sounds. But when I felt that you were hiding something, and were not willing to discuss it with me, and when I found that letter in the bathroom cabinet, I could not stop myself. I am sorry…”

She sighed, “If you have read any of his letters I can’t blame you for believing him. His delusions are complete and coherent. Trust me, Mrinal ji, I didn’t even know him…”

“You don’t need to explain.”

She nodded and looked disappointed.

He understood the look. “But you also need to talk, don’t you?”

“I have been terrified. It has been over a year since he started stalking… I had to close my facebook account, change my e-mail id, phone number… Nothing worked…” her voice quivered as her eyes moistened.

“You never told anyone at home?”

“Chachiji would not have believed that I was a victim. She would have blamed me for doing things to attract attention from boys. Especially with those stories of his… You also believed them…”

“Antara. I am sorry that I never inspired enough confidence in you to share your problems with me. But trust me. I would have believed you if you had told me. It’s just that I saw the letter first. And I was so… insecure… It was easy for me to believe that you had been pressurized by your family for this marriage and that you weren’t given a choice.”

“I had a choice, if you must know.”

He looked at her questioningly.

“I had a choice,” she continued, “Of marrying a man, who didn’t have a past so-to-say, not like you. No infants to take care of. But whom I knew a bit too well. He wanted a wife because that is what everyone did. Get a good-looking wife at home — decked up in expensive clothes and jewelry with the family money — who he could show off to his friends, and who would keep his kitchen and bed warm. One who wouldn’t question why he was a womanizer and a drunkard, while pretending to be this obedient, samskaari son at home. The other option was marrying a man I admired. From that incident and from all the complaints his mother heaped on him. I knew that I may never be able to win his love. But I did think I would have a dignified life with him. And till now… I haven’t been proven wrong.

“Antara!”

“I am talking too much today… But none of this means that you have any obligation towards me…”

“Could you be… happy with me, Antara?” His anticipation and anxiety were impossible to miss, as he cautiously asked that.

“Jealous and bitter as I sometimes feel about her… it still doesn’t stop me from wanting to be here, with you.”

“Jealous and bitter? You? Are you even capable of such lowly emotions?” she saw him smiling through his tears.

“I am a mere mortal.”

“Mere mortal with infinite ability to keep her emotions under lid? You never talked to me, Antara. Never told me any of this.” He moved closer and held her by arms.

A complaint would never have been sounded so much like music to anyone’s ears earlier. “I had married a man whom I admired. But he was also the one who had never noticed me even as his neighbour. And the one who was in love with someone else. And broken as a jilted lover. It didn’t look like that he needed me even for the purported purpose of this marriage — looking after his daughter. I had to learn even the diaper-changing from him. What could I have said? Silence was awkward, but proclamation of love wasn’t exactly going to be… You were not the only one who was insecure. And yet, despite knowing what I had chosen, I couldn’t help hoping… That someday… you will notice me…” she confessed.

His hands moved up her arms, to her shoulders and neck, until they finally cupped her face. She shivered and closed her eyes. He bent down and pressed his lips against hers. She didn’t resist as he hungrily plundered her mouth. Suddenly they heard Mahi cry and withdrew. Mrinal looked perplexed, while Antara chuckled at the situation. Mrinal also smiled after her and together they walked towards the bed. Mahi was trying to reach a toy hanging from the baby gym, which had somehow been tangled up and had gone beyond her reach. Antara untangled it, and the baby was happy to be playing with it again.

—

To be continued

Mrinal felt unsure of the entire idea, when he met Shashank. He was a short, stocky man, who looked anxious and fidgety. He would look around sheepishly as if seeking approval from people around him. Mrinal just couldn’t think of him as a match for the calm, dignified and self-composed Antara. But he shouldn’t go by the external appearances. How he looked could convey nothing about what he was like as a person. His anxiety might just be a result of unusual circumstances. You didn’t have a meeting with your lover’s spouse every day, as Antara would have put it.

—

“Hi!” Antara looked up from the magazine she was reading, when Mrinal reached home with Shashank. But she showed no signs of recognizing Shashank.  She waited for Mrinal to introduce them. Was she capable of so much deception?

Mrinal looked at Shashank, who cleared his throat and smiled at Antara. “Antara. It has been so long…”

Antara frowned, but tried to smile politely, “I… I’m sorry. But do we know each other?”

