Category: Mukundo-Piyali

The Genius (Part 3)

Posted Mish2 CommentsPosted in English, Mukundo-Piyali, Original

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

—

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

“What for?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“By what?”

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

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

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

“When did I say anything about being arrogant?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

To be continued

The Genius (Part 2)

Posted Mish3 CommentsPosted in English, Mukundo-Piyali, Original

She had put her early ability of reading to full use. She had run out of school books pretty quickly. She was ready to write her tenth exam two years before she actually did. But fudging her age by five years would have been a bit too much; so they had waited. Aurobindo had given her a free hand in the use of their library. In all the spare time that was left to her, she had ravaged the books there. Then she had run out of them and had started requesting specific ones from Aurobindo. The elderly book-loving gentleman – delighted to find a youngster so hungry for books – had fulfilled all her requests. Before long Mukundo was getting her photocopies of journal articles from myriad disciplines from his university library.  Her Ph. D. was in Mathematics, but she could have held forth on her own against the scholars of humanities, history, economics and other disciplines of sciences too. In school, her teacher had been scandalized and had appealed to her guardians to talk to her when in one of the mock exams, in an essay on Gandhi, she had included Ambedkar’s criticism of the Mahatma! ‘She will fail if she writes such nonsense. Please make her understand’ she had beseeched. Aurobindo had spoken to her, “You are not wrong in what you have written, dear child, but your teacher is right in saying that examiners don’t want to read this. For the purpose of examinations, stick to the textbooks, would you?”

She had nodded. Given that she had done well, Mukundo assumed that she hadn’t pulled any such stunts while writing the exams. That’s what was even more astonishing about her than her brilliant mind. That she was also wise – much beyond her years. She had an uncanny understanding of human nature which Mukundo thought was quite unlike the stereotypical mathematical genius of novels and movies. Those people seem to understand nothing beyond the narrow sphere of their talent. Piyali, on the other hand, could read people inside out.

Once there was a mean teacher at her school, who was perhaps aware that his pupil knew more than him, and had been nasty to her. Some cooked up incident of her indiscipline had reached principal’s office. The guardians had been dutifully summoned by the school. Aurobindo, who usually played that role, was out of town. So, Mukundo had accompanied Debendra Banerjee, who by himself, would have been too nervous to meet the principal of the fancy school. The principal, Mukundo was sure, understood the situation, but she was more concerned with not undermining the authority of a teacher than with anything resembling the truth. There was no other choice. Piyali had to apologize and promise not to interrupt the teacher again in the class. Mukundo was furious with himself. He felt like he had failed Piyali by not being able to convince the principal. That evening he had talked to her, “I’m sorry that I couldn’t fix it for you, Piyali. You and I know that you were right. The teacher is no good and–” But Piyali’s reply had left him speechless, “He is insecure, Mukundo Babu. It is understandable. His job depends on his authority. He doesn’t like it being challenged.” A grandma couldn’t have sounded more like a grandma!

With this rare combination of intelligence and wisdom, she was frighteningly self-sufficient. She didn’t need anybody’s help. Not in her studies, obviously. But not even in coping with school, teachers and her friends, or the lack of them. She eschewed praise. She didn’t need anybody’s approval. Sometimes nobody at home would know of her achievements in school until several days later, when they would hear of it from someone else. She didn’t want congratulations and reassurances of how great she was. She was a world unto herself. That’s why Mukundo didn’t tell her a lot of things. She seemed beyond reach. His and anybody else’s. What could he tell her apart from expressing his own awe over her awesomeness? She didn’t need that. And deep down, he was afraid of how she evaluated him. Despite her outward politeness and a tolerance of what must seem to her the brainlessness of other people, her self-sufficiency seemed to make her dismiss other people and their petty concerns. He didn’t want to risk knowing how she felt about him.

Presently, he stirred himself and tried to think about her accusation. “Why don’t you ever take me seriously, Mukundo Babu?” Unbidden, an almost forgotten memory nudged its way back into his mind. Piyali would have been around ten-years old back then. Mohima had brought the girl to him.

“Mukundo! Piyali wants your help with her lessons. Can’t you spare an hour for her now?”

Mukundo had laughed, “I didn’t know this girl has such dark sense of humor! She can help me with my lessons any day, not the other way around. And she knows that. Don’t you, little girl? What are you up to then?”

Piyali had run away at that. Mukundo had assumed she was disappointed because her plan of playing mischief with him had been preempted. Now he wondered. She wasn’t a mischievous sort of child, was she? Had she indeed needed his help? Was she disappointed because he had not taken her seriously?

Today, again, she had come to him and said that she needed his help. And he had laughed. He had laughed from habit. Almost as soon as he had done it, he had realized that she might not be asking for an academic help. But before he could right the situation, she had taken offence, shot him that question and left.

He cursed himself for being such a jerk.

“Where is Piyali?” he asked Debangi. He had run to the outhouse that the family occupied. The outhouse was owned by the Thakurs and was in the same compound at their house, but at some distance.

“I don’t know, Mukundo. I haven’t seen her in a while.”

“Where can she go?” he panicked.

“Why are you so upset? Where could she be? Most likely in your library. Where else does she ever wish to be?”

He hoped Debangi was right.

—

To be continued

The Genius (Part 1)

Posted Mish10 CommentsPosted in English, Mukundo-Piyali, Original

“Why don’t you ever take me seriously, Mukundo Babu?” She had started the question angrily, but in the tiny span of time it took her to utter all those words, only a heavy cloud of melancholy remained to envelope her mellifluous voice and large, round eyes.

It wasn’t an extraordinary question. A lot of people could have asked that to Mukundo and it would have made sense to him. But it was Piyali asking that question. Piyali? Piyali wanted him to take her seriously? What for? Why would she care for him? She was —

He was so dumbstruck that Piyali quickly lost hope of any answer from him and turned on her heels. She walked away. Not quickly, rather listlessly. But Mukundo’s feet seemed glued to the ground and it didn’t occur to him to go after her. His mouth also seemed to have forgotten how to make sounds. He didn’t even call her; didn’t ask her to stop.

