Hopeless Hope (Part 8)

Posted 4 CommentsPosted in English, Original, Rupali-Paritosh

“It’s so nice to meet you finally, Dr. Khanna,” Mouli welcomed him warmly, “I have been hearing about you since Rupa was a student.”

“Really?” he was genuinely surprised.

“Yes. I was expecting to meet you during her convocation. But you had left by then. Looks like I had to come at death’s door to finally meet you.”

She was weak physically, but her mental faculty were all alert. Her sense of humour had not disappeared either. But Paritosh looked at Rupali’s pale face at the mention of the death and he could not enjoy the dark humour.

“Please don’t talk like that Mrs. Banerjee. It worries Rupali.”

She looked at her daughter sadly and then nodded.

“I’ll get some tea,” Rupali said feeling strangely uncomfortable and went out of the room.

“Dr. Khanna…”

“Please call me Paritosh.”

Mouli smiled, “All right. Paritosh. You were with her through all this. Only you can tell me. Was she too worried?”

Worried was too mild a word for Rupali’s condition through the ordeal. But it would do no good to reveal that to her sick mother.

“Of course, she was worried Mrs. Banerjee. But she is strong.” Did he sound convincing enough?

Apparently no. Because Mouli smiled patronizingly at that reply, “You don’t want to worry me, it seems. Noble intentions. I wish she hadn’t come back from US. I hate to see her going through this. I didn’t want her to see me so weak.”

“And that would have been very unfair to her. Do you realize what kind of guilt she would have lived with?”

Mouli frowned as if trying to think hard over what he said. “Never thought of it that way. I guess you are right.”

“I am,” Paritosh smiled genially, “And now you should stop worrying. That would be of no help to your health or Rupali’s mental peace.”

“I am glad she has a friend in you,” Mouli said sincerely.

Rupali came back with tea and snacks just then. Her hands trembled for a second as he offered tea to Paritosh. The tea didn’t spill, but Mouli noticed the trembling and looked thoughtful.

“I know I am sounding like an old mother,” she told Rupali later that evening after Paritosh had left, “But I really worry about you, Rupa. You’d be alone after me.”

“Don’t talk about ‘after you’ Ma. Your surgery has been successful.”

“I have gotten a fresh lease of life, no doubt. But it isn’t a long lease sweetie. You know that I don’t like prodding you for information. But let’s say that I am getting desperate. Do you have no one in your life?”

“No Ma. No one. Now stop talking, have your food and medicines and go to bed.”

“You could meet some people. Your Kaku has been…”

“No Ma. Don’t let Kaku get to you, or me, please. I am not interested in meeting anyone. Let me get your food.”

Mouli thought of a trembling hand from that evening. And that trembling voice on the day of her convocation. “You can’t meet Dr. Khanna, Ma. He has apparently left the institute and gone to someplace in Delhi.”

Rupali also thought of the past, but of a day about a month before the convocation. She had given the final presentation for her project and it had gone well as expected. “Well done, Rupali,” he had smiled when a beaming Rupali had gone to his office that evening. “I would be surprised, if you didn’t get the best project award.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“So all set for the next phase of your life? End semester exams would hardly be a worry for you. How many admits and scholarship offers do you have in hand? Four?”

“Five,” she had blushed.

“Where are you going finally?”

“Stanford, as you had suggested.”

“That’s great. There isn’t a better place to be in for a Computer Scientist. All the great work is happening in Bay area these days. You would do very well.”

“Thank you, Sir. And a special thanks for your recommendations. It wouldn’t have happened without that.”

“A well-deserved one. I think today is the day to celebrate. Are you free in the evening?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Let’s go for a dinner. Any place you want.”

She had been pleasantly surprised. Awe was the word. Oh yes! Of course. A dinner with him. A memory she’d cherish for life.

“That’s awesome!” Her eyes had shone.

Rupali in a salwaar-kameez was a rare sight, and Paritosh could recall every detail of her appearance even today. It was simple, cream dress with red borders and dupatta. But it made her look so feminine, and grown up that Paritosh’ heart had skipped a beat. He had stolen a few extra glances at her during the drive to the restaurant. He had offered to take her to a restaurant in a five-star hotel and had dressed up in a black suit to look right for the venue. He was driving a BMW. He was unaware of the extra glances that Rupali had stolen too.

“We have some good cocktails, Sir,” the waiter had encouraged him to order some alcohol.

“No. Thanks. Not today,” he had politely refused.

“Why not? I am not a minor,” she had objected.

He had chuckled at her logic, “So, do you drink?” He didn’t associate drinking with this geeky, upright girl.

“No. But so what! You do drink, right?”

“I am omnivorous, I had told you. I drink. But I am not an addict or anything. I am not going to drink with you, Rupali. And anyway, I have to drive.”

“I can drive you back.”

“You know how to drive?”

“Of course. I often drive my uncle’s car.”

“That’s great. But no drinking.”

“No. You must order something. I insist. It is on me.”

He was extremely amused, “Why are you so insistent?”

“I… don’t know,” she had spoken awkwardly. It made no sense. Probably she just wanted to feel some power over him.

She had looked dejected and Paritosh had decided to indulge her. “Fine then,” he had called the waiter and ordered a Mojito.

“I will miss this place, Dr. Khanna. And people. And friends,” she had said emotionally during their meal.

“We all do. But life moves on. All of it will soon become a distant memory.”

“I will come back after Ph. D.”

“Will you? We’ll see,” he had smiled patronizingly.

“You don’t believe me?”

“I don’t believe the time. It can do strange things to people. It can change them completely.”

“Hmm…” she had looked thoughtful.

“Not necessarily in a bad way,” he had philosophized further, “It makes you more mature, stronger, wiser. It can give you scars. But it can also make you a better person.”

She had smiled.

“I am boring you,” Paritosh had been slightly embarrassed.

“Not at all. What makes you think so?”

“You are unusually quiet.”

“I’m sure I will grow mature, stronger and wiser someday and then all this will be a distant memory. But today I am just sad and nostalgic.”

“How do we cheer you up?”

She had chuckled in embarrassment, “Now I am spoiling your evening. I think we should just enjoy this great food. The chicken is particularly tasty.”

“I thoughts Bengalis were more into fish.”

“Ah! Fish is like… potatoes. You have it at home everyday. Chicken is the real stuff,” she had grinned drawing an indulgent smile from him. “Can I ask you something personal, Dr. Khanna?” She had asked suddenly after a pause.

He had frowned for a moment, but had agreed, “Shoot.”

“You had told me that you have taken care of financial needs of your wife by investing her dowry suitably.”

“Right. So?”

“Why did you never get married again? There could be nothing objectionable about it.”

His face coloured slightly.  He looked away for a moment before looking at her again. She bit her lips. Had she overstepped her limits?

“I don’t know,” he finally said.

She nodded and did not counter-question him. They were towards the end of their meal and finished it in silence. He insisted that she ordered a dessert as well and she complied. But there was a knot in her stomach by then. She could hardly enjoy the dessert, although it was quite delicious.

Both of them made a couple of attempts at resuming conversation during the drive back. But those attempts fell flat. Rupali chided herself for asking that question. What was she thinking?

“Where should I drop you? Hostel or department?” he asked as they entered the institute’s gate.

“Department. My bag is in the lab.”

She walked around to go to him after he had parked the car and they both had gotten out of it. “Thanks for the wonderful treat,” she smiled.

“Thanks for the wonderful company,” he had replied in a tone that was not formal. Rather… What was it? Emotional. Extremely emotional. “And Rupali. I am going to miss all of this too. A lot.” She had shivered as he had come closer to her, quite unconsciously. He had cupped her face with trembling hands and leaned in. She had closed her eyes and prepared herself for the kiss, when they heard some noise in the otherwise empty parking lot. He had immediately stepped back to her utter disappointment and mumbled, “What was I doing? Go Rupali.”

She had stood frozen for a moment and he had hissed again, “Go.” She had obeyed him and while walking out had seen someone parking a two-wheeler in the parking lot. It was someone she knew. He had greeted her. But she hadn’t bothered to even see who it was. She had greeted him back mechanically and walked into the lab in a daze. Happy and confused at the same time. Happy that he reciprocated his feelings. Confused at his reaction. She was wondering how to resolve it. Should she go to his office right away? And then do what? Proclaim her love? Too cheesy? Ask him about what happened, or just did not happen in the parking lot? Too audacious? She was still struggling with all the possibilities, when Padma had walked up to her, “Congrats Rupali. You won the bet.”

“What bet?” she had been surprised.

To be continued

Hopeless Hope (Part 7)

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

The stubborn, stupid, foolish hope! You keep telling yourself that you are not hoping. But it creeps up on you, silently. It finds a cozy, comfortable home in your heart. Your mind doesn’t notice. Or decides not to notice. It is arrogant. It thinks that it can ignore the powers of hope. That it can keep it at bay. That even if some hope sneaks into your heart, it would know how to evict it. And the hope stays there. Hidden from the arrogant mind; at least not acknowledged by it. Then one day the hope, whose existence you never acknowledged, gets crushed. And it doesn’t suffer alone. With it gets crushed a part of your heart. And your mind cannot cut off the signals of pain. It can repent ignoring it all this while. But it is too late. You must suffer the pain.

Rupali suffered it that entire night. She thought she didn’t expect anything from Paritosh. That if he forgave her, that’d be more than what she wanted. How wrong was she! The hope had crept up. With his every little act of kindness, every small help, every smile and laughter, with every easy conversation…  The hope had made a small home in her heart. And it was now crushed. Crushing her heart with itself. She was in pain. He thought it was all wrong. But that wrong thing had been her lifeline.

