Hopeless Hope (Part 18)

Posted Leave a commentPosted in English, Original, Rupali-Paritosh

“Do you still have that dress with Rupali? The one you had worn then?” Paritosh asked after Asim’s car had picked Mouli up in the evening and they were left on their own. They were in Rupali’s room.

“When?”

“On our first dinner,” he said with some hesitation, hoping that she understood.

“Of course,” she said without realizing which first dinner he was talking about. “I am not a celebrity. I can wear a dress many a times,” she joked, “Where would it go away so soon?”

“Which one are you talking about?”

“The one… Oh! Which one are you talking about?”

“Our first dinner…”

“Oh! Oh God! I don’t know. I don’t remember what I had worn. You do?”

“All too well,” he smiled, “It was a cream dress, with red dupatta…”

She felt guilty about lying. She remembered the dress as well as he did. But she continued her pretence, “I don’t have it now. I gained weight. It didn’t fit any longer.” She had shredded the dress into pieces in one of her depressive fits.

“Hmm…”

“Why were you asking about that?”

“I was just wondering. Never saw you in it again. It looked good.” He also lied. He wanted her in that dress that evening. But there was no point making an issue out of it. “And anyway,” he continued, “It is a thing of past when I had to live with the memories of your dresses, your old exam papers, your project reports, the taste of a piece of fried fish etc. Now I have you, right?”

Rupali smiled shyly and nodded. Paritosh encircled her in his arms and pulled her close. She pressed and ran her palms against his chest. Her eyes were lowered and voice low as she spoke, “I’m probably supposed to resist… at least a little, to act unwilling, to run away, to say that we should wait…  or whatever… But I won’t be able to do any of that Dr. Khanna. I am too much in love to do any of that. I have thought about you, waited for you, and wanted you for too long to be able to do any of that. I don’t know if I am spoiling things for you, but I am just helpless…” Her fingers were toying with the buttons on his shirt and she had unbuttoned one.

“Are you?”

She looked up puzzled.

“I doubt you are that helpless, Rupali.”

The colour drained out of her face. Was so much of honesty a mistake?

“There is something you have been resisting for long.”

What on earth did he mean? Her throat went dry.

“Aren’t you going to ask what it is?”

Rupali was thoroughly confused. She felt like she was being asked humiliating questions in a court. She tried to step back and get away from him. But instead of letting her do that, he tightened his arms around her even further.

She was now forced to speak. She tried to use her saliva to restore some function to her parched throat. “I don’t know what are you talking about, Dr. Khanna. Just now I probably said things that were inappropriate…”

“Of course. Hadn’t I told you long back that among colleagues, we are on a first name basis here?”

“Excuse me?”

“And between fiancées we definitely are so.”

“Dr. Khanna. You…”

“Paritosh!”

“No. I can’t do that. And let me go. You scared the hell out of me. I hate you.” She struggled to be freed. But he was stronger.

“Too much of resistance for one evening, Dr. Banerjee,” he was amused and liked this game.

She stopped struggling, grew completely still. She wasn’t looking at him. He was surprised with his lack of reaction. He continued to hold her with one of his arms and used the other hand to lift her chin. He was surprised to see that her eyes were full of tears.

“Hey! What happened? Why are you… I…” he brought up his other hand and cupped her face with both his hands, “I am sorry, Rupali. I was joking. You know that. Why are you crying?”

“Don’t. Ever. Do. That. Again.” That steely voice! She assumed it rarely. The last time she had spoken like that to him was when she was worried that her mother’s health would suffer because of him.

“It was just a joke, Rupali,” he tried to explain miserably.

“Do you have any idea how terrified I am of the possibility that you would go away if I did anything wrong? In a moment of weakness I decided to be utterly honest with you and the next moment with you talking the way you did, I thought that I had made a mistake. And I had lost you. Again and forever!” Tears started flowing freely from her eyes.

He did not say anything, but his eyes reflected her pain. He led her to the bed, sat down on it with her and cuddled her until she had calmed down. He repeatedly kissed her hair and forehead and caressed her upper arms soothingly in that time.

“The only thing,” he finally said in a husky whisper, “That your honest confession had done to me was – and I have no better or poetic words to convey it – to arouse me excessively.” She didn’t lift her eyes to him, but he felt her shiver. “Allow me to prove it,” he said as he gently made her lie down on the bed. Rupali forgot all about her tears and her anger at him as he started kissing her face. Gently, but with surety. With the knowledge that she wanted it as much as he did. He paid attention to her neck next and she arched her head back to give him access while clutching on to the bed-sheet to stop herself from thrashing around too much. The sensation was incredible. Suddenly he licked one of her ear-lobes and a moan skipped from her, even though she bit her lips to stop it. “I need to know,” he whispered in her ears, “That you are with me.” As his hands caressed her breasts and belly, she let go of her hesitations and lifted her hands to his head. She dug her fingers in his hair and caressed them urgently. Then she brought her hands to his chest again and restarted the job of unbuttoning him. When she rubbed her palms against his bare chest, he gave out a loud gasp of delight.

“Talk to me, Rupali,” he said as he rolled over on the bed so that she was now on top of him.

“I love you,” it seemed like the words had flown out of her mouth despite herself and her next words almost confirmed it, “Hopelessly and helplessly.”

“Me too,” he replied and let her take the lead in the kiss that followed, responding to her rhythm and pace. Then he rolled over again pinning her beneath him, undressing her to the extent he could without letting her out of his hold. “Let go, Rupali,” he hissed. And she did let go. Their passionate exploration of each other’s bodies was interrupted by the sound of a car stopping outside the house.

“Oh God! Ma is back!” Rupali exclaimed. Paritosh got up hastily, freeing her. Silently, but hurriedly they smoothened their clothes. Rupali had been wearing a cotton top. “This is too crumpled. I need to change,” she said, “You go out in the hall before they come in.” But as he made to leave, she noticed something on the bed. “Dr. Khanna. Keep this,” she handed him a packet of condoms. It must have slipped out of his pocket earlier.

“You can keep this somewhere here. I don’t want to be carrying it in my pocket.”

“What are you talking about? How would this packet look if discovered in my room? She isn’t going to check your pocket, is she?”

“Right,” he mumbled foolishly and went out.

Paritosh was in calm enough after stepping out. He greeted Mouli and Asim and they sat down in the hall.

“Where is Rupa?” Mouli asked.

“In her room. She is changing.”

“Changing? Why? Are you guys going out now?”

“No. Actually… I don’t know why she is changing.”

“I see,” Mouli said amusedly and Paritosh’ foolish reply, “You are the most non-interfering kind, is it?”

Asim laughed out loud. Paritosh felt that he guessed what was going on and tried hard not to blush.

Rupali came out by then. “So, why did you change, Rupa?” Mouli asked still smiling. She was in a good mood.

“I had spoiled my top, Ma,” Rupali had thought about it while changing and had the answer ready, “While eating.”

“Okay. So, you guys had your dinner?” Mouli was not interrogating, but it almost outed Rupali and Paritosh because Rupali replied in negative instinctively.

Paritosh gave her a what-the-hell look and she realized her mistake. “We were having some juice and snacks,” she added to explain her earlier insconsistency.

“Okay. Have your dinner then. It is quite late.”

“Yes Ma. Shall I get dinner for you and Mr. Sen too?”

“No. We had our dinner. I just invited him in for a cup of tea.”

“I will get tea for you and him.”

They sat on the dining table together. Asim having his hot and Mouli her iced, unsweetened tea as Rupali and Paritosh had their dinner. Mouli noticed some awkwardness between Paritosh and Rupali.

“Have you fought with Paritosh?” she asked Rupali after Asim and Paritosh had left.

“What? No!” Fight! Whatever happened to her mother’s perceptiveness? But for this misperception she was not complaining. It was for good that she didn’t realize what made them awkward.

To be continued

Hopeless Hope (Part 17)

Posted 2 CommentsPosted in English, Original, Rupali-Paritosh

Mouli and Asim were still talking when Paritosh and Rupali came back. They overheard part of their conversation as they walked in.

“Since I come to Mumbai so often, I have a house here too. Didn’t like spending too much time in hotels. I am going to Kolkata tomorrow morning. Have a concert there in the evening. But I will be back after that.”

“A concert tomorrow evening? You should have travelled earlier.”

“Travelling today had been the original plan.”

“You cancelled because of Rupa’s invitation?” she asked looking emotional.

“To be fair to her, she had asked me for Friday night. But weekends were booked. I came for you.”

“You have been an idiot Asim, you know that. You should have moved on.”

“I have been an idiot forever. You know that very well. Else we both know that my family could have supported us initially. My priorities were wrong. Despite all that, despite there being no reason for it, I had a hope. Of at least getting back in touch with you. A hopeless hope, I agree. Because the way it was fulfilled was a pure coincidence. If you hadn’t been dragged to that concert, if I hadn’t noticed you, if your daughter had not been so sensitive, if she hadn’t taken the initiative… Yes. It was a hopeless hope.”

Paritosh smiled on hearing ‘hopeless hope’. That phrase resonated with him.

“They are back,” Mouli noticed Rupali and Paritosh, “Come here. I think she has come to remind me that it is time to sleep.” Mouli looked at her daughter fondly.

“I can relax it for today,” Rupali replied.

“No,” Asim said resolutely, “I also have to travel in the morning and need to be rested before the concert tomorrow. You must go to sleep Mou. Can I… call, once I am back in Mumbai?”

Mouli nodded.

“I will e-mail… no SMS you her number,” Rupali said.

Asim grinned at that. “Do you mind storing it in my phone right away? I don’t know how to use SMS either. And I don’t want to go to my secretary for that.”

Only Rupali got the context and laughed at that. “Sure,” she said and entered the number as Mouli and Paritosh looked on quizzically, not understanding their private joke.

Rupali explained to them later what he had told her about e-mail and they shared the laughter. Paritosh left soon after and Rupali sat beside Mouli, “You are not angry at me, Ma. Are you?”

Mouli affectionately patted her cheek, “No. And I am sorry. I scolded you and had almost ruined the evening.”

“Please Ma. Don’t apologize. I am not sure surprise was a good idea. I didn’t know what the past was like. It could have been horrible, I realized later.”

“Don’t think like that.”

“You must sleep now. It is already later than usual.”

“Yes,” she got up to go to her room.

Rupali stopped her once, “Ma.”

“Yes?”

“Please don’t get angry at what I am going to ask.”

“Just ask Rupa.”

“Do you want to get married?”

“What! No. Don’t be ridiculous. It is your marriage I am thinking about.”

“You have thought about me all your life, Ma. But right now…”

“No Rupa. It’s too late. We are different people. If you want me out of your way, I have your Baba’s house to go to. Your Kaku and Kaki don’t mind.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ma,” Rupali used one of her mother’s pet phrases without realizing it.

“I was joking, sweetie. Have a good night.”