It was only after he found himself staring at nothing, because Piyali was out of sight, that he came to.

Piyali had always been a precocious child. She was speaking clear and complete sentences by the time she was two. In an extraordinary feat she had started reading both Bengali and English when she was three, to the surprise – almost shock – of the adults around her. They had worried if the child was meeting someone they didn’t know, because nobody around her remembered ever trying to teach her to read. She was too young for that. Children her age had only started going to playschool, that too only if their parents were too busy. But this mousy girl was already reading fluently. Otherwise extraordinarily communicative, she had no clear answer to how she had learned to read. After keeping an eye on her for a few days, everyone had satisfied themselves that there was no dark stranger lurking around meeting her unsupervised; it was only then that they had relaxed, patted her back and congratulated themselves for knowing such a brilliant child.

The moment of realization for Mukundo had come a couple of years later. Piyali was five-years old then, Mukundo seventeen. He was practicing solving some mathematical reasoning questions for the entrance exams he had to write that year. Piyali had come to his room as she often did. She had peered into the questions he was working with.

“Answer for the first one is option D,” she had said in a quiet voice.

Mukundo had grinned. Reading was already an easy task for her. She must have seen his answer in the notebook he was writing in.

“For the second one also D.”

And then she had gone on to give answers to all the ten questions on that page. An increasingly astonished Mukundo had written down her answers after the fifth question, because he hadn’t yet solved those himself. Then he solved those and found that she was right about all of them.

“How on earth—Piyali. Have you seen the answers at the back of the book?”

“No, I haven’t,” she had replied matter-of-factly, already used to occasional accusations like those in school.

“Okay. Let’s see,” Mukundo had taken another book out of his bag. He had bought it that morning only and there was no way Piyali could have read it earlier. He opened a page at random and asked her to solve the first question on that page.

“It’s B. The answer is B.”

Mukundo didn’t have the patience to solve it himself to verify. He looked at the answer key to find that she was right once again. He made her solve twenty more questions at random. Towards the end of the exercise he would no longer be surprised when her answer turned out to be right once again.

Mukundo himself was an intelligent student, he was doing well in his studies and was even a bit vain about it. He wouldn’t miss any opportunity of mocking his cousins who struggled at school. But that teenage-vanity didn’t come in the way of him recognizing that this little friend of his was a genius. Her father Debendra Banerjee was an accomplished gardener who worked in Mukundo’s house. Her mother Debangi had worked as his nanny when he was younger, and now helped around the house, supervising other staff on Mukundo’s mother’s behalf. She was good at her job too. Neither of them, however, could be credited with passing down that extraordinary brain to Piyali.

Mukundo spoke to his mother, Mohima Thakur, “She is a prodigy, Ma. Trust me, this girl is super bright. She could crack this paper right now. Most of my classmates struggle with those questions. I saw her reading Priyendra’s older books today.” Priyendra was Piyali’s elder brother, three-years her senior. “What would she do in those nursery classes. Talk to her teachers. Let them allow her to skip classes.”

She did jump classes, though not fast enough for Mukundo’s estimation of her skills. Still the problem of minimum age for writing class tenth exam sprang up. One could try to get an exemption. But a workaround was deemed suitable by everyone. She was born a year before birth certificates became compulsory. So, her date of birth could easily be manipulated while registering for the exam so long as the school looked the other way. The school did, because it was pretty common for kids to register a date of birth later than their real one. A practice driven by the mindset that put a premium on government jobs, which often had a maximum age limit. If the child was technically younger, he would have more time to land such a coveted job. In Piyali’s case it was used in the other direction. She was shown to be three years older than she really was. So, she finished class tenth at the age of twelve and class twelfth at the age of fourteen. Her undergraduate education, which Mukundo’s father – Aurobindo Thakur – had sponsored, was in one of the best Science institutes of the country. It had flexible policies. She amassed enough credits to get a degree within two years and they allowed her to have it. By her real age of twenty she had a Ph. D. from the same institute. Now she was armed with multiple job offers from a number academic and research institutes and would pick up one of them in next month or so. Mukundo fervently hoped that she would choose to stay in Kolkata, but he hadn’t told her that. Just like he had never told her how much he had missed her when she was away for her higher studies and how he looked forward to her vacations that she spent in Kolkata. He had not told her a lot of things.

—

To be continued

Her Final Home (Part 16)

Posted Mish6 CommentsPosted in English, Mukundo-Piyali, Original

They met everyone in the hall, but Mukundo didn’t let Piyali stop there. “I need to talk to her,” he declared and took her to his room. He locked it from inside and pressed her against the door.

“Some ghost from the past, and you forget everything, do you?” he asked, “Do you remember this room? That bed beside which we had decided that we would get to know each other? This is where I had finally accepted before you what I felt. Does all that not matter?”

She wasn’t crying yet, but looked close to it.

“Does it not matter that you had agreed to marry me and that had made me happiest I had ever been in life?”

“Mukundo Babu!”

“And I shouldn’t even have to speak on their behalf. But how is it that a man who wanted to kill you matters, but not your parents who gave you all the love and care one possibly could and brought you up? You want to go away from everyone who loves you? What for? Bad omen? Is that what all your Science education has come to?”

Tears started rolling down her cheeks now.

“I don’t like seeing you cry, Piyali. But it seems like ever since I have revealed my feelings to you, you can do nothing but cry. Has it been a bad omen? Am I a curse–”

She put her hand on his lips to stop him from continuing.

“The only reason I cry before you is because I have started thinking that it is all right,” she said.

He removed her hand from his lips and kissed it.

“And the only reason you are in all our lives is because we love you. Don’t make it more complicated than that.”

“I’m sorry. I was out of my mind once I realized–”

“Why didn’t you come to me?”

“I was out of my mind, Mukundo Babu.”

He caressed her face and said, “I have started assuming that I have some rights over you.  Am I correct in doing so?”

She gulped hard and nodded.

“Then the next time that happens you will come to me, do you understand?”

She nodded again.

“If I let you go now, do you promise that you will meet your parents normally and not run away?”

“I have been selfish, haven’t I, Mukundo Babu?”