“There is no need to pretend any longer, Antara. He knows… and understands…” Shashank took a step towards her and she recoiled.

“What.. what’s going on, Mrinal ji?” she addressed him, “Who is he?”

Mrinal was alarmed now. He came closer so that he could come between Shashank and Antara if needed. “You don’t know him? Shashank?”

Her eyes widened in horror and she looked anxiously from Mrinal to Shashank and back. “How did you… What did he tell you… Oh God!” She sounded miserable; but then her voice turned stern and she shouted at Shashank, “Leave. Now!”

“Antara. Why are you doing this? This is the time to set everything all right…” Shashank moved further towards her. But Mrinal came in between.

“Call the security. Make him leave right away,” she addressed Mrinal this time, still sounding mad.

“Let’s go,” Mrinal took Shashank away himself. He wasn’t physically strong. Mrinal did not feel any threat on that count.

“She is just shy and nervous,” Shashank tried to reason with Mrinal on his way out, “Let me talk to her alone.”

“Later!” Mrinal replied, “You should leave now.”

“I will wait outside.”

“Don’t do anything like that. Leave now.”

“I’m not leaving.”

“Don’t make me call the security,” Mrinal glared at him and he cowered.

—

Antara was pacing up and down the hall when Mrinal returned. She was furious. Mrinal was already confused to the core. When she came charging at him and started hitting him on the chest, he could do nothing but stand motionless. It wasn’t hurting him physically. In fact, in a strange way, this was the most intimate contact they had ever had.

“Do you have any idea what you have done? You have brought a disillusioned stalker home,” she cried.

“Antara. I…”

“How could you do this? You have a baby at home. Did you think of her safety before bringing a stranger home like that? Did you think of my safety? Your own?” she had stepped away from him now, but her anger showed no signs of subsiding.

Mrinal just stared agape. He had pictured lovers reuniting at the end of this evening. This was going totally astray.

“I want a safe home for myself, for my family. I don’t care what your free-spirited ex-wife would have thought….” She suddenly fell silent, realizing how mean and inappropriate her words became with the mention of Raksha. They were standing in the hall. Anybody, Shayama, the cook or other house help could have come in. It was just a lucky coincidence that none of them were in the house right now.

But Shyama did come back just then with Mahi. She had taken her out as was their regular routine. But Mahi had started crying. “I think it’s the teething troubles, Didi,” Shyama started explaining as she brought Mahi to Antara, but she hesitated when she noticed the state she was in. Something was definitely the matter the way Mrinal and Antara were standing and looking at each other. Shayama hesitated, “But don’t worry. I will take care of her…”

“No,” Antara replied. Although she regretted her outburst, she was still very angry with Mrinal, “Let me take her. At least she trusts me, even without the power of understanding.”

Without sparing even a glance at Mrinal, she walked to the bedroom. After Shayama left to go to her room, Mrinal ran after Antara. Antara washed one of her hands, while still carrying Mahi with the other; and then gently massaged her gums with the clean hand. It soothed the baby’s gums. She looked around for a teether. Mrinal fetched one and brought it to her. He looked like a young child trying to please an angry parent. After Mahi calmed down, Antara laid her down on her baby gym. Soon, she got busy with the toys hanging around her. Antara left her to play, and sat down on a chair. All this time, she did not acknowledge Mrinal’s presence in the room.

“I messed up, didn’t I?” Mrinal finally broke the silence. He was standing at some distance against a wall.

“I didn’t even know him by face. Whatever you suspected, couldn’t you have asked me first?”

“Antara… I…” he was at a loss for explanation.

“I know that you loved her, Mrinal ji,” she spoke in a deliberately controlled and low voice, and kept her eyes downcast, “You loved Raksha ji. You probably still do. And you will probably never be able to love me. Our marriage happened in the circumstances that were not acceptable to you. Still I have to ask. In all these months that we have spent under the same roof, did I not give you any reason to put at least a little bit of trust in me?”

Mrinal stayed silent. Things had gone haywire as it is. To top that Antara was repeatedly talking about Raksha, comparing herself with her, reminding him of all he wanted to forget, things that wore him down. This wasn’t something she often did. Why now!

“Or has my presence in your life become so intolerable that you are just waiting for an honourable reason to get rid of me?”

She looked up when he still did not say anything and was shocked to see silent tears running down in cheeks.