Rupali found an envelope at her desk one morning with her name written on it. She knew the handwriting well. Since the time he had graded her answer papers and left comments on her project reports. And only he had the spare key to her office. She smiled as she opened it and her smile grew wider as she read through the note sitting inside.

“Through my dark past,
Through my present insecurities,
Through my misunderstandings,
Through my hesitations,
Thank you, for keeping up
Your hopeless hope.
Thank you, for giving me
A hopeless hope.
Thank you, for fulfilling
That hopeless hope.
Thank you, for giving me strength
To hope for more than hopeless.
And with that strength
I ask –
Will you marry me?

A responsible son, husband, son-in-law, he definitely was. But he had the ability to be a hopeless romantic as well! She thought for a moment and then took out her notebook. She started modifying something she had written a few days back on his encouragement.

“Tranquillity of night
Gives way to
Clarity of day.

Coolness of night
Gives way to
Brightness of day.

Escapades of night
Give way to
Acceptance of day.

Hopelessness of night
Gives way to
Hopes of Day.

Loneliness of years
Has to give way to
Togetherness for life.

Yes!

Paritosh read it and then looked up with moist, bright eyes. He went to the office door and locked it. For once, not caring about what anyone would think. He held her and informed that his divorce had come through. She had guessed as much. Then he cupped her face and bent down for a long kiss sealing their fate together. He didn’t let go of her even after breaking the kiss. His hands moved back and dug into her hair. He then directed her head to his chest and put his other arm around her to embrace her. Her arms which were resting on both sides of his chest went around his neck completing the embrace. She didn’t know much about perfumes. But whatever he used had such subtle, intoxicating smell that it must be something costly whose habit he had acquired in his days of extravagance. Between the perfume and his body, it had become his smell. Something she was very familiar with by now. And very much in love with. Desire was probably a better word, she thought truthfully to herself. And then her prayers were answered. He whispered to her in a bold, demanding tone, “I want you Rupali. Tonight.” She shivered at the suddenness of his demand, rather the declaration. He had said that he “wanted” her. But his voice made it clear that he had “decided” that he would have her. Her heart started pounding faster than she had imagined it to be possible. But none of her reactions meant a complaint. She had dying to have this moment with him for years now. She snuggled up even closer to him and that was her reply.

This other-worldly tour in the middle of his office was interrupted by a knock on the door. Paritosh broke the hug unwillingly and looked at the door with mild irritation. “What couldn’t wait?” he mumbled; then looked at Rupali, “I will get the door. Don’t come out unless absolutely necessary.”

She nodded. It was someone from the director’s office. The director wanted to meet him in the afternoon.  “Fine. I will be there,” Paritosh tried to keep his voice as controlled as possible. He guarded the door until the visitor was out of sight. Then he did not close the door again.

“Is Mrs. Banerjee’s plan of visiting Mr. Sen still on?”

Rupali only nodded. She would have to search for words in her throat. They seemed to have deserted her in the aftermath of anticipation created by Paritosh.

“If you don’t have anything important to attend to in the afternoon, let’s go to her before she leaves and tell her about this. After my meeting with the director.”

“Tell her about what?” The shock overcame the anticipation and Rupali found her voice. She was thinking about nothing other than his declaration that he wanted her that night.

“About our decision to get married.”

“Oh!” He was talking about the proposal and acceptance, official engagement, wedding. Of course! What was she thinking?

“What did you think?”

“Nothing. I was just a little lost. Let me know once you meeting gets over.”

“Rupali,” he stopped her as she made to the door. She looked at him curiously. “You weren’t so lost that you didn’t hear me, right? You heard and understood me, didn’t you?”

She gulped and nodded. His insecurities! Will they ever go away? Even if not, she was willing to fight them all her life. “Left to my understanding and preparedness,” she added in a low, soft voice, “we wouldn’t have to wait till now.”

She left Paritosh desperate and satisfied at the same time. Her bold reply had increased his desire for her.  And had also assured him of her desires for him.

“I have done it wrong twice earlier. And you didn’t try to correct me, Mou. If I am doing something wrong again, please correct me. But don’t let me suffer for it.”

“What are you talking about?” Mouli asked as she sipped her unsweetened ice tea. Asim had found out from Rupali that it had been the drink of her choice since she was diagnosed with diabetes.

“Marry me Mou. And if you are going to say ‘no’, tell me how to make you say ‘yes’. Please.”

“Did Rupa tell you something?”

“About?”

“This?”

“No. Why would you think so?”

“Just wanted to be sure. Asim, my daughter is planning to get married. I have to think about her wedding, not mine.”

“Let me help you with her wedding, Mou. Let me be the partner to you that I have always wanted to be.”

“You won’t help me if we were not married?” Mouli asked looking amused.

“Words! They are your biggest weapons, aren’t they? I didn’t mean that. You know that very well.”

“Yes Asim. I know that. And you also know that I was joking.”

“Why are you refusing me again?”

“Asim. I never had an artist’s eccentricity. I was never as irreverent as you were. Otherwise I could have waited for you all those years ago, instead of succumbing to my parent’s wishes. I am still the same person Asim. Getting married at this age… I don’t know how to feel comfortable with that idea.”

“It was for your parents’ wishes then. Who are you sacrificing for now? Do you think Rupali will dislike it?”

“Rupa?” Mouli laughed affectionately, “No. No Asim. She is a mature and open-minded girl. She has the conviction to get married to a man many years his senior, a match that is definitely going to cause some raised eyebrows in the society. But she doesn’t care. She, in fact, persisted in her love and fought hard against his insecurities…”

“Something I couldn’t do.”

“She did have some advantage of my counsel. But her own belief was the most important part. She asked me much before you did if I wanted to get married. She is not my problem, Asim.”

“Then?”

“I don’t see myself as a victim of circumstances. I had loved you despite knowing what you were – an artist first, a lover much later; and despite knowing what I was. A conventional girl next door first, everything else later. I hadn’t been coerced into my marriage Asim. It was a result of my own choices. The choice of fulfilling my parents’ wishes, because ignoring them for my artist lover and living an uncertain life was not a comfortable situation for me.  Today too, it is I who is not comfortable in announcing to the world that I am getting married. This old woman has grown from the same simple, conventional girl next door. I still don’t have the irreverence. Nobody would coerce me, my daughter would not judge me, even I would not judge if someone else were to do this. But I… I won’t be able to do it.”

“There definitely is something that I don’t see here. Last time also I had assumed that you were resolutely against marrying me, because you didn’t find me good enough. But it turned out to be something else.”

“The only other thing that nobody other than me sees here is that I am on death’s door, Asim. I have not given you anything all my life. I haven’t been a part of your life for most of it. I don’t want to come in with death now. No.”

Asim sighed, leaned towards her and took her hands in his, “Why have you gotten it in your head Mou? Your surgery has been successful. The follow-ups show great results.”

She did not reply and looked at him with a helpless ‘I-can’t-explain’ expression.  He grew desperate, “Mou. It’s not like I am young any longer. But whatever little time I have left with me, finding you feels like I have gotten another chance. I don’t want to lose you once again… Please…”

“And you have done nothing wrong this time, Asim. That is not a regret you will ever have. I am the one who is lucky. To have found you a third time. I don’t want to squander this chance away either. But the time to be together in a worldly sense is over. We have been star-crossed lovers. Let’s be the soul-mates we have always been. Let’s not try to give this connection a name now and invite all the associated complications. I have been through them and I don’t have any strength left.”

“Fine. So long as you are happy and we are together, I will ask for nothing else.”

“I am. But are you?”

“I have more than I deserve. Name, fame, money, and you!”

To be continued

Hopeless Hope (Part 16)

Posted Leave a commentPosted in English, Original, Rupali-Paritosh

Mouli and Asim sat in silence for a while.

“Does she sing, or play?” he asked after a while.

“Rupa? No.”

“You never tried to introduce her to…”

“No Asim. I deliberately kept her away.”

“Why?”

“She has better control over her life this way Asim. Not like us…”

“You never forgave me, did you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous Asim. When did I ever blame you that I should forgive you?”

“Are you happy, Mou?”

She averted her eyes before replying, “Yes. I am happy. My happiness lies with my daughter.”

“I envy you.”

“Come on. Aren’t you happy Asim? You have achieved everything. Your music has got recognition. You have the name, the fame, the money.”

“Since when did you become so materialistic?”

Mouli sighed and did not reply. If he insisted so much her defences would start crumbling.

“It is obvious,” he said when she did not speak, “That you have raised a wonderful daughter, Mou. She is witty just like you. And she is a sensitive soul. Else I won’t be here today.”

“Asim please…”

“You have done your duty. And you have done it very well. Can’t you think for yourself now?”

“Think for myself?” Mouli chuckled bitterly, “I am at the death’s door Asim.”

“Excuse me?” he was alarmed, “What’s the matter with you? You did look unwell, but…”

“Nothing,” she had revealed something she didn’t want to, “When you have such a grownup daughter, you feel sufficiently old.” She tried to joke it off.

“You didn’t think I was good enough to be a father to your daughter. But now… You don’t think I am good enough to even know anything about you? This is not fair, Mou.”

“Asim please. There is nothing to know.”

“Nothing?” he became agitated, “Nothing to know. Nothing to tell. Nothing to share! Why Mou? Rupali didn’t even know about me?”

“She is my daughter Asim, my baby. Not a sister, or a friend. What would I have told her?” Mouli asked miserably.

Her discomfort brought Asim to his senses. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, “This wasn’t what I had in mind when I came here. I got carried away, Mou. I didn’t intend to trouble you any more than I already have. I was hoping to have a nice family evening. I got carried away…”

They heard footsteps coming out from the kitchen and fell silent. They consciously made efforts to not look as anxious and miserable as they were feeling.

“Tea for you,” Rupali handed a cup to Asim. There was some unsweetened ice tea for Mouli and for Paritosh and herself. “Ma. You can also take your medicine with the tea. Here,” she said as she handed Mouli her juice glass.

“It is not necessary Rupa. I can take it later.” Mouli was annoyed at her daughter and it was so rare that Rupali was visibly startled.

“What’s the matter, Ma? You must take it on time…”

“Leave it, Rupa.”

“It’s okay Mou,” Asim sat up, “Don’t stress yourself and don’t scold her for no fault of hers. You don’t want me to know. I won’t know. Whatever it is, this stress cannot help you. I shouldn’t have come.” He looked at Rupali and gave her a sweet, but sad smile, “I’m sorry child. I should have known better. Really sorry. But take care of your mother. Have a good night.”

Paritosh was mortified at the turn of events. It had been his idea. And it had been such a bad idea. And he could not think of any way to salvage the situation.

Rupali was also stunned for a moment. But she thought of something and ran after Asim. “Wait Mr. Sen. You can’t leave like this.”