He planted a kiss on her forehead, “No. Only an idiot. And not for long.” He chuckled and she also smiled. “Go now,” he added and released her.

—

Mukundo sat sprawled on his bed that evening, lost in thought. What a roller-coaster ride last few weeks had been. What would he not give to have some quiet time! Not alone though, but with her by his side. A soft knock on the door brought him out of his reverie.

“Come in,” he said, his voice perked up. He was pretty sure of who would knock like that, and was not disappointed.

Piyali came in, latched the door behind her and came to sit beside him on the bed. He smiled, took her hands in his and toyed with them as he asked, “How come you have been left alone?”

“Kaki and Ma have gone to the temple.”

“They did not drag you along?”

“I said I wanted to rest and everyone is obliging me right now.”

“Is that what you wanted to achieve when you created that drama this morning?”

“Mukundo Babu!”

“Sorry! I was just joking, you know that.”

“Baba is at work, and Kaku in the library.”

Mukundo shot a quick glance at the latched door, and then looked at her. Was she knowingly letting him know that they won’t be disturbed? Her eyes were downcast.

He leaned forward, cupped her face and kissed her. A deep, long, demanding kiss which she responded to with gusto. His hands and lips then explored her neck, nape, shoulders and breasts. The position became awkward; he was no longer able to reach were he wanted. He climbed out of the bed, made her stand up, then lifted her in his arms, causing her to gasp at first, but she became comfortable the very next moment. He gazed at her expectant eyes as those met his with uncharacteristic boldness, while her arms around his neck supported her weight in his arms. Then he gently laid her down on the bed, climbed back in, and pressed his body on top of hers. He kissed her once again and asked, “Should I stop, Piyali?”

“No!” she responded without any delay.

“I love you,” he said simply, “And I want you!”

“Me too,” she hissed, but her words got lost because his hands moving up her thighs made her moan.

—

They had dressed again, so that they could quickly open the door if their parents came back. But they were lying in his bed in each other’s arms. Piyali’s fogged mind had registered that Mukundo had stopped to pull out a condom from the bedside table.

“How come you had protection ready?” she blurted and bit her lips. She hadn’t meant to really ask him, but the buzz in her head had made her tongue loose.

Mukundo was taken aback by her blunt question for a moment, then grinned and replied, “It wasn’t a leftover, Piyali. I really wasn’t sure when will I lose restrain with you. So, I was prepared.”

She blushed hard.

“Were you jealous?” he teased her.

She shook her head playfully, while a smile played on her lips.

“You were, weren’t you?” he insisted.

“No!”

“Yes!”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“Yes!”

“You were?”

“For a tiny moment, but yes.”

He playfully kissed her on the tip of her nose and said, “Don’t be. I have been in love with you for too long for you to feel jealous.”

She blushed hard and they stayed silent for a while, which Piyali broke with the news.

“Ma and Kaki are already planning engagement and wedding.”

“That’s what I had feared will happen once they got to know.”

“They are very excited. I know you wanted to take time, but–”

“Piyali! I only want to give you time.”

She snuggled up closer to him. “I don’t need time, Mukundo Babu. I only need to finish my studies.”

“Think calmly, Piyali–”

“I have!”

“Then we might as well get married tomorrow for all I care. I would very much like to have a socially sanctioned reason to fly to Delhi every weekend and whisk you away to my hotel room!”

She chuckled, “I’m afraid it isn’t happening until the winter vacation.”

“It isn’t?”

“No.”

“I can still whisk you away, can’t I?”

“Yes,” she blushed.

“I can live with that,” he said as he closed in on her for another kiss. “And in less than a year, you will be back home, won’t you?” he asked.

“I will be. At my final home,” Piyali replied.

– The End –

Her Final Home (Part 15)

Posted Mish3 CommentsPosted in English, Mukundo-Piyali, Original

To Mukundo’s dismay, even Aurbindo Thakur looked shocked for a long time. But he finally recovered and supported Mukundo, “Mukundo is right. Why do we care?”

Mohima agreed soon enough. But after that Mukundo had to fight another fight for a long time.

“She can’t know, Baba.”

“She should. It isn’t fair for everyone to know, not her.”

“Who is it not fair on? She is happy to think of them as her parents, isn’t she? Why not let that continue?”

“It’s the truth, and it will come out one day or the other.”

“Truth is also that nobody ever noticed her plight in being uprooted from her home at a young age. We assume that children don’t understand and don’t feel as strongly. But that’s not true. I know that now. She has had her share of trauma. And she could never speak to anyone about it. This will break her, Baba. I beg of all of you. She needn’t know. Please get Kaku and Kaki to understand that.”

He finally managed to bend everyone to his will. But convincing Piyali that everything was all right was more difficult. She just couldn’t believe that her mother reacted that way because she didn’t believe Mohima and Aurbindo would agree to the match. But there was no other excuse Mukundo could come up with. So, he kept repeating that until she stopped talking. He realized that she was not convinced. So, he ended up saying, “This Saturday I will not come to Delhi. I will book you a ticket. You come to Kolkata and see for yourself if everyone is happy or not.”

—

He did not feel the need to restrain himself at the airport. He embraced her tightly. When he released her, she had tears in her eyes.

“What happened?” he asked, in panic.

“Thank you, Mukundo Babu. For putting up with me.”

“What on earth does it even mean?”

“I’m sorry that I didn’t trust you that day. I didn’t need to come here to verify what you had said.”

For the first time, Mukundo felt a pang of guilt about lying to her. But he hoped that he’d be forgiven for that lie.

“Don’t be melodramatic, Piyali. I’m sure you could use a trip home. Come on. Let’s go.”

He was happy that on their way home they had a normal conversation and there was no awkwardness or tension in the air. Although once they reached, Piyali grew nervous again.

“I don’t know how to face Ma or Baba.”

“Come on. You haven’t committed a ‘crime’ for which you have to ‘face’ them! You are just home for a weekend.”

She nodded, but look unconvinced. So Mukundo went in with her and stayed until she discreetly indicated to him that she was fine.

—

“Mukundo!” Mohima screamed for him from the hall downstairs.