“Oh my God!” she got up worried, “What have I done… I… I am sorry… Mrinal ji.”

“No. I am sorry. I am not supposed to break down. I am a father, a husband… a man… I am not supposed to be weak…”

“No. That’s not how it works. Everyone is allowed to be weak… When life doles out such… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have reminded you of her…”

“I don’t know what I would have done without you, Antara,” he burst forth with a completely unexpected declaration for her. “Yes. I was a broken man. I still am. You are right that I had loved her. Despite all the troubles in our married life, I had loved her. Probably marrying so early had been a mistake on my part. But that didn’t change the fact that I had loved her. For all her free-spiritedness, I hadn’t seen this coming. Not after Mahi…”

Tears continued to fall down his cheeks even as he wiped them.

“You have never talked about it, have you?” she asked in a soft, concerned voice.

He shook his head, “But why do you care, Antara? Why should you care? I had loved her and she didn’t care… Why should you?”

—

To be continued

Mrinal stood at the door after coming back from college and watched. Mahi was lying on their bed and Antara was lying beside her, propped up on her hands, softly singing a lullaby. The baby was whimpering from time to time, but she patiently patted her and finally put her to sleep.

“Hi!” he spoke and walked in. She was startled by his voice and sat up.

“You came early,” she said looking distracted.

“Yeah. Why is she sleeping now?” he asked about Mahi.

“She has been cranky today,” she said.

Mrinal noticed her picking up some paper from the side table. He didn’t think much about it. He had to give her something. “I have something for you…”

Her reaction surprised him. Her eyes grew wide. She looked scared. “A letter?” she asked, barely able to speak. She had noticed that the envelope was open.

“No. It’s just a form. What happened?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all.” It wasn’t difficult to see through her lie, when she said, “I think there is something in my eyes. I will go to the bathroom.” The only thing in her eyes were tears. What was up? But Mahi woke up as soon as she got down from the bed. She stopped, looking perplexed.

“I am here,” Mrinal assured her and lied down beside his daughter to calm her down. Antara practically ran to the bathroom.

“What form was it?” she asked after coming back. She had washed her face and was calm now.

Mrinal looked at her, deliberating for a moment whether to ask her about what had just happened, but decided against it. “It is from the college. The student counsellor has resigned. They are looking for a replacement. I thought you could apply.”

“A job?”

“Not a full-time job. You have to be in campus twice a week. And in emergencies, if required.”

“Hmm…” she looked lost.

“Only if you want to apply.”

“Yes. Of course. I will apply,” she found her bearings back, “I just asked because you had already spent so much on converting the outer room to an office for me. It would be wasted if I took a job elsewhere.”

He smiled at her, “Invested, not spent. Trust me. Despite my innocuous profession of teaching, I have a businessman’s blood in my veins.”

She smiled nervously, “I hope it turns out to be a good investment.”

“Don’t worry,” he replied and got down to go the bathroom, “I will freshen up.”

He took a deep breath as he looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. What was she hiding? Was she troubled by something? What? Could he ask? Did he have the right to ask? He had ignored her before marriage. He had still been occupied with his own issues after marriage, in the process continuing to ignore her, even as she took up all the responsibilities of Mahi. Until the get-together, he didn’t even know about her professional qualifications. She couldn’t be blamed if she didn’t feel like sharing anything with him. What should he do? It was his duty to find out, even if he couldn’t claim the rights. So, he would ask. But he did ask. And she refused to answer.  He could insist; not give up… He suddenly remembered the paper she had hastily grabbed from the side-table when he had come in. It wasn’t there with her when she came back from the bathroom. What was it? And where was it?

He looked in the dustbin. Nothing. Could she have flushed it? He was about to give up on the idea, when he noticed the cabinet above the sink. It had the cleaning supplies and toilet papers. He opened it and fished around. He found a crumpled piece of paper.

“My dearest Antara,

I know you are mad at me. I haven’t come to you till now. But what could I do? Just finding out where you had been sent off by your family was so difficult. But don’t worry. It isn’t easy to come to you in somebody else’s home. But I will come. I know how terrible the life is for you. How unhappy you must be. I am dying to see the smile on your lips and that twinkle in your eyes that came only when you saw me. Wait for me.

I had to change my number. My new number is 99xxx09xxx. I don’t even have your Mumbai number. Please call me. Don’t be afraid of anyone. Love conquers all.