“What you had in mind, Rupali, was your mother’s happiness. If she doesn’t want me here…”

“That’s not true. That’s not true at all. Please come with me. Once. Please,” she held his hands and led him to her mother’s room.

Mouli meanwhile buried her head in her hands and cried silently.

Asim was surprised when Rupali opened a cupboard filled with cassettes and CDs. She took a few of them out and gave them to him. “If you can tell me a single album of yours that is not in this collection, I won’t stop you from leaving. I don’t know what your story is. I don’t know what went wrong, or who is the culprit. But these… that I have seen her hanging on to since my childhood. And what I saw on the day of the concert… And what I saw today… They tell me a story that should not remain unresolved, even if it is doomed to remain incomplete.”

Asim was starting at the collection all this while. He kept back the ones Rupali had handed him. Then he turned to her, patted her head and kissed her on forehead. “Thank you. You have no idea what you have done for me.”

“What had happened? What went wrong between you?”

“That is not for me to tell you, Rupali. I’m sorry. If your mother doesn’t want it…”

“I will tell you,” Paritosh entered the room just then.

When Rupali had dragged Asim inside the room, Paritosh had gone to Mouli and had kneeled on the floor near her feet. “I’m sorry. It is not Mr. Sen’s or Rupali’s fault. It was my idea and obviously I have gone horribly wrong.”

Mouli had wiped her tears before looking up and had asked, “You were trying to pay me back?”

“Pay you back? No. I can never pay you back. You have given me, Rupali. I had no such audacious intentions. I had felt that whatever be the complications, there was no bitterness between the two of you and I thought you would spend a nice evening in the company of a friend, that’s it.”

She had sighed and sat back on the sofa. Paritosh had gotten up from the floor and had pulled a chair to sit near her. “What had happened? You can share Mrs. Banerjee. Your daughter is grown up. She will understand.”

“I’m sure she will. It’s I who doesn’t have the strength.”

“You can tell me.”

Presently Paritosh narrated what Mouli had told him. She and Asim were in college together. Madly in love with each other and music. Asim wanted to make it big the world of music. That became a problem for their love story though. Mouli’s parents wanted her to get married after college. Asim was still a struggling artist. He couldn’t afford to marry her just then.

“That wasn’t the time and age when girls could endlessly resist the societal pressure to get married. And Mouli was, has always been, a very sensitive person. She didn’t want to let her parents down,” Asim continued the story once he was convinced that Mouli didn’t mind sharing it and had already shared it with Paritosh, “She got married according to her parent’s choice and came to live in that small town near Mumbai, so far from her home. Don’t misjudge her for any of this Rupali. She was devoted to your father.” Rupali nodded in understanding. “I wrote to her a couple of times, just to keep in touch, but she strictly forbade it. I knew where she was, of course. We had many common friends. I had come to meet her twice after your father’s death. Once just after the accident. I wanted to ensure that she was holding up fine. I found that she was. Then I came back after a year. By then I had found some foothold. I could have supported myself and her. I proposed her. But she refused. She didn’t think I’d be good enough a father for you.” Rupali bowed her head. She could easily imagine her mother being so protective towards her.

“That’s not what she thought of you Mr. Sen,” Paritosh interrupted, “What she told me was that she felt insecure in any potential relationship between the two of you. She thought she’d come with a baggage, a past and it won’t work out.” Rupali looked up in surprise. She had used similar words to describe Paritosh’ situation in their relationship. And she had been accurate. From experience?

Asim also looked surprised. “That’s what she told you?”

Paritosh nodded. Asim went out of the room to the hall. Paritosh and Rupali followed, but stopped at a distance. Mouli was slumped on the sofa, looking all exhausted. Asim found the tablet Rupali had offered to her on the table. He picked it up and sat beside here.

“Here. You don’t want to tell me what it is for. Fine. I won’t insist on knowing. But it seems it is important for you to have it on time. Please take it.”

Mouli straightened up a little and took the tablet with trembling hands. She picked up the ice tea glass that was still lying untouched and gulped the tablet down.

“I should have tried harder, shouldn’t I?” he asked with a sad smile.

“Yes. You should have. It was years later that Shivani told me what you had interpreted my refusal to mean.” She seemed to welcome the opportunity to speak her heart out.

“I am sorry. I really am. For myself too,” he continued with the same sad smile.

“You never married?”

“Tried once. Failed.”

“Oh!”

“I could not move on. I think I obsessed about you, about us, about what could have been.”

“That makes a room full of obsessive people,” Paritosh whispered to Rupali jokingly. She rolled her eyes at him and he grinned.

“Excuse me,” Rupali went forward to put an end to the grim mood, “But I have worked really hard for this dinner. Do you mind having it before it goes cold?”

Everyone smiled at her fondly. “Let’s get the dinner,” Asim said cheerfully.

“Ma. Me and Dr. Khanna are going to take a stroll outside,” Rupali said after dinner, “We will be back soon. But if Mr. Sen makes to leave before that, please give us a call.”

Mouli nodded understanding very well their intention of leaving her and Asim alone.

“And Ma…” she added a little hesitantly, “You must take your medicine in fifteen minutes.”

Mouli nodded again, with an apologetic smile.

To be continued

Hopeless Hope (Part 15)

Posted Leave a commentPosted in English, Original, Rupali-Paritosh

“I was wondering Mrs. Banerjee. You had understood my issues, my insecurities quite well,” Paritosh said while visiting Mouli the next day, “From experience?”

“Experience of loneliness? Yes,” she gave a small smile.

“And you never found someone who could give you company, with whom you could move on? Like you helped me do?”

Her face coloured, but she replied, “I had Rupa. I wasn’t as lonely. And I had her responsibility. You have none.”

“But the possibility of moving on was there? Which you sacrificed?”

“I will die a happy woman Paritosh. I don’t regret my choices.”

“That’s a good thing. But you really have to stop talking about dying. You scare Rupali. And me too.”

“I’m sorry. But I just feel it. Anyway. Let’s talk of happier things. When do the two of you plan to get married?”

“I haven’t talked to Rupali yet. But the divorce will take some time to process.”

“Of course.”

“And… I needed your advice about something.”

“Tell me.”

“Rupali wants to meet Amrit. Do you think that is advisable?”

“Arr… If she wants to meet, why are you asking me?”

“I just wasn’t sure…”

“Treat her like an adult Paritosh. I have let her make her own decisions always and have never regretted it. I am not going to meddle in her affairs now.”

“Right. I am sorry,” Paritosh suddenly felt foolish for having asked.

“No,” Mouli smiled, “Don’t be sorry. I feel happy when you ask me. Who else will you ask when in doubt?”

Paritosh was relieved and smiled, “Thank you.”

“Hello!” Rupali chirped entering into his office that afternoon.

“Rupali. Come,” he beamed without restraint and took his feet off the window sill where it was resting while his hand was busy playing with the paper-weight on the table.

“You were lost in thoughts. What’s up?” she asked as she came in.

Paritosh considered asking her to shut the door, but doing that too often would unnecessarily give rise to rumours in the department. So, he decided against it.

“You have Mr. Sen’s card?”

“I would have it in my purse. Why?”

“I think you should invite him over. For a dinner probably.”

“And why?” Rupali asked not particularly surprised by the proposal. But she wanted to see what Paritosh’ reasoning was.

“Well… It was obvious that he knows Mrs. Banerjee pretty well and was very happy to see her.”

“Dr. Khanna. Are you thinking what I am thinking?”

Paritosh chuckled, “Depends on what you are thinking.”

“I don’t know. Ma was so unwilling to go there initially. Then she didn’t like the idea of the front seats…”

“Because it would be costly?” Paritosh objected just for fun.

“So I thought initially. But later… Anyway. You know what I mean. Don’t badger me for the heck of it. All that obsessive collection of his albums over the years…”

“Obsession runs in the family, it seems. I am worried now,” Paritosh joked.

She raised her eyebrows, “I’d be worried about our kids. Obsession running on both sides of the family. They would stand no chance at all.”

“Kids? Thinking quite far Dr. Banerjee, eh?”

Rupali realized what she had said and coloured. “Stop annoying me,” she pouted.

“Okay,” he grew serious, “So? Inviting him?”

“I’m not sure, Dr. Khanna. She, obviously, doesn’t want me to know anything. That is, if our imagination is not running wild, and there is something to know. In either case, she might not like it.”

“I’d say let’s take the risk,” Paritosh was more comfortable with the idea after his chat with Mouli earlier in the day.

“But will he agree? He is a celebrity. A busy man… And his enthusiasm may not be real, after all.”

“At worst he would refuse. What harm could come from it?”

On hearing “at worst he would refuse”, Rupali recalled the time when she had thought the same about asking Paritosh for a favour. She smiled and nodded. “Fine. I will do that right away. Tomorrow is Friday night. If he is free, that is… My phone is in my office. I will go there.”

“Hello Rupali,” the mobile was picked up on the first ring itself, “How are you?”

Rupali was taken by surprise. He had her number? How? He had noted it down from her card? Why?

“Hello Mr. Sen. I am…” she started speaking her rehearsed line introducing herself, when she realized that he already knew who she was.  “I am fine,” she finally said answering his question, “How are you?”

“I am fine too. What a pleasant surprise to hear from you,” his voice was as eager as it had been on the day of the concert.

“Reaching you is a pleasant surprise for me too,” she had gathered her wits by then, “I thought I would have to explain to a secretary what business I had with you.”

He laughed at that. A carefree, unaffected laughter. “You have your mother’s wit Rupali. It is a good thing. How is your fiancée? Dr. Khanna, right?”

Rupali blushed even on phone. Referring Paritosh as her ‘fiancée’ was not something she was used to yet. “He is fine too,” she managed to say, “Mr. Sen. I was wondering if you would be free tomorrow evening. I know it is probably too much to ask you. Your schedule will be busy. But still… Could you have dinner with us?”

There was a silence for a moment on the other side. Rupali waited with bated breath. Was he too shocked that she took that liberty? “If you are busy…” she started offering him a way out.

“Rupali. Weekends are, unfortunately, busy with concerts and appointments. But does Monday evening work for you?”

She sighed in relief, “Yes. Of course. It works very well.”

“Great. So, I have to come to your campus?”

“Yes. Shall I send the directions and address by e-mail?”

He laughed slightly, “I am technologically illiterate, Rupali. That will certainly go to my secretary. But that should do.”

“And Mr. Sen,” she decided to be honest with him, “Actually… This is a surprise for Ma. I haven’t told her.”

“Oh!” Rupali waited with bated breath again. Will he refuse? “That sounds like a good idea,” he spoke to her relief, “It would be fun to see her reaction.”

“Great. Done then. I will send you, or your secretary, a mail,” she said jocularly, “Hope it won’t be filtered out.”

“No. It won’t be,” he replied. He was obviously smiling.

“Bye then, Mr. Sen. See you on Monday. At 7.30?”

“Looking forward to it. Bye Rupali.”