And amidst all this, she didn’t even have her mother’s shoulders to lean on. She didn’t always discuss her problems with her mother. But she always found courage, support and peace in her presence. There was a silent understanding between them. Her mother understood it when she was in pain. She didn’t prod to know what it was, unless she was herself willing to share. But she managed to pass on a part of her quiet strength to her. The strength with which she had brought up her daughter alone. The strength with which she had kept working even after being diagnosed with critical heart problems. The strength with which she had not minded sending her only daughter away from home, and then from the country, because it was best for her career and life. “Don’t worry about me,” she had kept saying even when her illness had become really bad, “You live your life to the fullest sweetie. Your happiness is what I had promised your father on his death-bed.”

It was a wretched day. It seemed like the only way to take her mind off from one painful thought was to entertain another painful one. Ma and Dr. Khanna. Two people who were the source of all her hopes, and hopelessness. She couldn’t demand anything from Dr. Khanna. But Ma! She should come back for her.

She wasn’t back in the morning. Paritosh saw the notice announcing cancellation of her class that day. It was put up by Meher. What had happened? But he himself had to take a class at that time. So, he could talk to Meher only after an hour.

“Why was Dr. Banerjee’s class cancelled, Meher?”

“Her mother is ill and she had to be operated upon.”

“Operated?” They had said they’d keep her under observation for forty-eight hours. Did something go wrong?

“Yeah. She called this morning. She was very disturbed, obviously. I am thinking of going in the evening.”

“Meher. Can you please coordinate with director’s office and cancel my meeting with him today. Tell them that something urgent came up.”

“Sure Dr. Khanna.”

Rupali was sitting on a bench in the lobby. Sitting was hardly the right word. She was barely supporting herself with the edge of the seat. Her hands were pressed between her thighs as if they were cold and needed some warmth. As he went neared he realized that she probably did need some warmth. She was shivering. It wasn’t that cold! He remembered a jacked he usually kept in his car. He went back, got it and gently wrapped it around her shoulders. She was startled. His heart sank when she looked up at him. Her face… How terrible did she look! Her lips were dry, her cheeks hollow, her hair dishevelled and her eyes puffed from crying.

“Oh my God!” he could not help exclaiming, “What have you done to yourself? Your mother is stable. I just spoke to the doctor. But at this rate, you will fall ill yourself.”

She stayed silent and stared at the floor.

“Go and wash your face. You will feel better. You haven’t slept at all, have you? Go.” He prodded her.

She got up unwillingly. But hardly had she a taken a step that she stumbled. She was weak from all the crying. He got up hurriedly and held her to stop her from falling. Then he made her sit down.

“I will get something for you. You are so weak,” he told her gently and rushed to the small utility shop in the hospital. He picked up some juice, glucose and paper cups from there. Then he noticed a packet of wet tissue at the checkout counter and picked that up too. She obeyed him silently as he made her drink a glass each of juice and glucose water. He, then, handed her a wet tissue. “Wipe your face. You will feel better.” She looked surprised at his thoughtfulness. After a moment of hesitation, she took the tissue and wiped her face.

“What happened? Why the surgery all of a sudden?”

“Her condition was deteriorating. The blockage was severe and they were unable to do anything about it. She had only fifty percent chances of survival with surgery. But without it, she wouldn’t have survived today. I had to sign the consent form.” She looked at her hands as if she was reproaching them for putting those signatures.

“You did the right thing. And she is stable now.”

“She is breathing. But until she wakes up, there is no guarantee that she ever would. Coma, memory loss, mental disorientation are only some of the potential side effects.”

And depression for the daughter, Paritosh thought to himself. “And she would need someone to take care of her,” he told Rupali, “You don’t seem prepared for that at all.”

His reproach surprised her, but it also had the desired effect. “You are right,” she acknowledged in a small voice, “I am just drowning in self-pity. I shouldn’t.”

“Then come with me. I have spoken to the doctor. She won’t be conscious before evening. Let’s go to your home. You must take a shower and then take rest. And yes – have breakfast. We’ll get something packed on the way.”

She was thankful that he had come. But why was he doing this? Why was he making her dependent on him, fuelling the fire that was wrong according to him?

He got out of the car after pulling it over in front of her house in the campus. “Thank you,” she said with genuine gratitude, “For everything.”

In an unexpected gesture, he held her hands and pressed them, “Take care of yourself Rupali. It won’t do for you to break down.”

Rupali hated and loved him at that moment. He didn’t realize what he was doing to her, did he? He was just being a caring boss!

Mouli Banerjee was brought home. Rupali’s worst fears had not materialized. She hadn’t slipped into a coma. Although her condition was very fragile, her diet strict and she was weak. Rupali’s uncle had taken a train from Kolkata and had reached the hospital a day after the surgery. Paritosh had withdrawn on realizing that she had help. As much as she wanted him by her side, she had no reason for asking him to be, especially with her uncle present. But her uncle had to leave after a few days. His wife and young children were alone at home. “Will you be able to manage, child?” he had been concerned.

“Don’t worry Kaku. A nurse will be here, when I am not. We’d manage fine.”

“I wish I could send your Kaki here. But the little ones have their exams.”

“I understand Kaku. Don’t worry. I’d have help here if something comes up.”

“Rupali,” Paritosh stopped her as she was leaving for home that evening, “How is your mother doing?”

“Being brave. As usual,” she smiled, albeit a sad smile.

“And you?”

She averted her eyes, “I am fine, Dr. Khanna. Thanks for asking.”

“You look so drained out, Rupali. Do you want to take off for a few days?”

“Exams are at hands. I have to finish the syllabus. Excuse me, Dr. Khanna. I must head home now. My uncle has left. The nurse will leave in fifteen minutes. I need to be there before that.”

“Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. I must not detain you.”

She smiled and nodded and then made to go.

“Wait Rupali. I’ll come with you.”

She looked at him surprised.

He hesitated, “If that is fine by you.”

“Of course. Ma wants to meet you too,” she diffused the awkwardness with her enthusiastic reply.

To be continued

Hopeless Hope (Part 6)

Posted 2 CommentsPosted in English, Original, Rupali-Paritosh

“Do you want to grab something from your home before leaving?” he asked after she was seated in his car.

She shook her head, then asked as he started driving out of the institute, “Don’t you have to grab something?”

“No,” he replied plainly.

“Talk Rupali,” he said as they pulled up on the state highway. It was narrow and was not in the best condition, but it was the shortest possible route to her hometown.

“She has heart troubles and is also severely diabetic. Surgery is highly risky. So, doctors have been avoiding it. She had a bad attack today.”

“Someone is there with her?”

“I told her so many times to resign and come to stay with me. At least a good hospital would have been close-by. My aunt is there, but she herself is out of her wits. Uncle is not in town.”

Paritosh remembered that Rupali’s father had died in her childhood. Her mother worked as a lecturer in the women’s college in her town. Although she stayed with Rupali’s uncle and aunt, she had always supported herself and Rupali on her own. The house they stayed in was ancestral property.

“Then you must keep your wits together, Rupali.”

She nodded and tried to keep her tears in check.

“So, you had come back for her?” he tried to keep a conversation going.

She nodded again, “She never let me know the exact extent of her problems. I sometimes think that staying in US and flying her there for treatment might have been better. She’d have gotten better care.”

“People from world over come to Tata Memorial for getting treatment, Rupali. We’ll get her here and she’ll get the best treatment possible.”

“She is so stubborn,” talking was helping her and she continued, “Her health was deteriorating, but she won’t leave her job.”

“She is used to her independence.”

“I know. She has brought me up all by herself. Kaku was also too young when Baba died. He could barely support himself. But I can take care of both of us now. But she just won’t let go. I won’t hear another argument from her any more. If only she survives…”

“Don’t lose hope…”

“How have you lived with so much of hopelessness for so many years, Dr. Khanna? I already feel drained.”

“Don’t lose hope before you have to.”

The conversation went on intermittently until they reached her home. Paritosh noticed her keeping the pen in one of her pockets, as she rushed inside the house. She hadn’t tossed it aside even in her current distraught state of mind. Something inside him melted at that moment.

Rupali’s aunt was indeed out of her wits. It took some effort to get enough information out of her. The attack was bad, but Rupali’s mother was stable for now. However, the blockage was serious. The doctor had advised them to take her to Mumbai immediately and get expert opinion there.

Rupali spoke to the doctor on phone and they decided to take her immediately. “We will take the national highway,” Paritosh said, “It will be a longer drive, but road is good and hence safer.”

Rupali nodded. She was conscious of how much trouble he was taking for her. But she had no options but to accept his favours at that time. She wasn’t in a position to handle it by herself.

Back in Mumbai, the doctors decided to keep her under observation for two days before deciding on the surgery.

“Can I suggest something?” he said when they came out of doctor’s cabin. It was almost midnight by then.

She looked at him questioningly.

“Don’t go on a leave. You will just worry yourself to sickness. Work will keep you occupied. You are not needed here anyway. Your mother is sleeping. And you can always come back after classes. Take leave when they decide to operate.”

Experience speaking, she thought! But before she could make up her mind about his advice, her thoughts went back to the incident from earlier that evening. How abruptly had he withdrawn his hands and left? He hated her, didn’t he? He didn’t want to do anything with her. And yet – here is was. Driving her around, helping her admit her mother, helping her cope with the situation… Shouldn’t she at least try to clarify? He may not believe her. But…

“Dr. Khanna,” she began slowly, “I don’t know how to thank you for everything. It is no secret to me how generous and kind-hearted you are. But by doing so much for me, you have surpassed even yourself. I know how much you hate me. My presence makes you uncomfortable. But you always bear it gracefully. I am… I am so sorry…”

“Rupali,” he stopped her and thought for a moment about how to reply. He had to say the right thing. She shouldn’t feel miserable on his account, “I do not hate you and I have come to terms with my mistakes. There is no need for either of us to be uncomfortable with the other.”

“Mistakes?”