Love
Shashank”

The weather was pleasant, but Mrinal found himself sweating profusely. He stumbled and had to sit down on the closed commode seat. Was this to be his fate? Cuckolded? Every time! Why had he been so blind to everything? Why was she fine with not having any physical relationship with him? What were those burned papers in the dust bin on their wedding night about? Who did she chat with every other night? What was that letter without any name for the sender about? Why was she so alarmed when she thought he was carrying a letter for her? He felt enraged. He would demand answers from her. Why should she do this to him? He got up to go out and confront her, but stopped before opening the bathroom door. His senses kicked in. What was he expecting out of this confrontation? It wasn’t like he had married her out of love. What right did he have of questioning her? She was an orphan, dependent on her uncle and aunt. She had to lie to her aunt even to do a professional course. What control would she have had over who she was married off to? Probably they had married her to him to rid her of this lover? And she had been unable to do anything? The strange ideas of family values and honour that our society holds! If he had met her before marriage, as would be expected even in arranged marriages these days, if he had tried to talk to her and understand her, he would have known beforehand. But he didn’t do any of that. He had hardly paid her any attention even after the marriage. What right did he have to confront her, blame her? She hadn’t done anything blame-worthy. If anything she had made sacrifices for him. She had done more than her duty towards his daughter. He would be left alone and distraught, but he would have to do the right thing by her. And he would save his dignity in the process. He had missed seeing the obvious with Raksha. That he was no longer good enough for her. He wouldn’t let it become that bad with Antara. He would not let her abandon him. He would respect her decision before she has to make it. He looked at the paper and memorized the number that was there.  Then he kept it back in the cabinet, trying his best to place it exactly where it was.

Antara was alarmed to see his shirt drenched in sweat when he came out. “What happened? Are you ill, Mrinal ji?” she asked.

“Must be high blood pressure. I sometimes get that… I will be in the study. I have to grade some assignments.”

“If your blood pressure has shot up, you need to take rest. You can grade later…”

“No Antara. I am running on a deadline. If Mahi troubles you too much, you can leave her with me…”

“I’d be fine,” she replied wondering about his tone turning brittle all of a sudden. Was it because of the blood pressure? Had it suddenly shot up that badly? He had never mentioned blood pressure problems earlier…

—

Mrinal was sure of the situation. He couldn’t recall anything that would indicate otherwise. . He had forgotten how she had shivered when he had barely touched her for a moment on their wedding night. He had forgotten the moist eyes that sometimes stared at him when she thought he wasn’t aware. He had forgotten how she had been the perfect counsellor, the best friend for him, trying to bring him out of his suffering and misery of abandonment. He had forgotten her genuine motherly love and care for Mahi. He assumed that her acceptance of the baby was a matter of not having a choice. Just like this marriage.

“Hello,” Mrinal heard a sleepy drawl at the other end.

“Hello. Am I speaking to Shashank?”

“Yes. Who is it?”

“I am Mrinal Agarwal,” he hesitated before completing his introduction, “Antara’s husband.”

He waited for a reaction from the other end before explaining his purpose, but the call was disconnected immediately. He sighed and then sent an SMS. “I just want to talk to you and do the right thing. Please call back.”

He received a missed call after few minutes. He called back.

—

To be continued

“That’s fine,” she replied somberly, “I understand… I think I do… But here is the thing. If they are the people you care about, and if they are the ones who care about you, then it should just be enough to tell them what has happened and they should accept it. And if you ask them not to question you, and just support you in this hour of need, they should do that too. If they don’t, probably it is the right time you stopped caring about them. And if they do, then you know that you have these friends for life. You might have to ask for support though. You might have to tell them that you don’t need pity, sympathy or curious questions, but support. This isn’t a situation one faces every day.  So, they may not know what is expected of them unless you tell them. So, in your place, I’d do that, and then see where it goes.”

Mrinal was astonished. He had started talking to her purely on an impulse. He had almost regretted being too open. But this was changing things. He had not, even in his wildest dream, expected such well-reasoned advice coming from her – a girl who would have been brought up with the sole aim of getting married and be an obedient wife and daughter-in-law; who hadn’t been able to oppose the terrible match he was for her and had to accept mothering the child of a husband whom she didn’t know and couldn’t love; who would have spent her life trying to do what society thought was the right thing to do. If it weren’t for all that, she couldn’t have been his mother’s favourite. When did independent thoughts manage to grow their roots in her mind? Where did she learn to give a damn to people who didn’t deserve to be cared about?