“What happened, Ma?”

“Come here. You must find Piyali.”

“What do you mean? Find Piyali?” As he came down the steps he noticed a distraught Debangi slumped in a sofa. Debendra was pacing, in control of his emotions, but clearly worried.

“She has taken the scooter and disappeared. We couldn’t stop her,” Debendra explained.

“Why?” A moment of silence made him realize, “You told her?”

“She just wasn’t convinced, Mukundo–”

“It’s not the time for that,” Mohima intervened, “Go find her.”

Mukundo made a run for the car keys.

—

He slowed the car down around the area he thought that spot was in. It paid off. The scooter was parked there. And unlike last time, Piyali was not hidden behind the tree. She was sitting, slumped against its trunk, her eyes glued to some distance horizon.

Mukundo approached her slowly. She heard the rustle of his steps and noticed him. Slowly, she stood up. When he came closer, Mukundo noticed that she wasn’t crying as he had expected.

“Their son died because of me, Mukundo Babu,” she spoke before he could. She didn’t seem to acknowledge that it was weird of her to be there and there was nothing natural in them having a conversation by the side of the highway, in the middle of nowhere.

“What are you talking about?”

“Ma and Baba. I am not their daughter. And they lost him—In trying to protect me!”

“Don’t be absurd, Piyali. The circumstances were dire. He was a baby who couldn’t survive it. He didn’t die because of you.”

She looked at him puzzled, then the realization dawned on her and she shook her head, “You don’t know the entire story.”

“What do you mean?”

Even though she was young, Piyali remembered something of the circumstances in which they had to leave. Politics around religion was anyway gaining ground in their area. But what made the situation worse for them was that Piyali’s biological father, a strong and rich man in the village, found out who she was. He was not pleased at all and made it his life’s purpose to make life difficult for the Banerjees. Finally, things got so bad that they had to flee.

Mukundo had difficulties thinking straight through all he was hearing. The only way he was able to keep things together was by thinking about her. She must be comforted and brought back home. She must not stay on this guilt trip. He repeated it inside his head like a mantra.

“None of it was your choice, Piyali. But let’s go home first.”

“Perhaps it was a good thing my father wanted me dead. What curse I brought on the people who saved me? They lost everything because of me. Their son, their home, their money, their land! Mukundo Babu! What luck do I bring with me?”

“Let’s go home, Piyali.”

“No, no, no no. You don’t understand. I can’t go home. I can’t go to my parents’ home. I can’t come to your home. I will only bring misfortune to you–”

“Shut up.”

“I will go back to Delhi. I will not come here ever again. Stay away, Mukundo Babu–”

Piyali looked like she wasn’t aware of where she was and what she was saying. In a strange reaction, Mukundo pulled her to himself, and pressed her lips against hers to shut her up. He thrust his tongue in her mouth and didn’t let her go until he felt that she was choking. Her body language changed. She seemed to shrink within herself, but she didn’t push him away.

“Let’s go home,” he whispered and she followed him meekly. He dragged the scooter off the road like last time and then led her to the car. After they were inside the car, he made a call to her father to let everyone know that he had found her. They were silent through the ride.

—

To be continued

Her Final Home (Part 14)

Posted Mish2 CommentsPosted in English, Mukundo-Piyali, Original

Mukundo could have called Mohima from Delhi, but the situation was bizarre. If Mohima had spoken to Debangi and got such a negative reaction from her, she would have called Mukundo. She didn’t. So Debangi couldn’t have heard from her. That made the entire thing an even bigger mystery.

“I had mentioned it to Debendra Babu,” Aurbindo turned out to be the source of leak.

“What!” Neither Mukundo, nor Mohima of them could believe that Aurbindo would have indulged in gossip. But apparently, he had been excited about the idea and didn’t think that the two men talking about it would affect anything else that was going on.

“How had he reacted?” Mohima asked.

“Mostly, he seemed like he didn’t believe it.”

“Or he didn’t want to!” Mukundo slumped in a chair, looking despondent.

“Let me talk to Debangi, Mukundo. Don’t lose heart. It might be something very simple.”

“I don’t know about that, Ma. But I can’t stand the suspense right now. I will come with you when you talk to her.”

“But–”

“I told you Ma, I can’t stand the suspense of it. Not even for the time it will take for you to talk to Kaki and come back to me.”

“Fine. Come with me.”

—

Debangi tensed up on seeing Mukundo follow Mohima. But she put up her usual smile and welcomed them. She also called her husband to join them.

“Please sit down, Didi,” she addressed Mohima, “I will bring some tea. I was about make some for ourselves.”

“Tea can wait, Debangi. I have something more urgent to discuss with you.”

Debangi would have liked to bolt, but she knew that the discussion was inevitable. She sat down. Debendra Banerjee had also joined them by then. Mohima noticed him throwing an accusatory glance at his wife.

“Debangi. I will not beat around the bush. I hope I have the right to ask why you made that call to Piyali. It scared her, and all of us. I want to know what your objection to Mukundo and Piyali’s relationship is. But more importantly, even if you had an objection, you could have told that to her or us calmly. Why that threat?”

Debangi stayed silent for a long time, her eyes glued to the floor in a manner that reminded Mukundo of Piyali. But he was restless and felt like shaking her hard. Finally, she spoke, “It will not be the right thing, Didi. And telling you why can destroy everything we have.”

“You are not worried about their age-difference? Or money?”

She shook her head.

“Debangi. I beg of you. I am a mother just like you. And in years now, I haven’t seen anything or anyone that will make Mukundo happy like Piyali does. And Piyali is happy too. Why then—Debendra Babu. You must speak, if she won’t.”

He addressed his wife, instead of Mohima, “If you are so hell bent upon making it an issue, then you can’t keep it quiet. They deserve to know.”

“I love her as much as you do,” Debangi replied, “But does that mean we can dupe people who have been our savior?”

Debendra threw his hands up in exasperation. “Then tell them, and let them decide if they care. You can’t think it’s important, and at the same time keep everyone in the dark.”