“Yes. Mistakes. And mine, not yours. Bets like those, pranks… They were natural for you. You were young. I should have known better.”

“Natural for me?”

“I won’t lie. I had felt humiliated and I was angry at you. Angry enough that I had decided never to see you again. I had left the institute at the first chance. But now, I realize my mistake. It was all so wrong. And not because of your bet. In fact it was good that it was a prank from your side. If you had been serious, it would have been even more disastrous. And I would never have been able to forgive myself for misleading you. It was a big, horrible mistake from my side. I had gotten carried away. I hope you have moved on from that.”

With every word of his, she felt her world crumbling down once again. He had let go of his grudges and anger at her. But not because he believed her feelings. Not even because he gave into his own feelings for her. He had done so because he thought those feelings were wrong? He was saying that if her feelings had been genuine, it would have been wrong. But those were genuine! It meant that she could have no hopes of her feelings ever being accepted by him. They were wrong in his eyes. Wrong! He hoped that she had moved on. Moved on from the ‘mistakes’. But if moving on was needed for her, it was not from the ‘mistakes’, but from her feelings. And she hadn’t moved on from those. Not because she hadn’t tried. She had tried. But…

That night was fresh in her memory. David, whom she had met through common friends and whom she had been dating for a while, had come to her house. They had gotten into the bed together. They were still making out when her phone had beeped. The sound was irresistible to her. She had created a small application that notified her every time there was a Google alert for his name. Paritosh’ name. It was that application. “I must see this,” she had pushed David away and picked up the phone. It wasn’t about him. It was some other Paritosh Khanna. A small-time TV actor, whose alerts she often got and felt disappointed. The disappointment showed this time too.

“What happened?” A frustrated David had asked impatiently.

“Nothing. I was waiting for something.”

“You can tell me. You look so disappointed.”

“Nothing Dave. I think you should leave. This isn’t a great time.”

Her mysterious behaviour had infuriated him in past too. And they had been together long enough for him to press on and forcibly take her mobile to see what was on it. “Google alert? Who is Pa-ri-tosh Khan-na?” He had pronounced the Indian name with some difficulty.

“He was my professor during undergraduation,” she had come clean. There was no point in prolonging the game.

“What the fuck! You have a Google alert set up on him?”

“I just follow his research.”

“You get out of bed to see the alert and send your boyfriend away after that. I am sorry, but that is more than just following the research, Rupali. This is unhealthy obsession to say the least.”

“You are making a mountain out of a molehill,” her protest had been weak.

“Very scholarly expression. But no. I am not making a mountain out of a molehill. I should have known. Your coldness should have been a dead giveaway. I don’t know what I was thinking. If possible get a hold of yourself, and don’t toy with people when you have nothing to give to them. See a psychiatrist. Good bye, Rupali.” David had gotten dressed and was out of the house within a minute. They never talked again. She had spent rest of the night awake, head buried in her hands. Giving up on every hope of moving on!

“Rupali!” Paritosh’ voice brought her out of her thoughts, “Are you okay? I am not angry at you, not any longer. I am telling you the truth. There is nothing to worry about.”

“I am fine,” she lied.

He had said the right thing, hadn’t he? But it didn’t seem to do her any good at all. Then he remembered a two-year old video she had, a pen clutched on to desperately and kept in the purse safely even in her most tumultuous moments, and her jumping towards him and panting with worry about his fingers in the door groove. Had. He. Said. The. Wrong. Thing?

“Dr. Khanna. You should go back home. I will stay here for the night. I will come back in the morning.”

“But…”

“Thank you, Dr. Khanna. For all the help. I am not going on leave. I will be back in the morning. Good night.” She turned and went away without giving him a chance to say anything. He looked on for a while; then turned to leave. She had also looked back. But after she was sure that he would have turned.

To be continued

Hopeless Hope (Part 5)

Posted 6 CommentsPosted in English, Original, Rupali-Paritosh

She hadn’t opened her mouth. But could he trust her? Things had changed since that day. After sharing the most personal parts of his life with her, it was not possible for him to stay aloof from her. And she had started paying more attention to him. Or at least he had started noticing her attentions.

“Do you eat fish?” she had bursted in to his office one day.

“Why?”

“Because I have some for you.”

“And where did you get it from?”

“Now that’s not fair. I asked a question first. And you have already asked me two in return without replying to mine.”

He had laughed at that and had realized immediately how rare that was. He didn’t laugh very often. “Sorry! So what was your question?” A smile still played on his lips.

“Do you eat fish?”

“Yes. I do. And to compensate for not answering earlier, let me answer any related questions to be asked in future as well. I am omnivorous. I eat almost everything.”

“Good then. Try this,” she opened a tiffin box and offered it to him. The box had some fried pieces of fish.

“Where did you get these from?”

“One of my neighbours was in town. Ma sent some through him.”

“They are delicious.”

“She is a good cook. But then all kids feel that way about their mothers, I believe.”

He had laughed again and replied, “But your mother really is. It is delicious.”

“Then have some more.”

“They are for you.”

“Far too many. And I can’t keep them for long. There are no refrigerators in the hostel. Have them please.”

Yet another day she came with some sweets.

“What’s the occasion?”

“A very auspicious one. It’s my birthday,” she had replied with a grin.

“Oh! Wow. I had no idea. Happy Birthday, Rupali. I am sorry, I didn’t know. I don’t even have a gift.”

“That’s easy. You can compensate by giving me an ‘A’ in the project.”

He had mocked a frown, “You are bribing me?”

And both of them had broken into laughter. He had started laughing quite often in her presence.

“Wait Rupali,” he had stopped her when she had made to leave, “I know nobody writes these days, except to put signatures on forms once in a while. But still…” He had taken out a pen from his drawer and had offered it to her. “My advisor had given it to me when I had completed my Ph. D. I kept it with me for all these years. Time to pass it on. Happy birthday.”

Rupali had been surprised beyond belief. It was obvious that it meant a lot to him. For him to have kept it in his drawers all the time. When she took the pen from him, there was a moment when they had held it at the same time. Their fingers hadn’t touched, but it had still sent shivers down her spine.

“Thank you,” she had mumbled, “I couldn’t have gotten a better birthday gift.” She did not dare meet his eyes. She was afraid they would give away more than either of them was prepared for.

Rupali stared miserably after Paritosh. She closed the door after he was out of her sight. She was crying. It won’t do to leave the door open. She went back to her chair and sat on it with her head buried in her hands. She remembered the fateful day. It was sometime in the beginning of the last semester at the institute. She was having an enthusiastic discussion with a group of her friends, which sounded so silly to her now.

“Most of us are very easy to manipulate,” she was arguing, “You just need good enough actors.”

“I think most of us can see through what is fake. Only if we have decided to look the other way do we get manipulated. Especially in the matters of heart,” Padma had objected.

“What is a matter of heart?”

“What could be a matter for heart? Relationships, romance…”

“Oh! Those are some of the most manipulated things in the world.”

“You sound very confident?”

“I’m very confident.”

“You can manipulate people into loving you.”

“You didn’t talk about love. You talked about relationships, romance, dates…”

“I didn’t talk about dates. But let’s say date. You think you can get anyone to agree to a date.”

“Define a date.”

“Umm… A coffee invitation from somebody who is not a buddy, let’s say.”

“Coffee?”

“No. That is easy to manipulate. A meal.”

“Outside the campus,” someone else had decided to add an extra condition.

“Dinner, not lunch,” came another addition.

“In a five-star hotel,” chimed in someone else.

“Come on,” Rupali had objected to this one, “Not a lot of people can afford that one. Manipulation has to be within reason.”

“All right. At least to a nice, fancy restaurant.”

“Assuming we are talking about people in the campus, and not rickshaw wallah, or daily-wage workers or grade four staff, that is reasonable,” Rupali had agreed.

“Okay then. Shall we bet?”

“Who do I have to get a date with?”

The names of some of the boys in the institute had popped up at first. From complete dudes to complete nerds. Detailed discussion had followed on what kind would be more difficult to manipulate. And then Padma had come up with the golden answer. By then Rupali was already regretting her bravado. She could have backed out. But when we are young, we tend to see an issue of prestige in trivial things.

“Not a student. A professor.”

“What? No!” Rupali had tried to protest.

“Why not? We are not talking about a rickshaw wallah, or daily-wage workers or grade four staff.”

“Some of them might even be able to afford a five-star hotel.”

Rupali had decided that she’d put up the facade of confidence for the time being and hoped that people would forget about it later on.

“Okay. Who?”

“Dr. Khanna. Paritosh Khanna,” Padma had suggested. The reason was not difficult to guess. If trying to get a date with a professor wouldn’t already be awkward enough, Dr. Khanna was known to be one of the most aloof professors. Not many people had seen him smile. He had never been seen scolding anybody, and doing anything frustrated professors usually did, but everyone was still scared of him.

What they didn’t know, however, that he was relatively relaxed with Rupali. She had smiled inwardly on hearing the name. He was writing recommendations for her Ph. D. application. If she got an admit, she could definitely demand a treat from him for ‘doing well’. If nothing else, after she made the final presentation for her project, she could declare it as an occasion for celebration. A dinner outside the campus in a nice restaurant; that was all their definition of date was, right?

Little did she know that she’d forget all about the bet, she’d have a dinner four months down the line that would become a real date, and then this bet would come back to destroy her, turning it into a lifetime of misery.

She opened her drawer to take out the pen and clutched it close to her heart. Just then her mobile rang.

Paritosh was annoyed with the banging on the door. What could be so urgent that someone wouldn’t respect a closed office door, which was a rarity in the institute? And even if something was that urgent, couldn’t one try knocking before banging like that. He was frozen to his spot when on opening the door he found Rupali there. In a completely dishevelled state.

“I need a leave. For at least a week.” She was practically begging.