His stare made her self-conscious. “I’m sorry. I, probably, went overboard. It is easier to preach…”

“No. You are right. Let me hope that I have the courage to do that. And that I am still left with some friends,” he smiled sadly.

“If it matters,” she spoke in a low, but sure voice, “I would still be here.” Then she left without meeting his eyes. She was afraid that her words won’t be valued by him and it would become obvious if she looked at him. She wanted to spare herself the hurt that would inevitably follow.

But he was smiling after her. That night he would have liked to touch her. But she was chatting with her friend in the other room and he fell asleep by the time she came back to the bedroom.

—

“So, what do you do Antara?” a guest asked. Mrinal had wanted her to meet his friends and colleagues. She had suggested a get-together at home. There was awkwardness in the exercise for sure. Mrinal had done exactly what she had suggested. He had sent an e-mail to everyone individually, worded more or less the same. He had told them about Mahi’s birth, about Raksha leaving him and about him marrying Antara. He had requested them for support, and not questions. Then after her suggestion of the get-together, he had invited them home. Most of them had obliged him by not asking questions, despite the speculations that were rife behind his back. But not asking questions, and pretending that it was all usual, did not make the situation any less tricky. The only relief was that Antara was handling it pretty well, attending to the guests and making them comfortable.

“I am a counsellor,” replied Antara surprising Mrinal. He shot her a questioning look, but she avoided it.

“Counsellor, as in a career counsellor?”

“No. As in a psychologist. I work mostly with adolescents and children.”

“Ah! Nice.”

“You are a lucky bastard,” Prof. Sinha, a senior colleague cornered Mrinal, “I know you don’t want any questions asked; so I am not going to ask you how you managed to find someone like her so quickly. But I am happy for you. She won’t let your life fall apart.”

Mrinal nodded and looked at Antara. She had brought Mahi out and was introducing her excitedly to the guests. She was every bit a proud mother. And a caring wife. And a counsellor? A competent one  at that – she had managed to counsel him correctly too.

“Thank you, Sir,” Mrinal replied to his senior deferentially, “And you are right. Come and meet Mahi. Our daughter.”

—

“There was a letter for you in the mailbox,” Mrinal went to her as soon as the guests departed and handed her a letter.

“From whom?”

“Don’t know. Doesn’t say anything on the envelope.”

She frowned, but he didn’t notice. He was too consumed by his curiosity, “You are a counsellor? Mummy never mentioned. Were you working before…”

“She didn’t know,” Antara replied sheepishly, “I am a closet counsellor.”

“Huh?”

After finishing her post-graduation in Psychology, she had taken the training to become a counsellor. “I had told Chachi ji that it was a cooking class,” she grinned, “And to showcase my improving culinary skills, I would scour up Internet for recipes and cook something once in a while.”

He chuckled. “Why did you have to lie?”

“She wouldn’t have liked me trying to do something to get a job. ‘What would people say? That we can’t take care of our orphaned niece and she has to work to provide for herself?’”

Mrinal had known that she stayed with her uncle and aunt because her parents were dead. But the word “orphaned” struck him. She was dependent on people other than her parents. She didn’t have much choice. Not in her career. Not in her marriage! “Hmm… But you said you work with…” he asked wanting to know more.

“Online.”

“How?”

It was her cousin Parikshit’s idea. He was studying in Delhi for last two years. “You have to see, Didi, how pressurized many of the students are. The joker of a counsellor they have in college in useless – only a mouthpiece of administration to save their asses. You can help them.”

That was how it started. Most of her early clients were kids in Parikshit’s college. Then the word spread around. They paid in Parikshit’s account because she didn’t even have a bank account “And every time he came home, he would dutifully carry all of that as cash for me. I told him that I didn’t need it and he should keep it for himself. But he was adamant.”

“That’s impressive, Antara. You never told me.”

She smiled at him and replied after a pause, “You never asked.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Yes. I never asked. I am sorry.”

“I wasn’t complaining,” she replied realizing that she would have sounded accusing.

“No. You weren’t. And that is the most amazing thing. Let’s get you out of the closet then. And get you a bank account too.” He was surprised to see her eyes grow moist. “What happened?” he was alarmed.

“Nothing. Thank you, for the support.”