“Who is this friend of yours Rupa that you are preparing such an elaborate dinner?”

“You will see soon, Ma.”

“You have been in the kitchen the entire afternoon yourself. Why can’t Pammi do it?”

“Oh stop worrying! I am fine. Why don’t you put on one of your Asim Sen’s albums to play?”

Mouli raised her eyebrows, “So, this friend is an Asim Sen fan?”

“Possibly,” Rupali said. ‘He doesn’t sound that narcissist though,’ she thought amusedly to herself.

The doorbell rung at around seven.

“Looks like your friend is already here,” Mouli said, “Will you get the door? You haven’t even changed…”

“That must be Dr. Khanna, Ma. I will get the door. He will come by 7.30 or so.”

But Mouli’s words proved prophetic. She found Paritosh as well as Asim Sen at the door. She grew conscious about her attire, but decided not to worry on her count that day. “Please come in Mr. Sen,” she invited him in excitedly, “How did you two find each other?”

“He had passed by your house failing to notice the number and the only soul he found on the road to guide him was me,” Paritosh replied.

“Oh yes. The numbering is confusing here. Come here. Please sit. Ma is in her room. Let me call her.”

“Wait. Take this. These are for you.” Rupali smiled on seeing a packet of Bengali sweets.

“Thank you,” she said warmly, “I will get Ma. Dr. Khanna. Will you please keep him company till then?”

“Sure.”

But Mouli had already come out of her room into the hall by the time Rupali turned to leave. She looked shocked and for a moment Rupali regretted doing this. Was this too much for her sick mother? But Mouli overcame her shock and walked forward. She was still uneasy, but didn’t look angry. Rupali was relieved.

“Rupa. You never told me…”

“Mr. Sen agreed to our idea of keeping it a surprise for you, Ma.”

“That was sweet of him, but you must have troubled him so much for this.”

“I am very happy to be here, Mou,” Asim was smiling, but some mortification could be heard in his voice, “But if this is an inconvenience to you…”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Asim. Please sit down. It’s an honour….” suddenly her voice quivered and died down. She turned to Rupali, “Get him something to drink Rupa.”

“It’s quite hot today. I have made some fresh juice.”

“Make some tea,” Mouli said, “He is devoted singer. He won’t take anything cold.”

“Ohh! Okay…”

“Don’t bother her Mou. Rupali, it’s not that strict. Get me juice you have made and…”

Rupali laughed, “Don’t be so formal Mr. Sen. Making some tea won’t take more than a few minutes.”

“I’ll help you,” Paritosh said and before Mouli could object, he was out of the hall. He wanted to be out of their way.

“Help me in making tea? You are too much Dr. Khanna. Do you even know how to light a stove?”

“Don’t be fooled by my extravagance, Dr. Banerjee,” he replied in jest, “I have lived on my own most of my life.”

That made her serious, “That’s true.”

“Now don’t look so serious. I was only joking. I’m sure you don’t need any handholding for making tea. I just wanted to get out of their way.”

“Very thoughtful, as usual,” she said half-jokingly.

To be continued

Hopeless Hope (Part 14)

Posted Leave a commentPosted in English, Original, Rupali-Paritosh

As she was putting her older earrings in her purse, her eyes fell on a paper lying under the paperweight whose words looked familiar. She couldn’t help her curiosity and picked it up.

“What is it?” he asked and came to her.

“This is my biodata.”

“Hmm…”

“This is what I had given to Meher for my introduction. But you didn’t use it.”

“No. I didn’t. I didn’t think it did justice to your actual achievements.”

“So, you researched everything about me for the introduction?”

He smiled, “Let’s just say that you are not the only one capable of obsession. I knew everything beforehand.”

“Ohh!”

“I didn’t go to the extent of making an app to keep track on you,” he teased her, “But your homepage at Stanford was in my bookmarks all this while.”

“Well… You didn’t keep your homepage updated. I had to rely on other people mentioning you,” she pouted.

“Of course, you had to,” he chuckled and gently planted an affectionate kiss on her forehead.

“Would you like to go to a live music concert?” Paritosh asked her.

“Why not? Which one?”

“There is a live performance by Asim Sen. He doesn’t do too many of these.”

“Hmm…”

“What happened? Not interested.”

“No. No. I was thinking of something else.”

“Tell me.”

“I think Ma is a huge fan of Asim Sen. She listens to his songs all the time. I think she must have every single album of his ever released. Classical, Bengali pop, Hindi, Ghazals, Bollywood. Everything. If you don’t mind, can we take her with us?”

“If she is well, why not?”

Oh! The joys of being with a man like him. He wouldn’t consider parents to be an annoyance. Ever!

Paritosh noticed that his acceptance made her extremely happy. None of his gifts till now had brought this kind of smile on her face. “Thank you, Dr. Khanna.”

“What is there to thank me about? I will send Raja to get the tickets,” he said about his housekeeper.

“You can get those online these days. Why make him run around?”

“Really? Where?”

She opened an event ticketing website and the tickets for the concert were available. She stopped him when he started ordering the most expensive tickets.

“We only have to hear him, Dr. Khanna. Why pay 2000 Rs. for a ticket?”

“But it will be a better experience. Seats in front, less crowded, better view of the stage…”

“Too expensive.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you that rich, or are you just extravagant?”

“Huh? What kind of a question is that?” he frowned.

She got nervous, “I… I am sorry. Please forget I said anything. Book whatever you like. I am really, really sorry.”

He looked at her for a moment; then asked seriously, “You are uncomfortable about something?”

“No. No. It was silly thing for me to say…” she tried to deflect the topic.

“Rupali! Tell me honestly.”

She sighed and then gave words to her anxiety, “Why do you spend so much on me?”

“Who else will I spend on?”

“I am very happy with my life, Dr. Khanna. I have you. I don’t need these expensive gifts. How much jewellery have you seen me wearing? How many gadgets do I use? I’m just not used to these. You are not…” she paused wondering if what she was going to say would be offensive; then decided to speak it out anyway. “You are you not trying to impress me, are you? You don’t need to. I am already so impressed that I have lost myself in you. Why do you feel the need to spend?”

“I don’t know,” he looked thoughtful, “I just feel like.”

“If you feel like,” she smiled, “Who am I to stop you? I just wanted to tell you that I don’t need it.”

“And you feel uncomfortable?”

“Ma saved all her life, to support me when I needed something. She never said ‘no’ to anything I asked for. But I have seen her practicing strict financial discipline for that. I guess that has created something of a miser out of me,” she gave an embarrassed grin as she tried to explain her discomfort with spending too much.

Paritosh continued to be thoughtful as he said, more appropriately thought aloud, “And I wasn’t this ‘extravagant’ always. My parents did always spend judiciously, even if they could afford to spend much more. The money I have is my family money. The real-estate sold or rented at good prices thanks to the retail boom, and the money invested well after that. But all this wouldn’t have survived, if they hadn’t preserved it well.”

“Then you are spending because of me?”

“No. It has been quite some time now.”

That was obvious. His BMW wasn’t new. He had taken her to a five-star hotel’s restaurant all those years ago as well.

“Why?” she pressed his hands and asked softly. He looked anxious at the realization that he had indeed been extravagant; in a way that was not natural to him.

“Probably because… This was the only thing I had. Some money. Spending it at my whim was the only way to feel that I had some control, some power over my life.”

She felt a tug at her heart. She went closer to him on the sofa and hugged him. He was surprised at first, then happily reciprocated. He hugged her gently, but slowly his grip tightened and Rupali felt like the entire world was at her feet. This is where she belonged. In his arms. She nudged at his neck and he responded in kind, soon graduating to caressing her back, kissing her neck and face and before she realized it, she was pinned beneath him on the sofa, her body facing sweet invasion of his rough caresses and urgent kisses.

But he stopped after a while, gave her his hand and helped her sit up. She was confused. She leaned on his chest to hide her face and asked, “What happened?”

“Not like this, Rupali. Not at the spur of a moment. I don’t want either of us to regret it.”

Oh the gentleman! Her body was screaming for him. And she wanted to give voice to these screams. But she couldn’t be so bold before him. She took deep breaths to calm herself down, then pulled herself back.

“No more extravagance,” he whispered to her with a smile.

“No more gifts?” she raised an eyebrow in mock alarm.

“Only if you strictly need something,” he grinned.

She pretended to pout at first, then both of them broke into a laughter.

“But I’d give you a breather this time,” she said, “You can buy the 2000 Rs. passes. Comfortable, uncrowded seats would be better for Ma.”

Mouli had at first resisted the idea of her going with them for the concert. “What will I do there? You two go.” But on Rupali’s insistence and on realizing that the tickets were already purchased, she gave in.

“Front row seats,” she was surprised when they were ushered in, “They would be so expensive.”

“Like mother, like daughter,” Paritosh mumbled playfully and Rupali chuckled.

“Come Ma,” she told her mother, “It is less crowded and more comfortable. You will be better off there.”

“Sure,” she mumbled. Nobody noticed a cloud passing over her face.

Rupali sat in the middle, with Paritosh on one side and Mouli on another.

The acclaimed singer came on the stage and was greeted with a loud applause. Rupali and Paritosh looked on and did not notice the stiffening in Mouli’s countenance.

It was during the third song that Mouli felt Asim’s eyes on her. They stayed there for a while and she could almost see the look of surprise and disbelief on his face. Had he recognized her? He must have. He had missed the “sam” at which he was to start singing the next stanza. His companions on the various instruments all looked at him in surprise, while they continued to replay the music. He waved at them slightly asking them to continuing the replay and he would pick up at the next “sam”. Not many in the audience, however, noticed this little drama. Paritosh and Rupali were oblivious too. After the song ended, Asim whispered something to the tabalchi sitting next to him. While the rest of the players calibrated their instruments for the next song, the tabalchi went out of the stage and came back with a young boy who looked like a staff of Asim’s group. Asim whispered something to him and Mouli was almost sure that she felt the boy’s eyes on her. The exchange was not something that was particularly noticed by the audience. Artists talking to their staff during a live performance was nothing uncommon. They might need something.

After the performance was over and Asim Sen was greeted with a standing ovation, Mouli tried to hurry her companions into leaving. “It’s quite late now,” she said and worried about her health, they willingly complied.

But before they could even reach the aisles, the boy Asim had spoken to came hurriedly to them. “Ms. Mouli Chatterjee?” he tried to confirm Mouli’s maiden name. Her face coloured as she nodded. “Ma’am. Asim Da had said that he would like to meet you. Do you mind coming to the green room with me?”

“But I have company?” she tried to give a weak excuse.

“They are invited too, Ma’am. Please.”

“You know him?” Rupali was surprised. Mouli have her an uncharacteristic nervous smile, “It is a surprise he remembers. We went to the college together.”

“Hmm…”

“Let’s go. Thanks to your mother, we also get to meet a great singer,” Paritosh said.