“Kaki,” Mukundo spoke this time, “Please tell us. You have no idea what state I have left Piyali in. She is confused and terrified. She doesn’t know what has hit her and nor do I. I had hoped to tell all of you in a more graceful situation, but now it is all out. In whatever haphazard way. I love her and I can’t think of any reason which will prevent me from marrying her. I don’t need to tell you this; you know that we don’t care about the money–”

“We don’t have the money, Mukundo. But our blood is no less pure than yours. Piyali, on the other hand… She is not our daughter!”

“What?” Mohima and Mukundo reacted in chorus.

“Not our biological daughter,” Debendra clarified, shooting a dagger eye at his wife, who was now in tears.

“How is that possible?” Mukundo blurted.

Debendra Banerjee took over the conversation from there and explained. Piyali’s father was a politically powerful man in Debendra’s village. But she was an illegitimate child born of a poor servant woman. The father had wanted the woman, whom he had forced into a sexual relationship, to abort the child. But the woman had lied to him and disappeared from his household in time to hide her growing pregnancy. The village midwife had helped her deliver, when the time came, but the woman in died in the process. On the same day Debangi had lost her first child soon after being born. Midwife had brought the newborn girl to her and the bereaved parents had immediately decided to adopt and raise her as their own. Taken to her biological father, she would definitely have suffered death.

Mukundo cursed under his breath, then said, “Piyali can’t know this.”

Debangi wiped her tears and spoke with difficulty, “But she will have to. After this.”

“Why?”

“Her father wasn’t even Hindu and her mother–”

“You are her mother, and Debendra Kaku is her father. I don’t care.”

Debangi shook her head, “I have always dreaded the day we will have to think about her marriage. I won’t say we wouldn’t have lied to someone else. But not to you.”

Exasperated, Mukundo looked at his mother, “Ma! Tell her that we don’t care. Why doesn’t she understand?”

Mohima gulped hard, “We should speak to your Baba, Mukundo.”

“Well, speak to him. Sure. But I am not changing my mind. You had given me leave to marry whosoever I wanted, right? Did I ever guarantee that I will bring a Hindu Brahmin daughter-in-law for you?”

“No. You didn’t.” Mohima acquiesced, but still looked confounded.

“Didi,” Debangi said, “He isn’t thinking straight. But Piyali has to live with what she is. It isn’t your responsibility to– We should perhaps have told you about this beforehand. But honestly, I had never imagined it would come to this.”

Mohima nodded.

“None of you are thinking straight,” Mukundo growled, “I will speak to Baba myself.” He turned on his heels and left.

Debendra, who had been silently observing everyone’s reactions, followed him out and spoke to him. “I would never expect anything else from you, Mukundo. And I am very happy that you think the way you do. But if your parents are even least bit uncomfortable about this, you must understand that we can’t go against them.”

Mukundo nodded. Mohima came out and they left together.

—

To be continued

Her Final Home (Part 13)

Posted Mish3 CommentsPosted in English, Mukundo-Piyali, Original

Piyali howled after she was sure he would have left the apartment. Why?  Why must her life remain incomplete all the time? Why couldn’t she have the security and completeness she had felt with Mukundo in last few weeks? What was so wrong with her that her marrying Mukundo so terrified her mother. “If you do not send him away right now,” her mother had told her on phone, “You will see me dead, I promise you.” Piyali had been shaken. At the beginning of the call, after she had gotten over the shock that her mother already knew about them, she had tried to explain to her that Mukundo and even his parents did not care that Piyali and her family was poor.

“I am not ashamed that we are poor. But there are things that you don’t understand. This can’t happen, Pihu. Are you with him right now?”

He was supposed to be at a conference. But that lie had already been exposed. She reluctantly confirmed her mother’s suspicion.

“If you do not send him away right now, you will see me dead, I promise you.”

How was she to send him away? She had no clue at first. Finally, she had succeeded, but in a rotten way!

—

Mukundo didn’t go back to his hotel. He wandered around on foot for a while. Then he located a café. It was a hot day. He went inside and ordered a cold coffee just to secure a seat there. He didn’t even touch the drink the entire time he was there. His self-pity and anger didn’t last long. Her behavior was bizarre. Even when she had avowedly hated him, she had never behaved like that. It was almost a pathetic attempt to hurt him, when it was obvious that she didn’t want to. So why did she? He twisted and turned that question in every way possible in his mind. No answer was in sight. The only thing he could think of was Alka’s unexpected appearance. Was she insecure? Angry? The Piyali he knew shouldn’t have behaved liked that even if it was true. But then he hadn’t known her too long as a lover. May be love and jealousy did something totally twisted to people. Even to someone as sorted as her. If that was the case, he had to resolve it. It would be silly on his part to let something like that fester between them. If she wanted so, he would call Alka right in front of her and announce their relationship to her. He hadn’t thought he would ever have to do something as childish for her. But if he had to, he would do that. With that determination, he left the café and walked back to her apartment.

—

Piyali was calmer now. She had panicked and done a stupid thing. She had hurt him badly in the process. Whatever it was, even if her mother’s objection was indeed something serious enough to come in between them, she should have been honest with him. She could see that clearly now. She must meet Mukundo immediately. But her flat mates were out and about now. Meeting him at her apartment won’t be so comfortable. Besides, she must not make him run around anymore. She would go to his hotel, instead of asking him to come back. She washed her face and put on some makeup again. After she was out of the house, she fished out her phone to call him. She would need to know his room number. As soon as the call connected, somebody’s phone rang nearby. It had the same ringtone as his. Puzzled she looked around. Her hearts stopped beating when she saw him picking out his phone from his pocket. Before he could see the name on his mobile, he saw her. She disconnected the phone and ran towards him. She threw herself in his arms and to her relief, he didn’t withdraw. He closed his arms around her.

“So, you have come to your senses now?”

“I am sorry. I should have talked to you,” she said.

“Just as an insurance, shall I call Alka and tell her exactly who you are. Not just my neighbor.”

She frowned. What was he talking about. She asked him that.

“Wasn’t that what your tantrum about? As soon as Alka appeared, you went rogue.”

“Oh God! No,” she cried, “You think I don’t trust you?”