He looked confounded for a moment. She wasn’t the one who should be saying this. But he replied with a “not a problem”. He should instead have thanked her, for all the support.

—

To be continued

Mrinal was thankful that his mother hadn’t gone overboard in the wedding arrangements. The ceremony was a simple one. But that didn’t mean things weren’t going to be difficult for him. As he entered his bedroom late in the evening, he wondered how he would handle this wedding night. He didn’t know her at all. And he wasn’t up for… Before he could make up his mind, he was already in the room and was in for a surprise. Antara, in all her wedding finery, was holding Mahi and putting her to sleep by gently rocking and patting her. She didn’t notice him coming and he stood rooted near the door in silence. It didn’t take long for the baby to drift to sleep. He went in as she settled her in the crib. She was startled to see him as she turned away from the crib. She stopped in her tracks while he approached her.

“I… I am sorry,” he stammered, “I had asked Shyama to take her…” He referred to the nanny.

“She had come. I asked her to leave Mahi with me…”

He looked at her face closely for the first time. She looked young. Too young! Was she ready for the responsibility of being a mother? That too of someone else’s child? Why had she agreed to this marriage? What was in it for her? Or did she not have a choice?

“I hope that wasn’t a problem,” she said hesitatingly, growing conscious of his stare.

He averted his eyes. “I don’t know…” he mumbled. “Look Antara,” he spoke suddenly as if he had just discovered the words and didn’t want to risk forgetting them, “This really isn’t anybody’s responsibility, except mine. I don’t know why you agreed for this marriage. But…”

“But you have married for the sake of your daughter,” she interrupted surprising him. Her eyes were downcast as she spoke, “And I will try my best to not let you down.”

“That’s not what I meant. And you don’t have to…”

“I’m fine, Mrinal ji. Don’t worry about me.”

He didn’t know what else to tell her. Standing before him was a stunningly beautiful woman. It was their wedding night. She had unconditionally accepted what would have been the most unwanted responsibility of this marriage. She would have some expectations for tonight. He should fulfill that…

He went closer and held her arm. He could feel her physical reaction to the touch. She was young, and inexperienced. Biologically it should have been a turn-on for him too. But he just couldn’t proceed. He let out a sigh and stepped back.

“We don’t know each other,” it sounded like a sad excuse to him, but he couldn’t think of anything better.

It was just a touch, but it took her a moment to catch her breath. “I’m tired. I will change and go to sleep,” she said. She opened on of her suitcases and took a night dress to the bathroom. When she came back, he had already changed and lied down on the bed. His had closed his eyes, although he was not asleep. He did not see the moist look she gave him before she lied down on the other side of the bed, as close to the edge as possible, and switched off the lights.

—

They woke up together. Mahi was crying. Mrinal rushed to the crib first. Antara switched the light on; then followed him. The room was unfamiliar for her. She would have stumbled in dark.

“She needs a diaper change,” he mumbled out the information as a courtesy to Antara and made to go towards the cupboard to take a fresh one out.

“I will do it,” Antara offered trying to fight off her sleepiness, “Where is it?”

He hesitated; then pointed towards the cupboard. She brought one from there; but then looked lost.

“Do you know how to change it?” he asked.

She shook her head and gave him an embarrassed smile. He could not help smiling back. He took the diaper from her and started changing.

“Show me. I will learn,” she said.

He nodded and gave her the space to observe. After changing the diaper, he went to the bathroom to discard the soiled one and noticed what looked like burned paper in the dust bin.

“Did you burn something in the bathroom?” he asked on coming back.

“No. Nothing. Why?”

“It looked like some burned paper was there in the dust bin.”

“I have no clue.”

“Some house help might have thrown something while cleaning up.” He looked at the clock. “We should also feed her,” he said and then wondered at his use of ‘we’. Was it so easy to accept her role as his daughter’s parent? In a matter of few hours? She didn’t even know how to change a diaper. Or how to prepare the formula for feeding her. But he saw her watching keenly as he took the warm water out of the thermos and prepared Mahi’s food. Why was she doing this? In his resignation and self-pity, all these days, he had forgotten to think about the girl he was going to get married to. Shouldn’t he have thought beforehand? Why would any girl agree to a marriage like this? That too, without knowing him, without even meeting him once?