“Mou! What a surprise to see you here!” The familiarity and eagerness, with which Asim Sen addressed Mouli, surprised Rupali and Paritosh. They exchanged a glance not quite knowing what to make of it.

Mouli just smiled and then made to introduce Rupali and Paritosh, “This is Rupali, my daughter.”

“Wow! All grown up, huh? The last time I saw you kiddo, you were what… seven years old?”

“You have seen me earlier?” Rupali’s eyes darted from Asim, to Mouli to Paritosh and back. What was going on there?

Asim looked at Mouli with expression that looked like a mix of reproach and sadness. “Yes,” he replied with a longing smile, “It has been a long time, of course. Your mother has been too busy all these years raising you. What are you doing currently?”

Rupali told him about her job and then introduced Paritosh, “This is Dr. Paritosh Khanna. Our HOD.”

“And her fiancée, I hope,” Mouli added with a smile making both of them blush.

“Oh! That’s great. Congratulations to both of you and nice to meet you Dr. Khanna.”

“The pleasure is all ours, Mr. Sen.”

There was an awkward silence between them for next few moments. Asim broke it, “How have you been, Mou?”

“Just fine, as you can see. I think many of your fans are waiting for autographs. We shouldn’t keep you all to ourselves,” Mouli seemed keen on getting away as soon as possible.

“Here is my card,” he pressed one in each of their hands, “I am in Mumbai for a few days. If possible, give me a call.” He looked like he’d ask Mouli for her number, but he restrained himself. Paritosh sensed something in the situation and he handed his card to Asim Sen. Slightly confused, even Rupali followed his lead and gave her card. Mouli didn’t have any.

Then they took his leave.

To be continued

Hopeless Hope (Part 13)

Posted Leave a commentPosted in English, Original, Rupali-Paritosh

“What are you thinking about,” she smiled so sweetly that Paritosh felt the urge to pull her towards him and kiss her madly right there.

Outwardly he let out a sigh, “How do I undo what I had done wrong last time?”

“You had done nothing wrong last time,” she hastily assured him, “Why would you think so?”

“Nothing?” he smiled sadly, “You are too forgiving.”

“Dr. Khanna,” Rupali spoke earnestly, “Sometimes I feel that you are scared of happiness. And you probably have good reasons to be sceptical. You have always kept other people’s interests ahead of yourself. But you didn’t get the happiness and peace you deserved in return. But can you try and trust me? If I wasn’t happy with you, if I wanted you to regret something, if I wanted to punish you for something, if I had any grudges against you, we would not be here today and I would not be telling you this. All I want is to be happy with you. We have lost a lot of time. But I don’t want to lose any more time moaning over the spilt milk. Let’s forget about it.”

“Your conscience, Rupali, is clear. You didn’t doubt, you didn’t falter, you didn’t misunderstand. That is not the case with me.”

“Actually… I had my share of doubts, misunderstanding, everything. And someday we can talk about all of it. But not with any regrets. Only for sharing ourselves with each other. Today, right now, I only want to share a meal. Please don’t be sad Dr. Khanna. For my sake. Yes. That makes sense. That is something you can do. Put my wishes ahead of your regrets? You can do that easily, right?”

Paritosh smiled and shook his head. How could he ever doubt her sincerity towards himself? “Shall we order?” he asked.

“Same dishes as last time?”

“Sure.”

Their conversation was not necessarily smooth in the evening. There was a gap of years to be filled, many explanations to be given, many oddities to be explained. But Rupali did not want to get overwhelmed by all of that in just one evening. He understood and respected that. So, they talked of inane daily stuff, work, colleagues, institute, research, publications, everything but themselves. When they got back in the car, however, a strange tension filled the environment. The evening was ending and it seemed like there was something to be said, to be done, which wasn’t done. They drove back mostly in silence.

He also got out of the car when he pulled over in front of her house and walked around to her side. Memories flooded both their minds. But this time there was no uncertainty, not scruples, no hesitations. His hands still trembled as he cupped her face. But he did not stop. He kissed her. A long, deep, needy, urgent, desperate kiss, which she responded with gusto. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead by the time they finally withdrew. Both of them were panting and her eyes were moist.

He lifted her chin to make her look directly at him. “What happened?” he asked softly.

She smiled slightly and shook her head, “Nothing bad. Nothing bad at all.”

He also smiled and stepped back.  “So? Good night, then?”

“We can’t continue to be night-owls I believe,” she said sportingly, but the tinge of disappointment in her voice was quite obvious.

“Well… Why not?”

“Really?” her eyes shone in excitement. In that moment Paritosh could see the young, spirited student he knew come back.

He shrugged with a broad smile conveying “Why not?” again.

“I will check if Ma is still awake. She shouldn’t be kept waiting for me. Why don’t you come inside as well?”

“Sure.”

Mouli had stepped out just in time to overhear the last part of their conversation. She had heard the sound of the car, and when Rupali did not come back, she grew curious and came out. But on hearing this, she hurried back inside and went straight to her room. “Crazy love-birds,” she mumbled amusedly to herself and pretended to be asleep when Rupali peeped into her room. “But then we all are. In our days, in our time…” she added afterwards.

“Can I ask you something, Rupali?”

“If you ask permission through a question to ask me a question that is recursion without a base case. You will go in an infinite loop.”

He chuckled, and not wanting to spoil the nice mood, withdrew, “Let it be then.”

“Arr.. No. Ask me. What was it?”

“Nothing important.”

“Then why make me curious and make an issue out of it. Whatever it was, ask now.”

He sighed and spoke slowly, “Since you came back, there was something about you that bothered me. You always looked very unsure, nervous, almost miserable. You weren’t like this earlier. You aren’t like that now. But have you been like that all these years? Was it… was it because of me?”

Rupali stiffened. She regretted urging him to ask. How was she supposed to handle this? Her mother had talked about Paritosh’ insecurities. How could she answer it so that she didn’t have to lie and he wouldn’t go on a guilt trip? After a moment’s thought, she decided to share it all with him.

“Let me show you something,” she said and brought out her phone. She navigated to the app that was now in disuse, but which had been a constant companion of hers for the six years in US. Then he handed it to him. There were many unread Google Alerts in it.

“What is it?”

“An app that collects Google Alert on your name and pushes them on my mobile.”

“What?” he was incredulous for a while and then started laughing, “Now that could be marketed as an award-winning way of stalking.” She merely smiled. But Paritosh grew serious after this, “So, this is how you had come to know about my talk at IIMT and the video?”

She nodded, “And a lot of other things. I couldn’t move on Dr. Khanna. God is my witness that I had tried. But I couldn’t.”

“You never tried to tell me!” he grew emotional.

“I was scared. You were so angry. I didn’t think you’d believe me.”

He sighed. He couldn’t blame her for thinking so. “So, you were indeed miserable. And it was because of me.”

“Ma says…” she started, but hesitated for a moment. Then decided to continue anyway, “That you were the one feeling insecure in this relationship. I hope this tells you how much power you have over me. If I were you, I won’t ever feel insecure.”

Paritosh smiled sadly, “Yes. I can see the power and I…” he stopped. He was going to say “I abused it”, but realized that if he wallowed in self-pity, Rupali would feel bad about sharing her story honestly with him.

“And you?” she could never stand his half-completed sentences or stories.

“And I will try my best not to abuse it,” he changed what he was originally saying. But he meant it and promised to himself to stand by it.

“I know that you won’t. Else I wouldn’t have told you.”

Her faith scared him. And it warmed his heart!

“Paritosh. Come in. What a surprise!” Mouli was glad to see Paritosh next day. Rupali was in the office.

“Surprise?” he chuckled, “Why! You are talking like I have come to meet you for the first time.”

“No, you aren’t. But I didn’t think you’d have time for me any longer,” she teased him good-humouredly.

“Come on Mrs. Banerjee,” he tried to keep a brave and straight face, but a blush crept in.

Mouli laughed, “Come now. Sit down. Tell me, how are you doing?”

“I am doing fine. How is your health?”

“I would say it is fine till I am alive.”

“Don’t talk so negatively. You are all right.”

Mouli sighed, “Forget about me. Just keep her happy, Paritosh.”

“I haven’t done too well there till now. But I promise that I will try my best. Any tips?”

“It can’t be too difficult,” Mouli smiled fondly, “She doesn’t ask for too much, does she? Or am I biased as a mother?”

“No. You are not biased. She doesn’t ask for much. But that makes things difficult sometimes. I do want to give.”

“I don’t know if she wants it. But if you give her some indulgence, I’d be very happy.”

“Indulgence?”

“Pamper her. Indulge her. Let her have her way. Something I never had time or resource to do. I was too busy earning enough, saving enough to pay for her studies and career.”

“For someone who doesn’t expect much, how difficult can pampering her be? Rest assured, Mrs. Banerjee. And there was something I wanted to tell you.”

“Go ahead.”

“Thank you. Thanks a lot for understanding me and my issues. You might have done it for your daughter, but you have done me a much, much bigger favour.”

“Oh my God! What is this Dr. Khanna?” Rupali was wide-eyed with surprise. Or was it shock?

“What?” He got worried.

“This house… What have you done to it? It looks like a five star hotel.” Rupali’s surprise was not misplaced. The interiors of Paritosh’ house was completely redone and it looked nothing like a normal house in the faculty quarter of the institute. The decor, the furniture, the design, everything reminded Rupali of the time when she had been to Cathy’s parents’ house in the US. They were super-rich and she had felt completely out of place there. But in comparison to even that, Paritosh’ house seemed constrained only by the size. And he had no control over size. It was a standard house all the senior faculty members were allotted.

Paritosh was laughing at her describing the house as a five star hotel. “That isn’t a bad thing, is it?” he had asked in amusement.

“No… I guess…” she was still stupefied.

“Come with me. I have something for you.”

She followed him to his bedroom and her eyes widened, when he opened a small box containing a pair of earrings for her.

“Oh my God! These are not…”

“Not?”

“Diamonds?”

“As a matter of fact, these are.”

“Oh!”

“You don’t like them?” a cloud appeared over his face.

Rupali realized that her reaction had been lukewarm. She quickly flashed a smile, “I love them. I was just… I don’t know… taken by surprise?”

“Will you try them?”

“Sure.” She hoped that he would offer to put them on her. But the expectation of a story-book romance won’t do with him, would it? That was not why she had fallen for him. She went to the dresser to change her ear-rings. She took the one she was wearing on her left ear out. But before she could put in the new ones, Paritosh walked up to her and stopped her.

“May I?” he asked softly.

Her heart leapt. She nodded nervously trying hard to hide her blush. But it couldn’t be hidden by the time he had finished putting on both the rings. He wasn’t complaining about it. It was gratifying to know that he had that effect on her.

There was something she wasn’t comfortable about, but which she could not put her hands on, and which he didn’t realize.