“Well?”

“No wonder you think so. After how I behaved.”

Mukundo frowned now, “If it wasn’t that, what was it?” Then it hit him. Piyali was perfectly normal while being introduced to Alka. It was that phone call! “Who had called you really?”

“Ma.”

“Your Ma?”

She nodded.

“And what on earth–Let’s go inside. It’s so hot out here.”

But she told him that her flat mates were awake and it won’t be comfortable to talk. Although it was somewhat far, they decided to go to his hotel.

—

He offered her a juice from the minibar, then sat beside her on the edge of the bed. She told him how her mother had somehow found out and wouldn’t even hear of them being together. Mukundo thought over it silently for a while, then said, “She must think I am too old for you.”

“But–” Piyali knew in her heart that it wasn’t that. If that’s what her mother thought, she could easily have said that. The urgency and fear in her tone hinted at something much more problematic.

“She said a terrible thing, Mukundo Babu.” And she told him about what her mother had said that had so shaken her.

“Come on, Piyali. That’s just exaggerated emotional blackmail.”

Piyali looked at him miserably, “Ma doesn’t say things like those all the time.”

Mukundo looked at her for a long moment, then asked, “What do you want, Piyali?”

“Why do you have to ask that? You know what I want.”

“I need to hear it, again. I am, perhaps, a little shaken with your behavior this morning.”

“I am sorry,” she said miserably, “I was out of my mind after the call. But I came back to you Mukundo Babu. That’s what I want. Wherever I am, I want to come back to you.”

He caressed her cheek, “And I want you. Whatever it takes. I know you won’t be comfortable until this has been resolved. I will go back right away and find out what has happened. Okay?”

She nodded, then hugged him.

—

To be continued

Her Final Home (Part 12)

Posted Mish4 CommentsPosted in English, Mukundo-Piyali, Original

“You are not well enough. You should not be coming to the station with me,” Piyali argued. It was time for her to head back to Delhi.

“I am not driving, am I? Nor will I help with your luggage. I am well enough to sit in the back seat with you,” Mukundo was insistent.

“If Kaki argued otherwise,” she said in a lowered voice, “And you insisted, she may know. I have a feeling she already does.”

“Let me handle that. May be a day will come when I will start taking your presence in my life as granted. But right now, it still feels like a dream and I can’t miss even a moment of this.”

“You will spoil me.”

“Well, the result will be mine to bear. I don’t mind it at all.”

Mohima, however, didn’t murmur even a word of opposition and pretended that it was the most natural thing to happen. That Mukundo should drop her off at the station. Debangi expressed concern about Mukundo’s health, but Mohima brushed that aside.

—

The driver helped Piyali settle her luggage beneath the seat and left the coach. Since there was still time before the train would leave, Mukundo sat down beside her.

“I so regret that I left Kolkata,” she said.

“It’s just another year. Then you will be back. Savor it, Piyali. Some day we will get used to each other. This is the time to want and desire each other. And don’t forget that I will be there soon enough. One of these Saturdays.”

“You must wait until you are fully recovered.”

“I’m fully recovered,” he said as he took her hand in his, “I will wait only long enough to not arouse anyone’s suspicion.”

She smiled.

Neither the car, with driver’s presence, nor the crowded Howrah station had afforded them much privacy. All Mukundo could do to convey his feelings was a quick, desperate kiss on her hand.

It brought tears to her eyes.

“Since when have you started crying so much?” he teased her to distract her. But she became embarrassed.

“I am sorry,” she said, as she wiped her tears, “I don’t know what has happened to me?”

He pretended to think for a moment, then said, “Perhaps you have started feeling that it is all right to cry before me.”

She gulped hard.

Then he broke into a smile and said, “And guess what. You are right. It’s all right to cry before me. If that’s what you need.”

She heaved a sigh of relief. “You—Mukundo Babu, you had me so worried just now. That was so mean of you!”

“Sorry,” he mumbled while grinning, and caressed her cheek.

Just then her co-passenger entered the compartment and they heard the engine’s whistle. Mukundo had to leave. Neither of them managed to utter another word. On the way back, Mukundo wondered how soon could he take a Saturday break!

—

Two weeks down the line, Mukundo decided to make his first Delhi trip official. A conference again! That would allow him to stay on Sunday too. Mohima didn’t ask him anything about the conference even for formality’s sake. She merely asked, “Does Piyali need anything? If so, remember to carry it.”

“You can ask her, Ma. I will carry it,” he pretended nonchalance.

—

Piyali’s attempt to wear makeup and look mature was so obvious and comical that Mukundo stopped himself from laughing with some effort. He embraced her warmly and asked, “How have you been?”

“Not well!”

“Why?” he became concerned.

She chuckled, “All those late-night phone conversations! I am barely sleeping. Or rather sleeping in classes.”

“That’s not right,” Mukundo was not amused, “We need to be a little disciplined about it.”

“I don’t care.”

“Well, I do, Miss. Your studies must not suffer. We need to stop acting childish.”

“Okay, okay. We will see about that once you leave. What do you want to do today?”

“I want to get you a gift and take you shopping.”

“I don’t need that.”

“Well, I do. What do you want to do today?”

“I want to give you a tour of the university. Today it will be practically empty. The buildings are beautiful when not crowded.”

“All right. Let’s go.”

—

“Mukundo!” A familiar voice and figure approached them at the university, “What a surprise! What are you doing here?”

“Alka!”

She gave him a friendly hug and asked, “What’s up?”

Mukundo introduced Piyali, looking somewhat flustered, “You remember Piyali. My neighbor.” Damn! Was that the correct introduction? Should he have called her his girlfriend? Fiancée?

“Hello Ma’am.” Mukundo couldn’t judge from Piyali’s countenance if she was uncomfortable.

“Piyali? Is it? I remember you talking about her. But I don’t think I have ever properly met her? You were not in my department, were you? Physics?”

“Maths.”

“Ah! Nice to meet you.”

“She is studying here now,” Mukundo interjected, “She was giving me a tour of the university. Are you working here?”

“Just joined. Or re-joined. I was on a sabbatical last year. I was travelling.”