—

But he didn’t manage to ask her. Nor did they manage to consummate their marriage. They were back in Mumbai. It would be better if Antara settled down in Mumbai while summer vacations were still on and Mrinal didn’t have to go to the university, his mother had suggested.

Mrinal had been anxious initially. He had never imagined himself in an arranged marriage; that too with a girl he had never even spoken to earlier. And definitely not right after the woman he had loved left him without a care for their daughter. Should he make a move? But night after night she pretended as if going to sleep was the most natural thing to do after Mahi fell asleep and they had their dinner. Sometimes she would excuse herself for an hour or so before bed and spend that time in a spare bedroom. To chat with her friend who was in the US. Was she sparing herself, or him? Slowly he had stopped thinking about it.

There was a challenge to be solved though. He and Raksha had an active social life. And now suddenly he was with a new wife and an infant daughter from the previous one. How was this transition to be announced and explained in his social circle? He had avoided taking calls from his friends recently and had not responded to any e-mails either.

“Everything all right?” Antara came to him and asked.

Her was jerked out of his thoughts and looked up at her vacantly. He realized that she must have noticed him lost in thoughts. “Where is Mahi?” he asked in return.

“With Shyama. Is something bothering you?”

What was he to answer? A thousand times yes? A thousand things have been bothering him?

“Why did you agree to this marriage, Antara?” he asked and saw her colour visibly.

She averted her eyes as if not wanting him to see what they expressed. When she looked back at him and he could read nothing in those large eyes.

“I agreed because I wanted to. But do you have any complaint?”

“Complaint? Not against you, Antara.”

“Against whom, then?”

“Against whom? I don’t know. Against whom should I have a complaint that I don’t know what to do about everyone around me? How do I explain to my friends, my colleagues and everyone who knows me what has become of my life? How do I explain Raksha’s absence, Mahi’s presence and you to them?”

She coloured again and Mrinal realized that he had been too voluble and had almost declared her a problem for himself.  “I’m sorry,” he spoke guiltily, “It didn’t come out right at all…”

—

To be continued

Mrinal slumped on the bed as he read the short note.

“Mrinal,

I am sorry. But it was all a big, huge mistake. I am going away. Don’t look for me. Neither of us could be happy in this.

Raksha”

Mrinal looked at the baby’s crib lying close to the bed with vacant eyes. His ten-days old daughter Mahi was sleeping peacefully there; unaware of her mother’s little note. This was too wild even for Raksha! It was her idea. Having a baby. The most beautiful creation one can think of. Mrinal wasn’t sure. But if this was what it took to turn around their rocky marriage, he had agreed. Because despite everything, he continued to love her. He had prepared himself for responsibilities. But not for this! Not for the ten-day old mother running away.

Incredulous, he read the note again. It was a joke, wasn’t it? He fished out his phone from his pocket and dialed her number. It was switched off. Panic started to kick in. He took a deep breath; then dialed her parents’ number. Her father picked up the phone.

There was a tremor in his voice as he said hello. Mrinal’s heart sank.

“Uncle. Has Raksha called?” For some reason, even after all these years for marriage, he had continued to address her parents as Uncle and Auntie.

In reply he only heard a sigh from the other side.

“What happened? Is she there?” he asked cautiously.

“No. She isn’t. She sent us an SMS an hour ago though. I am still hoping it was a joke.”

“What… did she… write?”

“That she is leaving.”

Both of them stayed silent for a while. Mahi woke up and started crying.

“She has left Mahi behind?” Mrinal’s father-in-law asked

“Yes. I will call you later,” he needed to attend to his daughter. Or call her nanny.

“How will you… We are coming over,” he offered to help him with the infant; at least for immediate needs.

“No. No Uncle,” Mrinal objected, “Don’t come now. Actually…. My parents are due in another hour…”

“Hmm…”

His mother had been strictly against his and Raksha’s relationship. Raksha wasn’t a family woman. Not to mention not from the community. Having his parents and his in-laws under the same roof was nothing other than embarrassing for Mrinal. His mother did not even attempt at being civil. His father did not want to disturb the peace of his own domestic life and chose to remain silent. In such circumstances, there was only so much forbearance he could expect from Raksha’s parents. He had, thus, been keeping them apart all these years.

“Later, Uncle,” he disconnected the call and went to the crib. Mahi needed a change of diaper. He picked a fresh one up from the table and proceeded to change the diaper as he had learned to do from online videos. But what would he feed her now? Mother’s milk was no longer an option.