“What is wrong?” He asked, partly concerned about her state, and partly distracted from noticing the familiar pen in her clutches. She still had the pen? And why was she running around carrying it with her? In such disturbed state?

“My mother. She has grown unwell suddenly. I need to go home and get her to the hospital here. My Kaku, I mean my uncle, is not in town to help her. I must leave right away.” Given her state, he was surprised that she was so intelligible.

“Okay. Go then. I will take care of the formalities.”

She nodded and almost ran away. It was after she was out of sight that he wondered how she would go. He knew that her hometown was at two-hour’s drive from the institute. But she didn’t have a car yet. It was too late to take a bus. He ran after her and managed to catch her right outside the department’s building.

“How will you go?”

“I… Bus… No. I will call a taxi.” The pen was still clutched in one of her hands. With the other hand she fished out her phone from her jeans pocket and tried to make a call. But her hands were shaking badly. His heart sank on seeing her in that condition. He pressed her shaking hand stopping her from further futile attempts at using the phone. “Let me take you,” he said.

“But…”

“Just listen to me, okay? You are in no position to go by yourself. Taxi or otherwise. Wait for a minute. My car is in the parking lot.”

To be continued

Hopeless Hope (Part 4)

Posted 2 CommentsPosted in English, Original, Rupali-Paritosh

The final year project spanned two semesters for undergraduate students. Rupali was doing hers with Paritosh and she had worked hard in the first semester. When she had requested him for recommendations for her Ph. D. admission applications, he had written glowing recommendations and unknown to her had even spoken to a few of his acquaintances at some of the universities she was applying to. He hadn’t regretted the decision. She was working even harder in the second semester meeting him almost every day with her progress report or with her questions.

They talked about things beyond her project. Nothing particularly personal, but it was still more than he usually talked to any student, or even any colleague. Their conversations would be about other academic stuff, her other courses, his research interests, institute’s policies, her asking for advice about how to plan a career in academics and research and so on. He sometimes wondered why he talked so much to her. Probably because she was mature for her age and he could speak to her like an equal. At the same time he didn’t feel threatened because she was much younger. She wouldn’t judge him, his choices or his life. It was a comfortable camaraderie he enjoyed in his otherwise lonely life.

It would have stayed at that if that call from hospital hadn’t come at a time when she was in his office discussing where she was stuck with her project. The call had disturbed him, as those calls always did! “I think… I need to go out right now… Let’s continue this discussion later, Rupali,” he had told her.

“That is fine. But where are you going? Is there a problem?”

“Nothing to worry about. I have to go to the hospital,” he had replied and then seeing that she was worried even more on hearing the word ‘hospital’, he had told her the name as a way of explanation, “JJD.”

That was a mental hospital. So, there wasn’t an accident or anything. But why a mental hospital? She hadn’t asked him then, but he had to tell her later.

“It’s my wife,” he had informed her. She was in the hospital for last seven years or so. “She got those attacks since her childhood. Doctors here identified them as severe anxiety attacks. But she never got any treatment at her parents’ home. They were more interested in hushing down any stories about the attacks she had and wanted to get her married early so that the prospects of her other siblings did not get marred.”

“What does that even mean?”

He had smiled patronizingly at her, “It probably sounds Greek to you, but for a large part of our population, getting all their kids married is the only and the ultimate goal they have in life.”

“And how can you find that amusing? Don’t you feel angry? Isn’t it unfair that you are saddled with this responsibility?”

He had sighed and leaned back on his chair, “You ask me difficult questions, Rupali. There are things that we just come to terms with.”

“Why? Why wouldn’t you hold her family responsible? Why wouldn’t you send her back to them and ask for a divorce?”

Paritosh had looked thoughtful for a while and then he had spoken. He had spoken quite a lot, quite uncharacteristically. “You asked me if I don’t feel angry. I had felt angry. Extremely angry. And you know what she told me? Or rather begged me to do. She told me that instead of sending her back to her family, I should leave her in Banaras or some place. That is what her family would do as well. But if she were sent back, everyone in the village would know, and it would be a trouble for her younger siblings and cousins, especially her sisters. She gave me another option too. She told me that she would happily write a suicide note, if I could arrange to kill her. She was too scared to commit suicide herself. Otherwise she would have done it long back.”

Rupali had looked like all the blood was drained out of her face.

“I’m sorry,” he had realized that he had said things that were too crass and had added gently. “I got carried away. I am scaring you.”

“No. Obviously you didn’t do either,” she had smiled weakly, “There is nothing to be scared about.”

“How could I? And then…” he had stopped himself. He was getting carried away again. He hadn’t realized that he was so eager to talk to someone about all of this. But how appropriate would it to tell all this to a student, especially when he had kept silent before everyone else all these years.

“Then?”

He had smiled, “Nothing. Let’s…”

“You can’t tell me half the story, Dr. Khanna. That’s not fair.”

“Real life stories are not fairy tales. They don’t have a happy ending. Or even a closure.”

“I know that by now. But I still need to know the rest.”

He had shaken his head at her persistence. Then he had decided that she had heard the worst already, and continued, “I had some questions to answer myself too. Why had I married her? Because my mother wanted a daughter-in-law who would serve her and take care of her in her last days. She wouldn’t leave our hometown and live with me here. So, Amrit, that is my wife, had stayed back with her. She never complained. She took care of her like a professional nurse here won’t have been able to do. All this while fighting through her own illness. Did I owe her nothing? I visited once a month and for a long time I didn’t even know about her problems. I had stayed longer during summer vacation once. It was then that she got one of her attacks and I came to know about it. When that happened, she had cried at my feet asking me to choose one of those two options, but not send her back. In that scheme of things was she a perpetrator or a victim? Sending her back would have been a lifelong punishment for her and not her family, who were the real culprits. My own family had done no better by her. I questioned my mother about not informing me and not getting her treated. Apparently they had been to a doctor in the town. He said everything was fine with her and she was just missing her parents’ home.  Once she settled down in her new home, everything would be fine. You didn’t have to be a doctor to know that the diagnosis was flawed. She was seriously troubled. I tried to convince my mother that both of them should come and live with me. But my mother wouldn’t agree. ‘If you are missing your wife so much, take her. I am not leaving my home,’ she would taunt me. And the idea of serving her in-laws at all costs was so ingrained in Amrit that she wouldn’t think of doing anything against my mother’s wishes.”

He had fallen silent, but Rupali urged him on, “Then?”

“I drove myself crazy thinking about it. Finally I decided to raise my voice against my mother. It didn’t come easy to me. I was not brought up that way. Parents’ wishes had been the final word for me all my life. They had wanted me to come back from US. I did. They had wanted me to marry Amrit. I did. But now I was responsible for Amrit’s wellbeing too. So, I decided to go home to get her here. But I didn’t have to rebel. Just as I was leaving for home, I got a call from Amrit telling me that my mother was breathing her last. She died minutes after I reached there. I brought Amrit here with me, but her problems only increased with time. The doctors told me that it was too late for her to get better. And after…” His voice had drowned again.

“Dr. Khanna?”

“This is crazy. Wrong. Why I am telling you all this?” he had suddenly grown extremely self-conscious.

“Because it doesn’t look like you have shared it with many people. Probably with no one. And we need to share our problems.”

“She wanted a baby,” he needed only a small encouragement to continue, “She was convinced that it would be a cure to her problems. Despite doctors advising against it. But pregnancy only made her condition worse. During one of the attacks she harmed herself and… the baby could not be saved. She had a complete breakdown after that and had to be institutionalized. There was no way she could lead a normal life here. And that is how she has been till now… She had a severe attack yesterday when I got the call. So, I went to see her. Sometimes she recognizes me and it helps her. But most of the times even that doesn’t happen.”

They had stayed silent for a while. Rupali needed time to process everything she had heard. “I’m sorry,” she had finally broken the silence with these words, “For you. But your wife is really lucky.”

Paritosh had shrugged not knowing how to feel about that complement. Then he had tried to change the subject, “Our discussion was interrupted yesterday. Shall we…”

“Not now,” she had stopped him urgently. Paritosh had looked at her for a moment and had realized that she was too affected. He had come to terms with all of it over the years, but he had told her too much in just a few minutes.

“Fine,” he had relented. She didn’t usually shy away from work. So, she must not be in a position to discuss. That’s why she had stopped him. “But don’t be so disturbed. Things happen. Life is not fair. But we don’t stop living.”

She had nodded.

“You want some coffee, or tea?” he had asked seeing that she was still quite shaken up.

The coffee invitation would have been the first step towards winning her bet with her friends, but she had long forgotten about it. Right then, she could really do with some coffee. So, she had nodded and they had walked to the department’s canteen to grab a cup.

They had sipped their coffee in awkward silence. Paritosh had looked around after a while and had spoken after ensuring that the place almost empty, “Rupali. You really shouldn’t have heard all of this. I know it sounds selfish that I should be preaching you after unburdening myself at your expense. But try to forget. It is sad and dark and I would hate it if it affected you.”

“I am fine. Don’t worry about me.”

He had nodded and had spoken again after a pause, “Not many people know about it here. Many think that I am not married or am widowed. Not that I want to deceive anyone. But I don’t want rumours and pity all around me either.”

“I won’t open my mouth, I promise. You can trust me,” she had said earnestly.

To be continued

Hopeless Hope (Part 3)

Posted 2 CommentsPosted in English, Original, Rupali-Paritosh

And the introduction surprised her. He wasn’t reading out from a paper, but speaking from memory. What he was saying wasn’t even her usual brief biodata, which she had given to Meher earlier for this purpose. He enumerated her academic achievements from the time she was an undergraduate student at the institute and went on to describe every important milestone of her career during her Ph. D. and post-doctoral work, all the awards, all the illustrious journal publications, all the important conference presentations…. When did he learn so much about her? And why? Before this meeting? For this introduction?