“Free spirited, as always.”

“Are you staying overnight? Why don’t you come home for dinner?”

Mukundo laughed nervously, then said, “I can’t this time. But I will visit again. I will call you. Give me your number.”

Alka looked surprised by his refusal.

Just then Piyali’s phone rang. She excused herself and moved away from them to take the call.

When she came back, Mukundo was alone. “Alka Ma’am has left?” she asked distractedly.

“Yes. Who was it?”

“Who was what?”

“Who was on the phone?”

“Oh! Nobody. A friend. We are doing a project together. You will go to your hotel now, won’t you?”

“I am not going to my hotel until night. We are going shopping and lunch, don’t you remember?”

“Oh, right. Yes.”

“What has happened, Piyali?”

“I think I am not feeling well. I need to sleep.”

“What happened?” he immediately felt her forehead to see if she had fever. She didn’t, but he got worried, “Should we see a doctor?”

“No!” Inexplicably her eyes flooded with tears, “I just need to sleep.”

Mukundo was baffled. “Why are you crying? Let’s take you home.” What had come upon her? Until few moments ago, she was fine.

She stopped him from getting out of the taxi at her apartment.

“You should go to the hotel, Mukundo Babu. I will be asleep anyway.”

Mukundo felt tongue-tied. Why was she suddenly pushing him away?

“Piyali,” he spoke with difficulty, “If you are unwell, I would rather sit beside you than sleep in my hotel room. I am here only for you; don’t you know that?”

She could not reply to that. Silently, they got out of the taxi and took the lift up to her apartment. She lied down on her bed and he sat down beside her.

“Won’t you tell me what is wrong, Piyali. Shouldn’t we see a doctor?”

“I will be fine. But you shouldn’t… Alka Ma’am had invited you, right? You should go and see her.”

“How can I leave you behind in bed and go see somebody else? Why are you being so daft—”

“Mukundo Babu, please! I just– I just want to be alone.”

He felt paralyzed. He could not make sense of what was happening. Why was Piyali suddenly hell bent upon hurting him? The insult was so potent, that despite all the love in his heart, he could not have stayed. He got up and slowly retreated from the room.

—

To be continued

Her Final Home (Part 11)

Posted Mish1 CommentPosted in English, Mukundo-Piyali, Original

Mukundo hadn’t allowed himself to dream earlier. Even now he wanted to restrain himself. But it was futile. He could not help imagining his life with her by his side. To sleep with her in his arms. To wake up beside her. To go to work together, if she chose to work at the university. To travel all over the world together. And at the end of the day, to come back home. Together! He yearned for her like never before. He wanted to call her, but was afraid that he would catch her at the wrong time. And then it felt like she heard him from afar. His phone rang. It was her!

He didn’t realize when he drifted off to sleep. When he woke up in the middle of the night, the phone was still connected and he thought he could hear her soft breath from the other end. Grinning, he thought of disconnecting it, but then decided to let it be. This would be closest they could come to sleeping together until he was ready to reveal to all and get married.

—

“My phone was on roaming,” she was fretting the next day, “Imagine the bill–”

“Sit down and relax. Do the Maths. How many hours was it on for?”

“Ten?”

“Event at 2 Rs. A minute, that’s 1200 Rs. Even with your scholarship you can pay that. Don’t you have more money in your account?”

She flushed, “That doesn’t mean I should be wasting it.”

“But it wasn’t wasted, Piyali. I slept so much better knowing you were at the other end.”

That made her smile, “But if you intend to keep doing that, we better be on some unlimited plan.”

“Okay, Ma’am! Can we go outside now? I am bored of my confinement.”

“Let’s go,” she offered him her hand and he took it without hesitating.

—

Mohima heard their footsteps and removed herself from the way. She had noticed the awkwardness and furtive glances when she and Debangi had gatecrashed on Mukundo and Piyali the day before. So, when she had seen Piyali coming to the main house yesterday, she had not come in the way. She had seen them from afar as they had walk out to the garden together. She noticed the repeat performance today and was sure of what was going on. She need not be pushy and nosy any longer. But she was dying to talk to someone about it. Should she speak to Debangi? But perhaps it was too soon. In the unlikely case that she was wrong, it won’t be a good idea to raise the poor woman’s hopes. God only knew what her brooding son and Debangi’s strong headed daughter would finally decide. She decided to content herself for now by telling her husband all about it. He wasn’t good enough a talker, but he will have to do for now.

—

“You know, you are yet to explain to me some of the things I don’t understand about you,” Piyali said when they reached the garden.

“I know,” he smiled, and explained matter-of-factly, “I had a girlfriend. Ruchi. We were going steady for almost two years, when one fine day, she suddenly announced that she was getting married. To a boy her parents had chosen. Didn’t she love me? She did. Would she not think about me when she was with him? She would. But she would still marry him and not me? She would. Because she didn’t have it in her heart to go against her parent’s wishes. I was heart-broken. But more than that I knew that I didn’t want to be the guy she was marrying.”

“Let me guess. That’s why you made Kaki and Kaku promise that they wouldn’t force their choice on you.”

He nodded.

“Do you miss her?” she asked sincerely.

“It is surprising how much one can get over. No, I don’t. It didn’t take even a few months for me to leave it all behind. And I don’t think she thought of me for too long either.”

“But you still didn’t marry all these years.”

“It did become difficult to take relationships seriously. Until I realized that…”

“When did that happen?”

“What?”

“When did you realize that you liked me?”

He smiled, “When I saw you with a boyfriend for the first time.”

She looked embarrassed.

“I don’t think I ever had one worthy of your rivalry. My head was so messed up.”

“It was, wasn’t it? I wanted to stay away from you, Piyali. I was afraid of my feelings. But you were increasingly behaving so weirdly, so irresponsibly, that I found myself watching you even more closely than earlier. Why were you behaving like that? I had a feeling that I was the reason.”

“I couldn’t have articulated it back then. But my head was messed because I loved you and hated you at the same time. And I couldn’t make up my mind about what I really wanted between the two. It suffocated me at times.”

“I am so sorry.”