To be continued

Hopeless Hope (Part 12)

Posted 2 CommentsPosted in English, Original, Rupali-Paritosh

When she saw her daughter’s bloodshot eyes, obviously from crying, it wasn’t easy for her to not to say or do anything. But she left Paritosh in her room and came back without saying anything. Rupali was looking at them with puzzle, uncertainty and fear in her eyes. Despite the successful operation, Mouli could not let go of a nagging feeling that she won’t survive for long. She was going to leave Rupali alone. If she found love and guardianship in Paritosh, what could be better than that? But for that to happen, she had to let them resolve their issues themselves. She had given the push she could. She had tried to help Paritosh overcome his insecurities. Rupali didn’t seem to have any issues. If anything she was too sure of whom she wanted in her life. So sure that she couldn’t move on even when faced with the possibility that she might never get him. She sent up a silent prayer for her daughter’s happiness and lied down on the bed. Weakness and exhaustion put her to sleep despite her mental anxiety about what would be the outcome of Paritosh’ and Rupali’s meeting.

After her mother left, Rupali miserably looked around the room, trying to fix her eyes anywhere but at Paritosh.

“Rupali…”

“Why are you here now? I hate you,” she turned away from him.

“Do you?” he could not help smiling, despite feeling wretched for her as well as himself.

She did not reply and Paritosh realized that she had started crying again, silently this time. He went around so that he could stand facing her. He wiped her tears with his hands and said gently, “Please stop crying. I know I have been an idiot, a jerk. But I should be the one suffering for it. Not you.”

“I have been doomed to suffer since the day I attended your first class. I wish I had never met you.”

“I hope… I sincerely hope what you have said is not true, Rupali. That you are not doomed to suffer because of me. Because if that is true, how would I ever ask you for your love, company and friendship? I have no doubt that our not meeting would have made no difference in your life. If anything, you might have been happier than you would ever be with me. But for me… my life would have been a dead end forever. I would never have known what it is like to love and be loved.”

“You would have liked that better, wouldn’t you? After all someone as frivolous and fickle as me could not be serious.”

“I’m sorry. I am so sorry, Rupali. For every time I have misunderstood you. For every moment I mistrusted you. Punish me whichever way you want, but don’t keep it in your heart, please.”

“I never blamed you for mistrusting me earlier. But how could you not trust these nights? How could you be so grossly unfair?

“I wasn’t thinking straight Rupali. My mind was too clouded; I was too misguided in my beliefs…”

“What has brought about this change of heart anyway? What did Ma tell you? Did she beg you accept me or what?” her face contorted. She obviously detested the idea. But she thought it quite probable.

“She only helped me understand myself, Rupali.”

“Just go away Dr. Khanna. I don’t want to talk to you.ow H”

“I will go away. I will be miserable, but I will go away, because I deserve the misery. But only if you promise and convince me that you won’t cry.”

“Fine. I promise,” she turned away and immediately started crying again.

“Oh God! Please Rupali,” he held her hand and turned her around, “What do I do to…” And in desperation he went down on his knees. “Please forgive me Rupali and give us another chance.”

“What are you doing?” Rupali was stunned by his gesture, “Please get up.” She was miserable and mortified. But he didn’t get up and remained there with his head bowed. She looked at him in desperate silence for a few moments. Then she too went down on her knees to face him. “Don’t do this. Please Dr. Khanna. I’m… I could not let go of you, even when you shunned me. How could I do so when you were ready to accept me? You didn’t need to do this. I would have come around by morning. Or probably the moment you had stepped out of this room…”

“You would have,” he looked at her and said in calm and collected voice now, “But I have to pay for what I have done to you. I have to be punished…”

“For the first time, Dr. Khanna, I got a chance to act out before you,” she smiled through her tears, “And I got carried away. I don’t want you to pay for anything. Or punish you… What could I possibly gain from that…”

“Then act out as much as you want, to your heart’s content.” He smiled back lovingly. They got up together. He cupped her face and caressed it for a moment before pulling her in his embrace. She happily obliged and responded. Tears started flowing again from her eyes, but this time in happiness and relief.

Rupali had peeped into her mother’s room after seeing Paritosh off. She was asleep. So, they met only in the morning. While Rupali had hardly been able to sleep with excitement and was out of the bed rather early, Mouli woke up later than usual. Her weak and tired body needed to make up for the exertion of the night. She immediately sought Rupali out on waking up. Rupali was having tea and breakfast in her room.

“Good morning, Ma. How are you? I was getting late, so didn’t wait for you for breakfast.”

“No problem, sweetie. But you tell me first. How are you?”

Rupali smiled nervously and blushed slightly. “I am fine, Ma. And I am sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“For what I had been doing.”

“I wish I had known sooner, Rupa.”

“Ma,” Rupali averted her eyes, “I was ashamed of myself. I was behaving very irresponsibly. I didn’t have the heart to tell you.”

Mouli looked sadly at her daughter. She was so terrified of being irresponsible, of letting her mother down. She deserved to relax a little. Hopefully in Paritosh’ company, she would be able to do that. Sometimes Mouli could not help wondering who felt more responsible for the other. She towards her daughter, or her daughter towards her.

“I have seen a little bit more of the world than you have, Rupa. I could have helped you.” Rupali nodded and didn’t say anything. Mouli spoke again, “There is something I want to tell you now. He is older than you and more mature. I can see that you respect him a lot. You probably think that he always knows better and is sure about things. That would be true most of the time. You would do well to listen to his advice when there is a difference of opinion between you. But as far as the power equation of this relationship is concerned, he is the one who is insecure. He has a past to deal with. He is the one concerned that he might be too old for you and that he may not live up to your expectations. Observe those signs of insecurities and make sure that you assure him of his insecurities being misplaced. I am not asking you to go overboard and make a speech about it every now and then. It is more subtle than that. I’m sure you understand, don’t you?”

Rupali mulled over it for a while and then said, “I think I do. Thanks Ma. I had never thought of it this way.” It dawned on her that what she had seen as his attempts at shunning her, were in reality his self-defence; an attempt to stop himself from dreaming too much and getting hurt when the dreams went unfulfilled.

“God bless you my child,” Mouli patted her head, “Now hurry up. You are getting late, aren’t you?”

“Your medicines and breakfast…”

“Don’t bother. Pammi would be here any moment,” she referred to their house help, “She will make me the breakfast.”

“And Ma,” Rupali added hesitantly and with slight blush, “I may… have to go out… for dinner tonight…”

“Have to?” Mouli laughed, “You want to darling. And you don’t have to take my permission.”

Rupali grinned and went out.

“Wow! You still have the BMW?” Rupali exclaimed when Paritosh came to pick her up for dinner.

“What do you mean?”

“The last I had seen it was…” she left the sentence incomplete. He would know that she was talking about the last time they had gone for dinner. “I never saw you driving it recently. I thought you had sold it off.”

“No. I just bought a regular car. BMW is overkill for day to day driving.”

This was special driving, all right. But what struck her was something else. All those years back, she hadn’t thought much about him driving a luxury car. The entire world had seemed buyable then once you ‘started working’. But she knew better now. A professor’s salary was hardly enough to get loan for a sedan. BMW!! And then another car. Was he that rich? And extravagant? But her thoughts were soon occupied with his black suit, in which he looked so graceful and handsome. Was it the same one as the last time? Or given his casual purchase of a car, had he bought a few dozens since then?

He drove to the same restaurant. Not much had changed in its decor or menu. There couldn’t have been an environment more conducive for a déjà vu. Or rather one for bringing the memories back. When the headwaiter gave them options for the tables they could have, Paritosh chose the same one they were seated on last time. Rupali was nervous and excited at the same time.

“Do you drink?” he asked her when they were handed the menu.

She smiled slightly and nodded. Then without waiting for him she called the waiter, “Two mojitos, please.”

He laughed slightly, “You remember?”

“You do too, it seems.”

“Yes. I remember. I remember everything,” he said somberly, “I remember that you had said you’d come back after Ph. D. and you did!”

“Why are you looking so sad about it?”

“Not sad, Rupali. Thoughtful.”

To be continued

Hopeless Hope (Part 11)

Posted 2 CommentsPosted in English, Original, Rupali-Paritosh

“The moon is up, Dr. Khanna. It is not a dark night. The world is not silhouettes and outlines. You can’t escape it,” Rupali did not open the gate, even though that was only a nominal barrier. Both of them stood taller than the low grill gate, as they talked.

“Yes,” his spoke in a mortified voice, “It was idiotic on my part to even try and escape it. I am sorry, Rupali. I am really sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“For dragging you into this bizarre foolish business. I don’t know what I was thinking. Probably I wasn’t thinking at all…”

“Bizarre yes. But foolish it wasn’t for me. What is your problem?”

“It is wrong, Rupali.”

“I have heard that before, and I had silently accepted that. But you can’t keep doing this to yourself and to me, Dr. Khanna. What is wrong?”

“You are so young Rupali.”

“I am not a minor. I am an adult and can take my decisions.”

“I’m an old, married man. My life is at a dead end.”

“It doesn’t have to.”

“But it is.”

“Why? I know you care for your wife. And I admire you so much for that. But do you love her so much that you can’t move on?”

“It’s not about me. It is about you, Rupali,” he said in a small voice.

“What about me?”

“I have told you that I am no longer angry about it. But when I had first come to know about the bet, I hadn’t acted sportingly. And you seem to be carrying the guilt and remorse since then. You don’t have to be stuck on it, or on me. You have a life full of possibilities before you. Go live it. I can’t punish you life-long for a small childish prank.”

Paritosh found her eyes downcast and she didn’t speak for a while. He assumed that she agreed with him and started moving away, when she finally spoke, “What you have been punishing me all these years for, Dr. Khanna, is a mistake I never made.” Her voice was low and sad, but firm.

“Excuse me?”

“You are so wise, so mature. How could you not see it, Dr. Khanna? It never was a bloody bet. It was never a bet, never a prank. Could you never see it? Not even in all these years? Not after all these years?”

“You are not serious, Rupali,” his voice quivered. He needed a confirmation.

“No. Why would I be serious?” she mistook his question to be a serious objection, “When have I ever been serious? Has there been anything serious in how much I respected you? Nor was I serious in admiring you for how nice, caring and generous you were. I wasn’t serious when I was so affected by your pain, your hurt that I desperately wanted to do something to ease it, wipe it off. I wasn’t serious when I was desperately trying to tell you that what you had heard in the lab that night was a gross misunderstanding. Yes! There had been a bet in a moment of frivolity that you are so willing to excuse. But I had long forgotten about it. But no. Why should that matter? I wasn’t serious, when minute by minute, day by day I was falling in love with you. And I wasn’t serious when in last six years in US I had tried hard to move on from you, from my heartbreak, but had failed miserably. I wasn’t serious when I had followed everything about you obsessively, so obsessively that everyone, all my friends, if I could ever make one, had given up on me. The most concerned ones sent me to a psychiatrist and he kept telling me how unhealthy all of this was. Still, I could not get over it. There was absolutely, nothing serious in any of it. And since coming here… No. Nothing. Zilch. Zero. No seriousness at all. I have been playing pranks with you, with myself, with my life, with my mother who worries so much about me and my future. How can I be serious? Running out of the house at midnight to spend those few moments with you which you would not grant me in daylight. It has all been a game for me, I have been immature, I have been an idiot and I, of course, don’t care about you. How can I be serious?”