“I don’t think I need to add any assurance from my side that Dr. Rupali Banerjee is a valuable addition to our department. I’m sure her achievements in research and teaching here will continue to make us proud,” he said as a way of conclusion. He didn’t have to ask for applause, as he got a big one naturally. Despite the competitiveness and insecurity many felt in the academic world, Rupali’s achievements were too good for people to hold back.

After the applause died down, Paritosh looked at Rupali indicating to her to say something. “That was…” she felt her cheeks going red and hot again, “That introduction made everything sound so glorious that I am taken aback myself.” Humility! There was no dearth of good qualities in her, Paritosh thought. Was it only empathy that she lacked? “I just want to say that it is an honour to come back to the institute in this role and to be able to call myself a colleague of many people who have taught me. I hope I am able to live up to their expectations.”

Another round of applause followed and then they broke the meeting. Snacks and tea were served in the room and people chatted on informally. Rupali had conversations with all the faculty members and staff. Paritosh noticed satisfactorily that she was becoming more comfortable by every minute.

“So, why did you decide to come back to India?” someone asked Rupali and Paritosh listened with curiosity. But she didn’t give any concrete answer. “It was just supposed to be this way,” she replied with a shrug and a philosophical smile. Was she unhappy about returning?

And why did so many questions about her keep coming to his mind?

Rupali looked at the project proposal two students had brought to her. It was a part of her course. Given the topic they had chosen, Paritosh’ input could be extremely valuable for the project. She was about to suggest that to the students when she stopped .What if he refused? Because the request came through her? She decided not to give this idea to the students until she could be sure of his cooperation. She just offered her comments and asked them to meet her the next week after they had made some progress.

After the students left she struggled to write an e-mail to Paritosh for a while. Then she gave up. How difficult could it be? At worst he would refuse. What harm could come from that? She decided to just talk to him face-to-face.

She knocked at the open door to draw his attention. “Rupali. Come in,” he wasn’t startled; he didn’t look confused or uncomfortable as he had in some of their earlier encounters. That gave her courage. “What’s up?” He was polite. Her courage redoubled.

“I was wondering…” her fingers had curled into a fist in nervousness, despite the doubled courage. Paritosh noticed that.

“Why don’t you sit down?”

“No… I’m fine… I mean…” Why was she bumbling like an idiot? He had only asked her to sit down. It made sense for her to sit down if she was going to discuss a project with him. “I should sit down,” she finished even more foolishly and sat down.

He frowned and in that moment the answer struck him. He knew what had changed about her. She didn’t have that bindaas attitude he had associated with her always. There was a nervousness, an air of misery about her. Why? ‘Wonderful!’ he thought with some annoyance, ‘I hardly get the answer to one question I have about her and the other one pops up.’ Outwardly he kept his calm and asked, “Everything all right?”

“Yes. Of course. Do you have some time? I wanted to discuss some student projects with you.”

“Okay?” he was confused. Was that what she was so nervous about?

He wasn’t asking her to leave. She took a deep breath and handed him the printout of the proposal. “I was hoping you could provide them and me some inputs on it. Specifically in designing the simulations.”

“Sure,” he said while looking over the proposal.

It was that easy. She let out the breath she had been holding. At worst he would have refused. What harm could come from that? But she realized now that his refusal would have made her extremely miserable. “Thank you, Dr. Khanna.”

“You can fix up a meeting with the students once they are ready to start the work.”

“Yes Sir. Thank you, Sir,” she got up.

“Rupali,” he stopped her as she was leaving. He could not suppress his curiosity, “Is that what you were so nervous about?”

Her face turned ashen. Her gulp was visible. “It isn’t the first time I have been an absolute idiot,” she replied and left.

What the hell did she mean? This change in her, it didn’t have anything to do with him, did it? It couldn’t. She didn’t care about him. It was all about a bet!

“These days it is just easier to use cloud services for running these simulations. Even the best machine locally will have maximum of 16 GB RAM. It will be much faster and not particularly costly to just run an AWS instance for a few hours. It is preapproved in the department and we also have special rates from Amazon. Speak to Meher about it,” Paritosh explained to Rupali and her students about the project.

“And any suggestions on simulation design itself.”

“Their reading list seems to have most of the papers. I had given this talk at IIMT a couple of years ago. In that I had explained some of these in simple terms; and had also suggested some sources of relevant data. Let me see if I can find the transcript. If not…”

“I have the video,” Rupali said.

“Video? How come?”

“They had recorded it and posted it on their website after your talk. I downloaded a copy for my reference.”

“That’s great…” It was weird. How did she even know about the talk, much less follow it and download a video.

He didn’t know that she had a Google alerts set up for his name! It wasn’t just he who had followed her life obsessively since their parting six years ago.

“Seriously? Three competing quotations? For an online service costing ten dollars… five hundred rupees a month?” Rupali was asking incredulously.

Meher gave her an embarrassed smile and shrug. “The registrar told me that those are the rules,” that was the only answer she had.

Paritosh stopped in his tracks. Rupali’s office door was open as was expected of all the faculty members, unless they really needed the privacy. “What’s going on?” he couldn’t help asking.

Rupali got up looking flustered, while Meher was relieved, “Dr. Khanna. Good that you are here. I was about to suggest to Dr. Banerjee that you might be able to help.”

“That’s not needed Meher,” Rupali objected, “It’s a small amount. I will just pay for it myself.”

“What is the problem?” Paritosh patiently asked again.

Meher looked in confusion from Rupali to Paritosh and back. Should she talk or should she not?

“It’s okay, Meher,” Rupali saw her confusion and decided to relieve her, “I will discuss this with Dr. Khanna.”

“Cool,” she replied and went out.

Paritosh stayed and waited for Rupali to speak.

“There is this online service. I have used it earlier. It is like a social network for students and teachers. Makes the group work, class announcements and other such things really easy. I wanted to use it in my class. It’s just ten dollars a month. But it seems that for buying anything from the department’s budget, I need to get three competing quotes. It makes no sense whatsoever. It’s not a computer. Where am I even to find three people providing exactly this service? I thought I will just pay for it myself.”

Paritosh could not help smiling. He remembered his own initial days in India after returning from US. Getting his head around the bureaucracy of academic institutes hadn’t been easy. He identified with her frustration.

“There is a little privilege we poor professors get,” he told her, “It is hidden somewhere in the faculty manual and administrators will never remind you of it. But for every full credit course you teach in a semester, you can spend something like two thousand rupees a month on class activities. You should be able to expense it off under that head. The form is on the department’s intranet site.”

“Oh! That’s great. Thanks a lot.”

“Things make you regret coming back, don’t they?” he spoke more to himself than her, it appeared to Rupali.

“Do they?” she asked a question in reply, “But you have always put people in your life ahead of your professional ambitions, haven’t you?”

“Why did you come back?” he asked and then chided himself for continuing the conversation with her. He wasn’t supposed to do that. Not again!

“For the same reason that you had. For my mother… Dr. Khanna,” her eyes suddenly grew wide, as she screamed his name and almost jumped towards him. She held the door with one hand. Her other hand grabbed his to take it away from the door’s groove. All of it happened before he could blink and it took him some time to understand what was going on. The stopper had come out somehow and the door was getting shut due to the force of the air coming through the open window. He was still standing at the door, and his fingers were resting on the groove. If the door had shut, he would have been hurt. Badly!

Paritosh looked at Rupali who was examining his hands. She was panting. Not from the physical exercise definitely. That hadn’t been so hard. She was obviously distressed. “Are you hurt?” she asked.

That concern and care! He would fall for it again. “I am fine,” he mumbled and withdrew his hands. Then he abruptly turned and left.

He locked his office-door from inside. He wasn’t in the mental state to see anybody at that moment. He slumped on his chair and buried his head in his hands. What had fate planned for him? He wasn’t looking for anything happy in his life. He had taken his past disappointments, mistakes and hopelessness as granted. But why did they have to knock at his door again and again. Hadn’t the past been sufficient?

To be continued

Hopeless Hope (Part 2)

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

Rupali smiled as she finished preparing for the first lecture she would deliver in her new role as the assistant professor in the institute. She had included the examples of algorithmic problems Paritosh had introduced them to in his first lecture of Algorithms all those years ago. The problems which looked simple enough, and yet if you tried to do them in a brute-force manner, the computers will take hundreds of years to do them. Those examples had piqued her curiosity immediately. And her fascination for Algorithms and Computer Science had seen no waning since then. While till then she had been unsure about her decision of joining engineering itself, after that she had done all possible courses in that area, worked outside the course work to enhance her understanding and knowledge and had gone to US to do her Ph. D. and post-doctorate after finishing B. Tech. She hoped that one of her lectures could someday make that kind of difference in a student’s life that Paritosh’ lecture had made to her all those years back.

Paritosh would have a tough time explaining to himself, and to anyone else passing by, what he was doing at the door of the classroom where a group of undergraduates were taking their first lessons in Algorithms. Thankfully the classroom was at the end of one of the numerous corridors in the building and unless somebody had to come to this classroom they were unlikely to pass by. And everyone who had to come to the class was already inside. A bunch of eighteen-year old boys, who made up most of the class, were unlikely to be late to the class of a beautiful young female professor. Word about the new professor must have gone around in the hostels. And the professor was also already inside the class, starting her lecture dot on time.

Unknown to Paritosh, she had felt nervous for a few moments when the clock had struck nine. As a graduate student and later as a post doctoral fellow at her university in the US, she had often taken tutorials and had occasionally lectured too. Public speaking had never been a challenge to her. The stage held no terrors. Still she was unnerved for a while. She felt an enormous responsibility on her shoulders – the responsibility of introducing a discipline of study to these fifty odd youngsters. If they developed interest, it would be her achievement. If they didn’t, it would be her failure. She realized that she had never admired her own professors as much in the past as she did at that moment. They had carried on their responsibilities with so much ease. She took in a deep breath and recalled the lecture that had taken place in the same classroom about nine years ago, when she had been on the other side. She tried to draw strength from the memory and greeted her students a cheery good morning.