—

“Gone? She is gone? What do you even mean?” Mohini Agarwal was not going to make it easy for his son. She had wanted to come earlier to take care of her daughter-in-law and newborn granddaughter.  The idea of a grandchild had finally made her warm up to even her daughter-in-law. But she was stuck with an unavoidable wedding in the extended family.

“Mummy. Please freshen up and have lunch. It should be ready.”

“That is not an answer to my question. Where is she gone? How can she just be gone?”

“She is an adult – fully capable of going whenever and wherever she wants to go. Now! You are not helping me Mummy. I need to feed my daughter.”

“She has left you and her infant daughter?”

“Yes.”

“How can…”

“Stop Mohini,” Nishant Agarwal, her husband, intervened for a change.

“Stop? How can I…”

“It is difficult enough for him. Don’t make it more difficult. Give him time…”

“Give him time? To do what? If he had listened to me in the very beginning…. Hadn’t I said that this girl would do no good… Hippie that she was…”

“Mummy. If you have to shout, please go to your room and do it. You are scaring Mahi.”

“She damn better be scared! What are you feeding the ten-day old, anyway?”

“Formula.”

Mohini stomped her feet in anger. But she did leave the room to Mrinal’s temporary relief.

—

Mrinal had been adamant initially. Raksha would have gone back to work anyway. They had hired a nanny well in advance, much before Mahi was born. And there were other household staff to help as well. He can take care of his daughter by himself. But his mother had worn him down. He had argued that he at least needed to get a divorce, which would take time. But apparently in Kolkata they could manage everything. And when Raksha did call to confirm that she was fine and had indeed left of her own volition, and that she would like a divorce with mutual consent, Mrinal was not left with much to resist with.

“What does she want to do about Mahi?” Mohini had asked.

“She didn’t mention her. I don’t think she wants the custody.”

“Who has she gone with?”

“I don’t know,” Mrinal lied. He knew. It was an ex-student of his. A Ph. D. student. He hadn’t even tried to ask her to come back. She had crossed the limits. Whatever became of his life, he wasn’t going to ask her anything.

Summer vacations were going on. He didn’t have to go to the university. He had no alibi when his mother insisted that he should go to Kolkata with them. Mahi’s nanny accompanied them. But he was in for a shock when he realized that Mohini intended him to get married immediately.

“Even with mutual consent, divorce needs one year of separation and six months after that…” he had tried to reason.

“Both of you want the divorce, right? Leave the rest to us.”

Anything was possible with connections in this country. And definitely so in the city with their ancestral roots. They knew everyone. Everyone worth knowing, at least. Divorce came within two weeks. What all had to be fudged up for that to happen?

What had been more surprising was the speed with which she had managed to find a girl of her choice. “Here. See this photo. This is Antara. Gupta ji’s niece…”

Mrinal had just relieved Mahi’s nanny and was putting her to sleep. “Later Mummy…”

“You can’t keep doing this alone all your life,” her mother’s voice was unusually soft, “You won’t regret this. She isn’t like other girls…”

“Go ahead Mummy. I don’t have much to speak for my choices any longer,” his reply was sad, rather than bitter.

His father had a heart-to-heart with him the day before. “I know your mother is being hyper. But this time, I would say go with her, son. Mahi is young right now. She will whole-heartedly accept someone else as her mother. It won’t be the same if you waited a few years. And this is the time when you need maximum support.” The effect on him, however, was not of hope or enthusiasm, but rather that of resignation.

He looked at his daughter. She had fallen asleep. He put her in the crib and rushed to the bathroom. For the first time, he let himself go. He cried and sobbed – uncontrollably. Why Raksha, why? He had married a free-spirited woman. That was what he had liked about her. There were times when he had feared for their future. Her free-spiritedness did get too much at times. Especially when it manifested in unabashed flirtation with not just her friends, but his friends and colleagues too. And at least in one case with his student.

But she couldn’t have just gone away. Not like this. Not when she had decided that she wanted a family. Not after giving birth to their baby. She couldn’t have left him helpless like this. With an infant daughter to take care of! She didn’t even ask about her. Being free-spirited was not supposed to mean being insensitive, was it? But that is what it had gotten too. “How could you do that, Raksha?” he cried out aloud, “How could you?”

He was a broken man despite his best efforts to hold himself together.

—

To be continued