She broke into a sob and stepped back. Just then Paritosh noticed someone stepping out of the verandah. Even if it had been a dark night, it wouldn’t have been a rocket science to guess who it was. But there was no need to guess. He saw Mouli very clearly and flushed with embarrassment. He was already regretting his visit to her in the morning. And now this. With Rupali crying. What an impression he was going to create on her? All his life, his reputation was all he had earned. Whatever be his personal miseries, nobody ever got a chance to point fingers at his public conduct or his behaviour with others. And now. In one stroke, he had undone it. But no. It wasn’t even one stroke that he could blame momentary lapse of judgement for it. He had been building up to his destruction and still he had not stopped himself.

Rupali turned her back at him to walk into the house and stopped in her tracks on seeing her mother. She got sick with worry.

“Ma. What happened? Are you all right?” she stopped crying from the shock of seeing her mother.

“I am fine. But obviously you are not,” Mouli replied.

“Ma.” Once assured of her wellbeing, Rupali’s own grief overwhelmed her again and tears came back.

Paritosh stood glued to his spot feeling foolish and mortified.

“Why don’t you open the gate and let Paritosh in?” Mouli said.

“I won’t.”

“This is no way to handle the problems, Rupa.”

“There is nothing to be handled, Ma. Please. Let’s go inside. This is no time for you to remain awake.”

“Open the gate for him and go inside. To your room.” Her voice was commanding this time and Rupali could not disobey. She walked to the gate, opened it and mumbled in a steely voice, “I will never forgive you if something happened to Ma.” Then she turned back without waiting for him or Mouli and went to her room. She started sobbing again once inside her room. Why this mess? What had she done to deserve this? Probably all the admonitions of her psychiatrist were correct. It wasn’t his American view of things that didn’t understand her love. Her feelings were indeed hopeless and unhealthy.

Meanwhile Paritosh walked in slowly, although he would have liked nothing better than running away from there and hiding in some remote corner of the world, where nobody could find and question him. But as Mouli had so wisely said, that was no way to handle the problems.

“Tell me more about yourself,” Mouli said after they were seated in the hall, Paritosh’ head bowed. He wasn’t able to meet her eyes.

“Excuse me?” He looked up surprised. He was expecting to be blasted, insulted, blamed, preached, questioned; anything but asked more about himself.

“My daughter has driven herself crazy after you, Paritosh. And from the little I heard, it has been the case for several years now. It is only fair that I should like to know more about you than I do.”

Paritosh took a deep breath before replying. His head was bowed again as he spoke, “I don’t even want to imagine what the circumstances make me look like. But I am not as bad a person, as I currently appear Mrs. Banerjee. I will never be able to justify some of the things I have done recently, but if anybody has to suffer for my mistakes it has to be me.”

“I heard your objections Paritosh. You said you were married. I hope my daughter is not foolish enough to be in love with a married man and try to make it work. I hope there is more to it… I haven’t seen your wife and you never spoke about her either.”

“Right,” he could see that Mouli was getting impatient with his ramblings and worried about her daughter, she was more interested in getting facts. Briefly he told her about his wife.

“I am sorry,” Mouli felt for him. She had known the pain of loneliness all her life. “I appreciate your care for your wife, Paritosh. But I hope you understand that there is nothing wrong in you moving on.”

“No. There isn’t, I guess.”

“Then? Are her feelings one-sided? It seems unlikely, otherwise what were you doing here at this hour?”

Paritosh rubbed his face with his palms and let out a sigh, “No. I had thought mine to be one-sided. And misunderstood her repeatedly. But either way, I am ashamed of myself for how I feel.”

“Why?”

“I… am… surprised that you are asking me that, Mrs. Banerjee. She has been my student. She is so much younger to me…”

“I know,” Mouli interrupted and looked thoughtful for a moment. She was trying to gather her thoughts. “But Paritosh. She is not an idiot and you are not unscrupulous. I can see that much.”

“I have tried not to be. Although I am afraid I have failed miserably at times. Otherwise this would not have happened.”

“Paritosh. I have seen a bit of the world. And the relationships. The most unusual, unexpected ones sometimes become most successful. And the ones everyone looks forward to may fall apart. Because at the end of the day, what the world thinks essential does not matter in a relationship. Only the two people making the relationship matter. If the two of you can find happiness with each other, why should anything else matter?”

“This… comes from… such an unexpected quarter that I don’t know what to say. Forget about me, are you convinced that she has made the right decision for herself?”

Mouli sighed, “We – mother & daughter – are close. But it is a strange closeness. She doesn’t always talk to me. So, I don’t know what is going on in her mind. However, she hasn’t made wrong decisions for herself for most part. She has grown up fatherless, Paritosh. She has seen me struggle as a single parent. I think she grew mature for her age. I never had to scold her for her studies. For anything, in fact. She never asked for extra pocket-money, never got into any kind of trouble. She has been responsible since she was fairly young. So, when I don’t see anything obviously wrong, I trust her decisions.”

Paritosh sighed and appeared to be contemplating on what Mouli said.

“And Paritosh,” Mouli added as an afterthought, “As I told you, she has grown fatherless. She didn’t even have a father-figure in her life. Her uncle was too young, and at best like an older brother to her. So, I would not be surprised, if she looks for maturity and responsibility in her life partner. It is possible that you being older is not only not a negative, but actually a positive for her, although she doesn’t probably consciously think about it this way. And one final thing… I have never seen her cry this badly. Not when her exams went bad, or when she hurt herself physically, not even when she had been told as six-year old that her beloved Baba would never ever come back home…” Mouli looked like she was reliving the time of her husband’s death. Sadness and pain obvious on her face.

Her words jolted Paritosh out of his thoughts. She had been crying so piteously. And he was busy resolving his own confusions! He stood up suddenly, “Mrs. Banerjee. With everything that has already happened, there is hardly any pretence of appropriateness left. Can I please meet her? Where is her room?”

Mouli nodded and got up herself, “I will take you there.”

To be continued

Hopeless Hope (Part 10)

Posted 3 CommentsPosted in English, Original, Rupali-Paritosh

“Beautiful night! Sombre mother of Day!
Scarcely less resplendent and delightful,
And even more mysteriously lovely!”

Paritosh recited a poem sitting on Rupali’s verandah.

“You wrote that?” Rupali asked.

“No. It is by somebody called C. B. Langston. Had read it on Internet. Don’t know anything about the poet though.”

“But it must have been written for a night like this.”

“Hmm…”

“Why did you fall in love with night, Dr. Khanna?”

“It obscures everything I don’t want to see. What remains are silhouettes, outlines… You can fill them with your imaginations. Your imaginations can be as happy as you want.”

“I had never thought I would find night so attractive?”

“Why did you fall in love with it?”

“Because it started giving me what I couldn’t have at any other time.”

“But night is ephemeral. It won’t last. Nor would anything it gives you.”

“So is the day. What is not ephemeral?” She bent and rested her head on his knees, “But while the night lasts, it is a bliss.”

She felt his hands patting and caressing her head. She was woken up by him after a while. She did not know what time it was. He whispered to her, “Close the gate after me. Sleep well.”

“You write poetry, don’t you Dr. Khanna?”

“How do you know?”

“When I asked you yesterday if the poem was yours, you weren’t surprised. So, it could have been yours.”

Paritosh would have laughed. But he couldn’t make that kind of noise at night. So, he controlled it to a chuckle. “Very clever, Dr. Banerjee.”

“Recite something for me, please.”

“Poets are known to be narcissists, who write boring stuff and think very clever of themselves.”

“I wish… The only one I know is so full of self-doubt that… Anyway. Recite one, please.”

“It’s in Hindi.”

“I understand Hindi.”

“मन के पीछे चलने वाले,
मन के साथ भटकना होगा।

हाँ, अभी देखी थी मन ने
रंग-बिरंगी-सी वह तितली
फूल-फूल पे भटक रही थी
जाने किसकी खोज में पगली।

पर वह पीछे छूट गई है
इन्द्रधनुष जो वह सुन्दर है
अब उसको ही तकना होगा।”

(Author’s Note: If you don’t read or understand Hindi, please see the transliteration and translation in the previous post)

She stayed silent for a moment, then asked, “You believe that, Dr. Khanna?”

“Here. Now. In this world. I do.”

He leaned towards her and put his arms around her. She was sleeping on his shoulders, when he woke her up. “Close the gate after me, Rupali. Good night.”

“This coolness in air,
Tranquillity, silence so rare,
No concerns, not a care,
Dreams and imaginations flare.

Who are those unfortunate creatures,
Who lose their peace at night?
A thousand sunny days cannot
Match up to a moment this bright.”

“This one is yours,” Rupali declared.

“How do you know?”

“I just know.”

“You are so sure?”

“Now I am.”

“Now?”

“If it wasn’t, you would have objected as soon as I claimed it was yours. In the true spirit of avoiding plagiarism and giving accurate citations.”

Paritosh chuckled.

“I am dead serious,” Rupali pouted and although he could not see it, he could feel it.

“I’m sure you are.”

“I tried finding poems about night on Internet. But most people, including poets, seem to find nights gloomy.”

“Why don’t you write one yourself?”

“I don’t have the talent.”

“You have the heart. Don’t worry about rhyming or techniques. People like us don’t have to adorn the pages of literary textbooks.”

It was her turn to chuckle, “I guess not.”

He put his arms around her and pulled her closer, “We can write for ourselves.”

“And for each other,” she mumbled as her heavy eyelids closed. The next thing she remembered was being woken up by him. Her head had been resting on his chest. “Close the door, Rupali. And go to your bed.”

And so the days… rather the nights went by. It had been over a week since Rupali and Paritosh had met accidentally after midnight. And effect of their surreal nightly meetings was evident in how she felt the entire day. Happy, spirited. Despite the fact that the entire week she hadn’t seen him during the day at all. After the first night, she had thought of meeting him the first thing in the morning. But then she had remembered. “There is a beautiful, peaceful world we see here, Rupali. But it would be impossible to recreate it in the morning.” She didn’t think so. But if he did, what choice did she have except to respect it? She would not see him during the day unless absolutely necessary.

If she told her psychiatrist in US about this, he’d definitely declare them both unstable and in the need of psychiatric care. Probably he’d be right. But she didn’t care. She was happy and she wanted to be happy.

But the world of dreams could not last forever. It was close to six in the evening. She was about to leave, but had some administrative work to take care of. Meher was not at her seat and she had to wait for her. When Meher came back, she was visibly disturbed.