A smile automatically formed on Paritosh’ lips as he heard her giving a sample problem to the students – the travelling salesman problem in computer science parlance, which she was explaining with milkman as an example. If he had to cover certain houses in different localities everyday with minimal travelling required and had to come back to his cowshed at the end of it, what would be the optimal route for him? “Something your milkman has probably figured out from experience,” she said. She had imitated the exact words he used when he taught that course. “Computers, however, are dumb creatures.” His smile turned to a grin as he heard her engage the class in calculations that showed how this simple-sounding problem will take a computer ridiculous amount of time to solve if the number of places to cover even became as big as twenty. “As humans, we can help the computers do much better with this and other problems. This course will, hopefully, equip you with some basic tools to do that.” Paritosh became aware of his stupid grin and turned solemn again. He also became conscious of how odd his standing near the door of the classroom was. He turned to leave when Rupali noticed something at the door. The feeling she got was eerily similar to what she had felt in the Computer Science lab six years ago. Somebody had been at the door overhearing, as Padma had congratulated her for winning the bet.

“What bet?” she had been surprised.

“Don’t be so modest. The bet of going on a date with Dr. Khanna, what else?”

“What the… No…” And she had felt someone passing by the door of the lab.

She had excused herself and rushed out. He had turned at the end of the corridor, but it surely was him. She had followed him to his office, not quite knowing what she’d do. But she had to do something. Apologize? Tell him that…

But his steely voice had left her speechless, “You had forgotten your notebook.” He had handed it to her. He must have come to the lab to return it.

“Sir, I…”

“Leave. Ms. Banerjee.”

She had trembled in fear and any attempts at trying to explain had been pre-empted by another “Leave. Now.” order from him.

“Excuse me,” she presently announced to the class absent-mindedly, “I will be back in a minute.” She got down from the podium and rushed to the door leaving her students whispering to each other about this inexplicable action of hers. She caught just a glimpse of him as he took the next turn and disappeared. Was he there? Was he overhearing her lecture? Why?

She couldn’t follow him this time. She had a class to teach. And what would she tell him even if she did follow him? She came back to the class and forced herself to concentrate on the task at hand.

Paritosh was determined now. He could not continue holding an old prank against her. It was his own vulnerability that had made it sting so much. She wasn’t responsible for it. As the HOD, he had professional responsibilities. He was supposed to mentor younger faculty members. He had to do that for her too. But he was thrown off balance once more as he walked into the conference room for the monthly departmental meeting. Rupali was already there and nobody else had come yet. “Hi,” he said awkwardly. But then took a deep breath and decided to make good of his resolve, “How are things?” He was satisfied by how he sounded this time.

“Fine Sir.”

“Among colleagues we are on a first-name basis here,” he replied with a smile.

She wasn’t sure how she should take that. Was he trying to imply something? A break off from the past? Was he being sarcastic? Or was she just reading too much into the situation.

She looked at him and felt that his smile was genuine. She relaxed. “Old habits die hard, Sir.” It was funny. It came so naturally in the US to address her teachers by their names. But back in India, it was difficult. And changing habits was even more difficult. When she had called him ‘Sir’ or ‘Dr. Khanna’ as a student, how could she suddenly start calling him by his first name? She had cringed in the class, when the students had addressed her as Ma’am. Probably she should insist early on that the students address her by her first name. Once habituated, it would be difficult to get them to behave otherwise.

“How did the first lecture go?” he asked.

Her heart skipped a beat. He had been there. Was he looking for something specific in her answer? “I imitated you,” she replied, “I think that saved my day.”

He laughed. It wasn’t without reason that he had been so enamoured with her wit all those years back? That hadn’t changed in her. Something else had though. What was it? He couldn’t put his fingers on it.

His laughter gave Rupali some hope. He wasn’t as bitter as he had been back then. May be, just may be, sometime soon, he’d let her apologize. She didn’t dare hope for anything more. Although if…

Meher walked in next apologizing profusely for the delay and soon the rest of the faculty members and staff were in the room too.  It was the monthly administrative meeting and initial agenda items were operational ones around general and library budget, new machine requirements in the lab, resolving conflicts in the time table for the semester, discussion on the number of new students coming in and ensuring facilities for them etc. Since it was the first meeting of the semester, the number of agenda items was particularly large. But as the newest and youngest member, Rupali didn’t have much to contribute on them. In fact, most people didn’t have anything to say. Things were decided beforehand and it was only formal ratification that happened in these meetings. After these were out of the way, it was the time to formally introduce the new joinees to the staff. Paritosh delegated the task of introducing new administrative staff to Meher. Rupali was the only faculty who had joined in that semester. After Meher was done, he introduced Rupali himself.

To be continued

Hopeless Hope (Part 1)

Posted 6 CommentsPosted in English, Original, Rupali-Paritosh

“Good morning, Dr. Khanna,” Rupali managed to greet Paritosh even as her cheeks turned red and hot. Thankfully Meher, the chief administrator, had decided not to stay on after realizing that Rupali and Paritosh knew each other already. Otherwise the awkwardness and the strange tension that filled Paritosh’ office at that moment would not have escaped her.

“Dr. Banerjee,” Paritosh’ face might not have looked as flushed as Rupali’s. But his mind was as flustered as hers. He decided to come back to the institute after six years and one new person who joined the department that semester and came on the same day as his joining back had to be Rupali Banerjee!

‘Leave. Ms. Banerjee,’ some memories from past echoed in her mind. It was the same room. It was the same two people. “Rupali. Please Sir,” she could not help requesting and she sounded so miserable that Paritosh regretted being so cold to her. Despite what had happened…

“Right,” he mumbled, “Welcome to the institute. Welcome back, rather. It feels great to see the students coming back as faculty.” He managed to speak out his welcoming remark, but his delivery had obviously been lacking. If he could not avoid this situation altogether, he would have liked to be prepared better for it. But as it happened, he had joined that morning itself and had been given the details of the new recruit barely fifteen minutes back. He hadn’t had the time to overcome his shock.

And Rupali had gotten even less time than he had. She had felt a chill run down her spine, when Meher had taken that turn in the department building to take her to meet the HOD. “Dr. Rao sits in room no. 204?” she had asked trying to sound as calm as possible.

“Dr. Rao? No. We are going to meet Dr. Khanna. Dr. Rao has left. Dr. Khanna has joined this morning as the new HOD. He was with the institute even earlier. I wasn’t here then. When he came back, he requested for, and was given, his old office.”

“Dr. Paritosh Khanna?” Rupali had been alarmed.

“Yes. You know him?”

“I did several courses under him, when I was a student here,” she hoped her voice was not sinking, “He was my guide for the final year project too.”

“Ohh!! What a coincidence that you should come back to join on the same day. And this makes my job easier. Here is his office,” the door was open as expected, “Good morning Dr. Khanna. I believe you already know Dr. Rupali Banerjee. So, I’ll leave the two of your to do your formalities. Dr. Banerjee, I will be in the admin office. Once you are done you can come back for the rest of the paperwork.”

“Yeah,” Rupali had mumbled and had entered the room with her hot, red, flushed cheeks.

“Good morning, Dr. Khanna,” she had greeted him.

Presently she replied to his inadequately warm welcome, “Thanks. Pleasure is mine. I didn’t know you had come back. Dr. Rao had signed my offer letter…”

“It was a spur of the moment decision. Dr. Rao decided to leave. The director reached out to me and I just decided to… I had no idea about your decision either.”

Had they known about each other’s decision, would they have changed their own?

“You couldn’t have.”

“Why don’t you sit down?” Paritosh was finally gaining some of his composure back. Rupali realized only then that both of them were standing till then.

She didn’t stop to think if it was appropriate before she spoke, “I think I should get back to Meher. Apparently there is at least a day’s worth of paperwork.”

Normally, as HOD Paritosh would spend more time in the introductory meeting with a new faculty member. Rupali’s reluctance towards further conversation was unprofessional, but he wasn’t complaining. He wanted to step away and have sometime to himself to absorb the situation as much as she did.

“Okay. If you have any issues in settling down, feel free to reach out.”

“Sure Sir.” Nobody could have said ‘sure’ with such want of surety.

Rupali thought for a moment every time she signed a paper that day. Should she withdraw? There was still time. Some other institutes would still honour their job offers to her. She had chosen this offer because it was one of the best institutes in India, it was her dear alma mater, she could stay close to her mother, probably convince her to live with her and she had been sure that Dr. Khanna was not here. Everything else was still valid. But…

But by the end of the tiring and boring day of filling up and signing papers, she had decided that she wouldn’t go away. This was fate’s way of giving her a chance. A chance to make amends. She wasn’t sure she would be able to make any good of the chance. But she wouldn’t refuse it. Not unless she got any hints that he wanted her to…

Paritosh himself had a lot of paperwork to do. However, for him it was familiar work. Hence Meher had just left the papers with him. It took him a lot of effort to go through the motion of filling and signing the forms. He wondered every few minutes if he should just leave it there and go back to Delhi. They wouldn’t refuse to take him back. That much was always ensured with his professional reputation in his field.

But why should he do that? What will it achieve? It wasn’t like he was angry with her. Even if there was any bitterness in the beginning, over the years it had withered away. All that was left was a dull, but constant ache. And his mind had told him again and again that it wasn’t her fault. She was a young student. Playing a prank was natural for her. It was idiotic on his part to fall for it. And it was outright wrong for him to have those feelings. If someone was responsible for his humiliation, it was he himself. No. He wasn’t angry at her. He was angry at himself. When the anger wasn’t directed at her, her presence should not make things any worse for him, should it? Then, how would it matter if he stayed or went back? He might as well stay. He would stay. He would not go back. Not unless his presence continued to be uncomfortable for her… Like it was that morning.