“I am talking because we have agreed to talk. But there can’t be any more of the apology business about it. Remember we were supposed to leave it behind?”

He stopped walking and turned towards her, smiling. “Yes, we were,” he said and pulled her close for a kiss.

“What else is remaining?” he asked after the kiss.

“What?” her head was foggy from his proximity.

“What else about me you didn’t understand?”

“I can’t remember anything now,” she said honestly.

“I do. The travel.”

“Yes. Why don’t you travel now?” she managed to ask, her breath barely in control.

“Because all my friends have either moved out of the city, or have married and settled down with a few kids. They don’t have enough time to travel with me. And I can’t do it alone. I look forward to traveling again though. With you.”

She didn’t reply and rested her head on Mukundo’s chest. He put his hands around her and pulled her closer.

—

To be continued

Her Final Home (Part 10)

Posted Mish4 CommentsPosted in English, Mukundo-Piyali, Original

Mukundo felt better the next day and he proposed a short stroll in the garden. Piyali agreed readily. She has him place his hand on her shoulder so that he had support while walking. He was still very weak and slightly dizzy from the antibiotics and other strong medicines he had to take.

“Will you come back to Kolkata, Piyali?” he asked.

“I want to come back right away. I am not a free spirit. It doesn’t feel good to be uprooted from home again!”

That gave him a pause. He stopped abruptly and turned to face her. “Again!” he mumbled, looking at her as if seeing her for the first time. He continued after a pause, “Again? That’s right, isn’t it? I never thought of that. I never asked you about that. Have you ever spoken to anyone about what had happened back then? Having to leave your home behind? Forever?”

She shook her head.

“Talk to me,” he said.

“That will be one tiring monologue. Perhaps we should head back.”

“No. We should stay right here. Come with me.”

He took her to the tree at the corner of the garden.

“Help me sit down,” he said and then had her sit next to him.

She folded her knees and rested her chin on them.

“I hadn’t felt it as much when it was actually happening,” she started speaking after thinking for a long time, “The change in the mood of the neighbors we had known forever, the servants and helpers disappearing, the inability to step out of house, running out of all stored food, and finally having to leave it behind in the darkness of the night with nothing but a few bundles Baba could carry on his back. Ma was carrying my baby brother. It took several days to reach the border. Because we had to hide ourselves during the day time. We could walk only at night and it wasn’t easy. Soon we ran out of food we were carrying. My baby brother was already weak. Whatever we could find was not suitable for him. And I think Ma was too weak and sick by then to–” She suddenly looked at him, “I grieve him so much today. But back then, I think I didn’t feel much. I watched with a sense of detachment as Baba buried him in a shallow grave at night. What else could he have done? I was grateful that he or Ma were not crying. But it must have taken them all their will-power to do it, wouldn’t’ it? Why did I feel nothing then?”

“How old was he?”

“Barely a month.”

“I don’t think you had had time to get to know him, Piyali. Attachment doesn’t come by itself. When you spend time with someone, care for them, get to know them, that’s when it happens. I know something about that process. Trust me and stop berating yourself about it.”

“I hope you are right.”

“I am.”

She gave a hesitant smile.

“I was surprisingly fine when it was all happening, despite the hunger, despite exhaustion, despite humiliation. I think I didn’t understand humiliation back then. I started understanding it later. And then it hurt. It hurt badly that some people had the power to do that to us, to usurp us from our home and our fields, to deny us our grains and our roof, to drive us away from our lands. It had belonged to us for generations.”

And for the second time since he had known her, Mukundo saw her crying. He took her hand in his and let her cry for a while. Then he wiped her tears and said, “I can’t give you back what you lost there, Piyali. But this is your home. Nobody can drive you away from here, I promise you that. And – you must understand this, so listen to me carefully – it doesn’t depend on what happens between us. This is your home. You can always come back here. Nobody can take it away from you.”

It looked like she would start sobbing again, but she merely smiled through her tears. Then she said, “Let’s go inside. You are still not strong enough to spend so much time outdoors.”

She stood up and then gave him her hand to help him get up.

“Mukundo Babu!” she stopped him when he made to walk back and then threw her arms around him in a tight embrace. He reciprocated without a moment’s hesitation.

“Yes,” she said as she broke the hug.

“Excuse me?”

“I will marry you, if you want to marry me.”

The world around him stopped and his head felt dizzier than warranted by the medicines. Even in his wildest dreams he hadn’t expected it to happen so soon, or for it to happen at all.

Not hearing anything from him, Piyali looked up at him. Smile and tears came to him together. “Will you really?”

She looked away, blushing heavily, and nodded.

He pulled her back in a hug.

“But I don’t know how to tell anybody about us. Kaki, Ma, Baba! You must do that,” she said when he released her.

“I will, when the time comes. But we must not tell anyone anything right now.”

“Why not?”

“Because you must take your time, Piyali. This was too quick–”

“You don’t trust me?” the hurt in her voice, for the first time since he could recall, betrayed her youth. Beneath that insanely practical woman, there was a romantic, young girl, who wouldn’t believe that her feelings could change.

“I just want to savor it, Piyali. By myself. If everybody knows, you know how it will become all about the wedding and rituals and what not. I still want to date. I still want to get to know you, and I want you to know me, without external pressures. I still want to make a few stealth trips to Delhi.” Even though his caution, at first, was indeed motivated by the need to give her time, what he said now was not only the right thing to say to her, it was true as well. He would like to enjoy having his own time with her, before it became the business of the entire world.

She smiled at him. A frank, unburdened smile. He hadn’t seen it too often on her. A warmth enveloped him. And he couldn’t resist the temptation. He bent his head down and brought his lips close to her.

“May I?” he asked in a sibilant voice.

In reply, she just so slightly moved her lips closer. He tentatively gave her a quick peck. When she didn’t resist, he pressed his lips against hers, and forced his tongue in her mouth. Because of his weakness he ran out of breath quickly and had to withdraw. He found her smiling and blushing.

“I can’t handle it anymore,” he said, “We must go inside.”

She put his hand back on her shoulder and they walked back.

—

To be continued