“Everything all right?” Rupali asked her.

“I don’t know Dr. Banerjee. What has come upon Dr. Khanna?”

“What about Dr. Khanna?” she was immediately alarmed.

“The last few months that he has been here, I have never seen him shouting at anyone, scolding anyone. Have you?”

“No. Never. Not even earlier.”

“And for last few days, he is getting on everyone’s nerves. Including mine and other staff. Scolding them for even slightest of what he considers oversight. He blasted me over a small spelling mistake in a letter right now. My ‘there’ and ‘their’ got mixed up.”

“Oh! That’s odd…”

“I am irritated right now. But if you ask me, I worry more for him. Something is terribly wrong with him. Anyway. Why am I boring you with all this? Just another day at work. You were waiting for me?”

“Uh… Yeah,” Rupali had difficulty remembering what she had come for, because her mind was busy trying to make sense of what Meher had told her about Paritosh just now. Why was he so disturbed? “These are some reimbursement claims,” she handed the papers to Meher, “Will you take care of them?”

“Sure.”

Rupali quickly signed the forms Meher asked her to and rushed to Paritosh’ office. The sight of him disconcerted her. He hadn’t shaven for at least two to three days. His usually impeccable clothes were crumpled. His eyes were red.

“Rupali?”

There was one thing about him, which would be obvious to anyone who met him then, but which Meher had not told her. He was drunk. And not one serving of a cocktail that wouldn’t have any effect on him. He was really drunk.

A stupefied, angry and perplexed Rupali did not stay there to ask for and receive any explanations. She turned back and ran away from there.

“Rupa. Is everything all right?” Mouli enquired with concern when Rupali came home. She had stayed in her office long enough to get a hold on her emotions. Even though it meant risking leaving her mother alone. The nurse had left at her usual time. She didn’t think her countenance gave anything away about her inner turmoil. Why was her mother so concerned then?

“Yes Ma. What happened? Why did you ask that?”

“Nothing. I… just…I think I sometimes worry too much these days.”

“Don’t do that Ma. And Ma. Now you can walk a little right? I will introduce you to the wives of some faculty members here. You can visit them, or invite them when I am not here. Staying alone with the nurse can’t be too good for you.”

“Paritosh spends some time with me every day.”

“That’s great.”

Mouli noticed a subtle change in her daughter when she mentioned Paritosh. Something was indeed wrong.

“Actually Rupa…”

“What is it, Ma?”

“Paritosh was acting strange today. He asked me so many times how you were doing and whether there was any reason to worry about you. If anything, I had noticed that you were very happy for last few days. So, I didn’t understand him. But he looked so glum and asked so many times without offering any explanation for his concern that I got worried.”

“What?” Now Rupali was positively angry at Paritosh. Had he come like that to her mother? Drunk, unshaven, asking questions that worried her? What was he thinking? “That’s unacceptable, Ma. He shouldn’t have worried you like that. I will ask him to stop seeing you.”

“Don’t do anything like that. He is a complete gentleman. I think he needs help. Something is matter with him.”

“Possibly Ma. But I can’t have you getting worried. It is not good for your health.”

“I won’t worry from now on, I promise. Don’t fret now. He is your boss. Don’t fight with him.”

To be continued

Hopeless Hope (Part 9)

Posted Leave a commentPosted in English, Original, Rupali-Paritosh

Rupali wiped her tears and suppressed her moans as she turned in the bed again. If it hadn’t been for the bet disaster, he’d still have shooed her away. Because it was wrong in his books. Was that any consolation though? Were her choices always to be restricted between two painful options?

“Paritosh had come today,” Mouli informed Rupali when she came back from her office.

“Dr. Khanna? Why?”

“Just to give me company.”

“Did you get your afternoon nap?”

“Yes,” she smiled, “He had already asked me my routine the other day and had come before the time for my nap. He will come again tomorrow.”

“Okay…” Rupali was confused. Why would he do that? Why wouldn’t he tell her if he was planning to meet her mother?

“He is a nice man.”

Yes. That he was. And it was his nicety that was her undoing. He had a led lonely, unfulfilled life. Many professors in those circumstances were known to take their frustrations out on students. They’d fail half the class at their whim. Not Paritosh. He was aloof, he was professional, he appeared strict to everyone other than Rupali. But he was not harsh, he was not bitter. He had been nice to his unreasonable mother. He was nice to his mentally disturbed wife. He was nice to the security guard of the department. Rupali could figure out that the jacket and watch he wore once belonged to Paritosh. He had never shouted at an administrative staff. He was nice, heart-wrenchingly nice, to her. Now he was being nice to her mother. As a young faculty member, she was often saddled with a lot of non-academic, administrative work. So, getting away during office hours and working from home was often not possible for her. Paritosh had more freedom, despite his administrative duties as the HOD. And he had done the perfect favour to her. She worried about her mother when she couldn’t be with her. He had decided to give her company. She could be at peace. On her mother’s count at least.

But on his count? There could be no peace for her there. She couldn’t move on. And she couldn’t tell him. He thought it was wrong. If he had been a frustrated teacher, who was unfairly harsh to his students, if he had been mistreated his wife instead of caring for her, if he had been unscrupulous and had tried to take advantage of her – an emotionally vulnerable, young student, if he had begrudged her an old misunderstanding and had created problems for her as her boss, which he very easily could, if he had done any of this, if he hadn’t been this nice man he was, if he hadn’t helped her in her most tumultuous times despite thinking that she had played him for a bet, she would have been able to move on. She might never have fallen for him in the first place.

But that was not the case. He was a nice man. And she had fallen so hard for this sad, lonely, but nice man there was no getting up for her.

She remembered the time from her student life, when there was a tussle between administration and students about the rules guiding student’s behaviour on the campus. Several biggies in the administration felt that the students were given too much of freedom. They wanted to curb the hours in which they go out of the hostels or campus. Students were vehemently against such rules.

Rupali was surprised when in one of her meetings he had brought up the issue. “So, who is winning? Students or the administration?” He had asked somewhat playfully.

“Why? Are you acting as a spy?” she had also replied in jest.

“Spy? For whom?”

“For the administration, who else?”

“Ah! You presume that I side with them.”

“Don’t you?” As someone who had obeyed his parents all his life, whether it was in the decisions related to his career, or his marriage, she didn’t think he would have very liberal views about how youngsters should be treated.

“The problem with our administrators is that they start seeing themselves as parents, instead of teachers. And Indian parents are obsessive about controlling the lives of their kids. Their intentions are usually honourable, but not necessarily right.”

“What are the honourable, but wrong intentions?” she had been intrigued.

“They are terrified about the outcomes of uninformed actions. What if they make a mistake, they keep asking. Our parents and our administrators. Point is, how else would one grow, if not by experimenting? This shielding, this care becomes stifling very soon.”

“Wow! None of us were thinking so logically about it. If we did, we’d have a better chance in succeeding against the administration.”

“Then do so.”

“Yes. Of course. But I must say, you would make one cool father, Dr. Khanna.”

The smile on his face had been sad and for a moment, his eyes had looked lost. Was he thinking about the baby they had lost? He only talked about the incident from Amrit’s point of view, what it did to her. But what about him?

There was only one thing he was not nice towards. Feelings. Hers, and his own! Knowingly, or unknowingly, he tortured them, punished them. Ruthlessly.

There was a small open space in front of her house. The boundary around it was a low one and anyone walking on the road could have seen her or jumped in. But the campus was a secure place. There was nothing to be afraid of even late at night. She paced up and down in front of her house. A few minutes later, she saw someone walking down the road. While it wouldn’t have been surprising near student hostels, it was a rare sight in the faculty quarters for someone to be out so late at night. Who was it? And whosoever it was, given the direction he was coming from, he wasn’t returning from outside or from an office in the campus. He was coming out of his or someone else’s house. For a moment she wondered if she’d discover some scandalous story of an extra-marital affair. But as the distant figure came closer, she realized that nothing like that was going to happen. Most certainly, it was Dr. Khanna. Should she stay there and risk getting noticed by him? Or should she go inside the house? But why the hell was he out on the road at this hour? Her curiosity got the better of her, and she decided to stay. She, in fact, waited for him near the gate of her house. His strides were long and it didn’t take him much time to reach there. He stopped in his tracks when he saw someone standing at the gate of her house. He feared an intruder initially, but was soon able to make out that it was Rupali herself. She was looking at him. He thought for a moment. Then instead of going further down the road, he came to her.

“Rupali. What are you doing here?”

She chuckled slightly, “You are forgetting that you are standing at the gate of my house. I should be the one asking this.”

“Still. It is quite late. Past midnight. Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Same to you.”

He sighed, “Mrs. Banerjee is fine?”

“You have met her yourself today.”

“Of course. But I got worried when I saw you awake. I wondered if something went wrong since then…”

“No. She is fine. I was unable to sleep and was tired of tossing and turning in the bed. So, decided to come out and get some fresh air.”

He smiled, “And I was tired of even getting the fresh air near my house. So, I decided to take a walk down the road.”

“Why don’t you come in?” She started opening the gate.

“At this hour?” he was hesitant.

“Well!” What harm could it do?

“Okay,” he acquiesced.

“Let’s not go inside. We can sit here and continue getting some fresh air,” he said when she made to open the door of the house.

“Okay.”

They sat down on the steps leading to the open verandah. It was a surreal experience. It was a cool and dark night. The moon hadn’t risen yet. The only source of light was street lamps. They were not in the direct sight. So, only the silhouettes of the things around them could be made out.

“There is a beautiful, peaceful world we see here, Rupali,” he spoke after a while, “But it would be impossible to recreate it in the morning. It would be difficult to even imagine, then, that the world could be like this. This world can only exist at night, in darkness, in dreams…  It slips away when the sun rises and the real world wakes up. And we can do nothing about it.”

“We can’t?” she asked, her voice sounding dreamy.

“No. Because it is that world, which feeds us, which supports us and with which we live and grow. We can do without this world, but not that. What we have to aspire for is finding peace and happiness in that world.”

“And when that is not possible, can’t we just steal some time away from the night and live in this world? Even if in the morning, we have to return to the world that feeds us?”

“If we did that, we’d lose sleep and be tired in the morning,” a hint of amusement had slipped into his voice.

“We can compensate with an afternoon nap,” she also replied in the same vein.

He let out a small laugh; then asked, “You don’t have a class tomorrow, right?”

“No. And you?”

“Me neither.”

“Great.”

They fell silent again. Paritosh leaned against the wall after a while for support.

“Rupali. Get up,” the next thing she remembered was Paritosh waking her up. She had fallen asleep on his knees. But he wasn’t acting panicked or scandalized. She also got up calmly as if it was the most natural thing for her to do. Sleeping on his knees! “It’s almost three in the morning. I will leave. Close the gate behind me, then go inside and sleep in your bed. Okay?”

To be continued