“Dr. Khanna,” Meher came to his office the next morning, “You need to sign these papers as Dr. Banerjee’s boss before I can file them.” She handed him the paper.

He signed them and handed her his own papers, “Will you take care of getting mine signed by the director?”

“Sure Sir.”

“And Meher?”

“Yes Sir?”

“Rupali… I mean Dr. Banerjee is all settled?”

“I think so, Sir. She has been a student here. I’m sure everything is familiar and known to her. Your meeting with her was fairly short. I guess you already know everything about her.” Meher’s smile was bright. But it failed to bring any cheer to Paritosh.

“Yes. Indeed,” he replied tentatively wondering if that was the right response.

Meher didn’t show any untoward reaction to his reply.  So, it must have been fine, he decided. Why was he so overworked about it?

“Oh! And Dr. Khanna. I forgot to give you this. Here is a copy of department’s time table for the semester. It starts from Monday, of course.”

“Thanks Meher.”

Paritosh looked at the timetable after Meher left. Rupali would be teaching Algorithms to second year undergraduates. He had taught her that course. He remembered very well. It was one of the first departmental courses the students of Computer Science took. And it was in that course that he had noticed Rupali for the first time. One of those rare students, who always attended all the classes, although he hadn’t made attendance compulsory in his course. And ever curious. She asked intelligent questions. Nothing pleases a teacher more than a worthy and intelligent student. She had pleased him in that course. And in the other advanced courses she had done under him. And while organizing the technical festival of the institute where he was one of the advisors. And in her final year project. And then… Paritosh jerked himself out of that chain of thoughts. He didn’t want to think about her. And about that…

To be continued

Coming Around (Part 17 – Last Part)

Posted 11 CommentsPosted in English, Original, Subrato-Paridhi

“Hello!” Paridhi froze on hearing the familiar long drawn ‘hello’ on the other end of the phone.

Subrato looked at her and blinked in assurance and encouragement.

“Hello Mummy,” her voice drowned. She wasn’t sure what she should talk about. She feared, rather hoped, that the phone will be slammed down at the other end.

But what she got, instead, was emotional fluster, “Pari. Dear… Where… How… How are you?”

“I am fine Mummy. And you?”

“I am alive. What can I say?” Paridhi sighed. The self-pity. Some things never changed. She had always been so busy wallowing in self-pity that she never paid any attention to what her children’s dreams and aspirations were.

Paridhi was wondering how to continue the conversation when to her relief her mother spoke again, “You are in America?”

“Yes.”

“All by yourself?”

“I am independent – yes. But I have had help.”

“From whom?”

“Will tell you some other time. How is Dadi?”

“She has left us. Passed away. It has been six months.”

“Ohh!” Paridhi didn’t know how to react. She had always accepted that domineering woman’s presence in their lives, because she had always been there. But while she felt a sense of responsibility towards her mother, she didn’t have much feelings of any kind towards her grand-mother. “I am sorry,” she mumbled, “You are staying alone Mummy?”

There was silence at the other end. Then there was some sound and Paridhi realized that she was crying. “Mummy. Are you crying?”

“I never had any expectation from your brother. But you also never thought of checking up on me?”

“Mummy. You are the one who had disowned me,” Paridhi could not help retorting.

“I was angry.”

“Of course. So was I. But I called you Mummy, didn’t I? I will keep calling. Okay? Don’t cry now. Please.”

“Yeah. I am fine.”

“And Mummy?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you like to get back in touch with Bhaiya?”

“You know where he is.”

“Yes. We are in touch. Shall I give you his number?”

“I am his mother. You want me to bow down?”

“Right. No. I don’t want to,” Paridhi sighed. Parents are supposed to love their kids come what may. At least that’s what the entire world seems to believe. But that was not true. Ego, rivalry and all sorts of conflict came in the way of parental love too. “I will call again, Mummy. Bye.”

“Everything all right?” Subrato held her hands gently and asked.

“Dadi is dead.”

“I am sorry,” the response came automatically.

“I’m not sure I’m. How insensitive is that? We are a family, right? We are supposed to love each other. And yet… I must be a terrible person to feel this way about my family…”

“Stop it Paridhi.”

“My mother is alone. She has given birth to me. She has brought me up. How will she manage alone in her old days? I should do something about her. And yet… I… I just don’t feel like going back, meeting her, bringing her here, living with her – any of that. Because… Because she makes me miserable. Even today… But she is my mother. I should feel responsible towards her. Our parents have a right over us. Why? Because they have given birth to us. But it was not my decision that I should be born, was it? Then why should I be responsible for it? Why should I feel indebted that they gave birth to me?”

“Paridhi!” Subrato had to shake her to stop her agitated ramblings.

“Your family is not like that, right?”

Subrato sighed, “No. It’s not. They are more reasonable. But…”

“Nobody’s is. Why me? When families are perfect for every body else, why not me?”

“Tell me something Paridhi. How many people know about your problems with your family?”

“Only… you…” she was confused by his question.

“So, nobody else who looks at your can figure out what you go through in trying to please your family, can they? What makes you think that the same thing doesn’t happen to others.”

She fell silent.

“For some reason, we have idealized, romanticized a lot of things. Haven’t people been talking since forever about pure love, unconditional love and what not about couples? How much of that pure, unconditional, lasting-till-death love do you see around? Parental love is also not as perfect as we would like to believe. Parenthood is probably a special feeling, and it does seem to make some people better. But that’s not a given… And if it didn’t make you mother a better, sensitive person, you are not responsible for it. Nor are you alone. This world is full of people with broken, abusive families. You are actually amongst the better lot because you have escaped unharmed and you are not dependent. You are quite lucky Paridhi, and you are not responsible. Always remember that.”

She broke down and leaned on him for support.

“And I am sorry,” he mumbled, “I shouldn’t have asked you to call her. It has disturbed you, instead of calming you down.”

“No. Don’t say that,” she stopped crying and looked up a him, “It makes me feel like a loser. Someone who has burdened you with her own troubles…”

“Stop this, will you?”

“Why do you even like me? I’m such a messed up person. Ever since we have met, all you seem to be doing is listening to or solving my problems. What do you see in me? What will you ever get from me?” all her insecurities were surfacing.

Subrato sighed, “I will tell you this once and for all Paridhi. And I don’t want you to ask this question ever again. Okay? Listen then. Behind all your troubles is this very unique quality of yours. That you care, care to a fault. Even if you want to turn apathetic, which I thought you had turned towards your family, you can not stop caring. I want that care from you. And I hope that from me you won’t get any troubles in return.”

Paridhi had nothing to say. She just hugged him tight in reply.

“What should I do about Mummy?” she asked a little later.

“You tell me. What do you think you should do?”

“I will ask Bhaiya to call her. I think she wants to connect back with him. But is too egoistic to take the first step.”

“Will he agree?”

“He will. She is his mother too… He did what he did because he had no other option. And he is in Mumbai, closer to her than I am… Plus he is the son. She would feel more comfortable depending on him…”

“Great then. What is there to worry about?” Subrato smiled, “And we can always make trips to India to visit her as well as my family. And tell your brother that you will share any financial responsibilities going forward.”

“I will. Though my guess is that she doesn’t need financial help. Papa has left enough. Remember the lakhs she was willing to spend on my dowry?”

Subrato chuckled to make light of the situation and hugged her gently.

Paridhi was perplexed. Subrato had asked her to help him in finalizing the house. And he was showing her the huge houses in the suburbs. When he had landed in New York, he had talked about renting an apartment in Manhattan. Why did he want to move so far into suburbs now? How will they meet? As it was, the thought of him shifting out to his own house was making her feel wretched. And to top that, it was going to be so far.

This was third house they were seeing and boy! Did she fall in love with it? It reminded her of some of the colonial constructions she had seen back in India. Only it was very suitable to the modern sensibilities. It was spacious with a lawn in the front. There was plenty of space for a kitchen garden in the backyard. They walked upstairs to the bedroom. Airy and sunny were the words that came to her mind. The place was almost fully furnished and the bed in the room was thing of beauty with its wooden carvings.

“This one is beautiful.”

“You like it?”

“I do. But do you?”

“All the houses I showed you are pre-selected for my liking. You have to decide.”

“Me? But you have to live here,” she said trying hard to suppress the disappointment in her voice.

“You… You are not going to… shift with me?”

She looked up startled, “Am I?”

“What the… Why on earth would I be looking to buy a house in the suburbs if not to…”

“You are buying the house?”

“Correction Ms. Chauhan. We are buying the house. What were you thinking?”

“How would I know? You never told me anything. When did you say our roommate arrangement was going to continue?”

“Our roommate arrangement is not going to continue.”

“Excuse me?”

“You are… I am sorry I should not have presumed,” he calmed down and spoke seriously, “I mean… I want you to move in with me… No. I want us to move in together. As live-in partners right now, if you insist on the correct technical term. But hopefully soon as husband and wife and life partners. Is that acceptable to you?”

“You are a wicked man! Couldn’t you have told me earlier? I was feeling so wretched…”

“You thought I would leave you behind… Oh my God. Paridhi. Wasn’t it obvious?”

“How would it be obvious? You had never tried to…” her voice drowned in embarrassment.

“Tried to?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on, now.”

She looked here and there and completed her sentence with a shrug trying to look nonchalant, when she was actually feeling extremely shy, “You never showed any inclination towards a live-in or whatever relationship… How would I…”

She remained silent for a couple of moment after that, not daring to look up at him and was taken by surprise when he moved close to her. “I should and could put an end to all your uncertainties right away,” his hoarse voice sent a shiver down her spine. He put his arms around her almost trembling form and led her to the bed.

She lied down silently, feeling the reaction and arousal of her body as he gently, but passionately kissed and nibbled at her neck and earlobes. She could also feel his growing arousal as he had pinned her down beneath himself and his body was pressed hard against hers. One of his hands was caressing her face, hair, neck and breasts, while with the other he pushed up the skirt she was wearing. He drew back for a second and she opened her eyes to look at him.

He noticed the look for surprise and bewilderment on her face, as he took out a packet of condoms from his pocket. He looked from the packet to her face and back in a moment of confusion and awkwardness. Then he sighed before explaining, “I have been thinking about it… for quite sometime… And I wanted to be… not be careless… But you always looked so nervous and child-like… I wasn’t sure you were ready for it… And I carried it in my pocket afraid that you would find it… And… today I am again not sure,” he noticed her expressions and kept the packet down on the bed intending to withdraw.

“This place… this bed… is not ours…” she said suddenly.

“Is that your only objection?” he stopped moving away and asked.

“Yes… No… I mean… Yes!” she finally had to say it. Could somebody’s sensitivity be frustrating? If the person was Subrato, it could be. Right then, she just wanted him to forget everything else and devour her! And here he was! Struggling with whether she was ready! He was right is assessing that she was incredibly nervous. But what he didn’t seem to realize was that with him, she was incredibly ready too!

“Let’s mark it then,” he was back to kissing her senseless, “I have already negotiated down the prices. This is as good as ours. Including the furniture… and the bed…”

He did pull back once more to use the protection and except for those few moments, Paridhi lost every sense of time and place. She didn’t realize how loud her moans of pleasure were until she saw Subrato grinning at her in the end. He planted a soothing kiss on her forehead and asked gently, “Are you okay?”

“Y… Yes,” she felt shy despite the obvious assurance in his kiss as she replied through her panting and sweating.

“I had totally underestimated you,” he sounded amused as he lied down beside her and pulled her close to himself.

“What do you mean?”

“You will know in the days to come… In this very bed! Now that I know I can push you…. Quite far!”

She gulped hard at his obvious reference to their sexual life about which he seemed to be making some grand plans. But she replied bravely, “First get the house. Right now they could sue us for trespassing.”

“Right away, my Lady,” he replied and picked up his phone to call the agent. His dream of making New York his home for rest of his life was going to come true after all!

– The End –

Coming Around (Part 16)

Posted 13 CommentsPosted in English, Original, Subrato-Paridhi

It had been a week since… Paridhi blushed as she thought about it… since they had accepted each other in their lives. She was on cloud nine. If she could have it her way, she wouldn’t leave Subrato’s side even for a second. But he had to settle in his job, do a lot of paperwork in the office as well as outside and generally get his act of relocation together. He was in control of everything and was by no means inattentive to her. But she was like a proverbial kid in the candy store. She was excited, had gone almost berserk. When Subrato was not around, she would go on shopping trips like she had never done before. She had amassed a pile of dresses and accessories in all shades of purple. The funny thing, however, was that she had never worn them. She felt incredibly nervous when the opportunity to wear any of them came for their dinner outings. She would try them, but would ultimately drop the idea and rush out wearing one of her usual dresses. Her work was clearly affected too. She hadn’t been able to read a single paper from the list Steve had given her in the entire week. Thankfully he didn’t say anything to her. Given that she always worked hard, he assumed that she would come around. Everyone deserved to be cut some slack once in a while.

“Paridhi,” Subrato had to meet some old acquaintances over breakfast on Saturday and had just returned from there. He knocked at her room door several times, but did not hear a reply. “I am coming in,” he announced as he got worried.

“No. No. No. No. No,” a worried Paridhi ran out of the attached bathroom and jumped on her bed.

“I… I am sorry,” he assumed that she was embarrassed because she was undressed and made to leave, but realized immediately that it was not the case. He turned back to be greeted by a weird site. Paridhi was sitting atop a pile of purple fabric on her bed, apparently trying to hide them. He looked attentively and realized that they were a bunch of dresses.

“What… are you doing?” he raised his eyebrows in curiosity.

“Nothing. Nothing at all. What are you doing here?” she tried to hide her embarrassment by acting defiant.

“I was… No. First you tell me. What is all this?” he pointed towards her dresses.

“What would it be? My dresses. You have a problem?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. I have never seen you wearing any of these.”

“You have been here for less than two weeks.”

“Hmm… And even the tags have not been taken out from most of them. I heard some rumors that for last one week, no socialite in New York is able to buy anything in purple. I think I know the culprit.”

She gulped, but still managed to maintain a brave front, “Stop making fun of me.”

He sat down on the bed and she got startled. She lost her balance and fell back on the bed. Subrato followed her deliberately and pinned her under him. “Stop lying to me,” his voice was hoarse.

“Okay. I bought them. So what?”

Subrato could see how nervous as well as excited she was even as she continued to act saucy. “But you didn’t use them. So, I might as well use them now. You know wrap them around us because the room is getting cold and…”

“Subrato,” her nervousness and inexperience got better of her finally.

“Wow!” he looked in her eyes and smiled mischievously, “You got the perfect pronunciation. In the first attempt.” He felt elated on hearing his name from her, but continued his little game, “So, I might just forgive you for wasting these dresses for last one week.”

He got up pulling her back with him. Paridhi felt confused. Why did he withdraw? Wouldn’t he want to… Especially after he had told her so many times that he has been in love with her for long. Did she act inappropriately? Does she need to do something differently? May be she needs to use one of the tricks the dating and relationship magazines mention. May be his emotional connection with her hasn’t resulted in sexual attraction yet.

Her attention went back to him on hearing his voice, “How about you wear this for dinner tonight?” He had picked up a shiny satin dress, “And this homely one for lunch because I am planning to cook you a great Bengali lunch today.”

That brought her out of her confused thoughts for a while. “But aren’t you tired?”

“Not at all. You like fish, I hope?”

“Yes. I do.”

“Great. I got some from the grocery store on my way back.” He kissed her on forehead and got up, “Get ready. I will be in the kitchen.”

He walked out leaving her smiling and still a little dazed and confused. She sighed and tried to put herself at ease, “He is just taking it slow. For my sake. And thank God for that! May be tonight…” she looked at the dress he had picked for her to wear at night and grinned.

“Oh God! I overate… Badly! First lunch… Now dinner…” Paridhi deposited herself on the couch looking like she won’t move an inch from there now.

“Sleep it off then,” Subrato also sat down beside her and suggested helpfully.

“No!”

“What happened?” her intensity surprised Subrato.

“Nothing… Nothing at all…” Paridhi mumbled. She didn’t want to sleep. She was hoping… But she couldn’t tell him that, could she? Without realizing she turned crimson at her thoughts.

“Paridhi? Are you all right?”

“I am fine… What has come upon you? I just don’t want to sleep right now.”

“Okay. So, what do you want to do?” he smiled.

“I… I don’t know… Or talk, I guess…”

“Great! I don’t have to make an effort, then. You are the master in that art.”

She hit him playfully on the shoulder, “If you make fun of me talking, I will never ever talk to you.”

“Really? Let’s try that. If you can stay silent in my presence for just ten minutes, I will believe you.”

“You know what… I will kill you,” Subrato’s teasing had gotten to her and she started hitting him continuously. Subrato laughed out loud and forcefully pulled her in a hug. She resisted initially, but gave up pretty soon.

He broke the hug after a while, but held her close and spoke, “There is something… very important… that I want to talk to you about.”

“What?” her eyes shone in excitement… and expectation. He cared so much for her. He would talk before taking any steps…

“I think you should get back in touch with your mother.”

Paridhi was so surprised that she jerked back. There was mixture of bewilderment and contemplation on her face, “Why are you saying this?”

Subrato thought for a moment and smiled while answering, “Your question is your answer.”

“Excuse me?”

“You did not question my suggestion that you should get back in touch with her. You only questioned me suggesting it. So, you have thought about it too. Am I right?”

She nodded still looking thoughtful.

“And I had felt that… Somewhere you are restless… worried… That’s the only reason I suggested…”

“I worry about her. But I am scared for myself too. I don’t want to… I can’t go back to those days. That stress, hopelessness and… feeling of worthlessness…”

“Paridhi. You must realize something at this stage,” he paused to see her reaction. She was looking at him expectantly. So, he continued, “The reason you were being treated like that by your family was not that you were weak or helpless. At least there was nothing in the external world that made you weak. Your weakness was within you, your obsessive need to comply with them, that sense of responsibility you had that it didn’t matter whether others did their duty towards you or not, you could not dodge what you saw as your duty… I do not mean it in a negative sense. Our love and care does make us vulnerable and weak. The reason I am talking about this is that so long as you have moved past that, that thing inside you which was letting others treat you like… like you weren’t a human, you have nothing to fear. Back then, the dynamics of your relationship with your mother was defined by her, or her set ideas of what her society considered right. If you call her now, you will have the upper hand, you will define the dynamics, you will define who is powerful and who is not. There is no reason to be scared for yourself, Paridhi. Absolutely none.”

Tears clouded her eyes and she half smiled through them. “I…” she started speaking, but stopped with a nervous laughter as if she couldn’t find words. Then she made another attempt, “You can’t be real… Am I dreaming or something? What are you made up of?”

He raised one eyebrow comically, “Seriously? That’s one hell of a thankless job I am doing. Now I don’t even exist for you?”

This made her chuckle and she leaned onto him for another hug. “Do you want me to call her now?” she asked while still in the hug.

“Whenever you want Paridhi. I am not doling out a punishment to you, am I?”

“I will do it tomorrow morning. She stays awake till late… watching her soaps.”

“All right.”

They stayed like that for a while and Paridhi did not realize that she had fallen asleep in his arms. He woke her up gently, dragged her in her sleepy state to her room and tucked her in the bed.

To be continued