Mish' Fiction

“I was out of my mind to have said that,” her self-recrimination was ruthless.

“Forget about it, okay? I am telling you to. Do you understand that?”

She nodded, still not meeting his eyes, and said, “I will go to my room. You must have work to do.”

“Don’t you want to know about the divorce papers?” he was surprised.

She shook her head, “I don’t want to know anything. Do you want me to sign it?” She was guilt-ridden.

“Do you want to sign it?”

“For a moment I had thought that I could give you what you needed in your wife, Mukundo Babu. I don’t want to be presumptuous.”

“What I am interested in knowing is whether you have considered your own options. What I said on your first day here still stands. You are young, intelligent, and beautiful, Piyali. You will have other options. I don’t want to bind you to me. That’s why those divorce papers. They weren’t prepared today. I had then prepared before you started college. So that you could be free. I just could not manage to talk to you about it. And when I did manage to bring it before you, all my plans went haywire. But your choices should not be eliminated because of my weakness.”

“The divorce papers were for my sake?”

He nodded.

“What do you want, Mukundo Babu? Not for me. But for yourself.”

“You first. What do you want? Not for me. But for yourself.”

She could not play this hide and seek any more. If he could lose control over himself like that, forget about his long-prepared divorce papers, kiss her impulsively, follow her to her room and sweep her off her feet with that seductive talk, she couldn’t pretend that she didn’t know what he wanted. She decided to speak out.

“If you had accepted this marriage in the very beginning, Mukundo Babu, I would still have respected you, and worshipped you, for being my savior, for giving me shelter, for feeding me, for restoring my dignity. But I would not have become what I have become now – somebody you could love. Even more importantly, I would not have known what it meant to know a person and slowly, but surely, fall in love with him. A little every day. Reaching a stage where you love him with your heart and soul. A love that doesn’t demand reciprocation. But if reciprocated, it would give you the ultimate nirvana. If unreciprocated, your life would still feel fulfilled.”

Mukundo smiled, an overwhelmed smile, reaching all the way up to his moist eyes. “You would do very well in English literature,” he said. Then he drew her in his arms and kissed her on forehead. She closed her eyes and expected another kiss on her lips. She had been taken by surprise last time. This time, she was ready to reciprocate. But she felt his arms loosening around her. He led her back to the table and picked up the divorce papers.

“I could make it dramatic and tear it with hands. But I think there is a shredder somewhere here. It does a more perfect job. Let’s use it.” They went to the shredder together and he let her feed the papers to it.

“Let’s go,” she said.

“Where to?”

“To your room,” she said in a flat voice, but gulped after that.

He looked at her questioningly.

“I… I want to eliminate any grounds for divorce!”

He was taken aback by her boldness. She was going to be a handful in the days to come. But he was looking forward to it.

“If you talk like that, I may not have patience to go to my bedroom,” he teased her.

“My room is closer,” she replied.

“We are already in a room.”

“What? Here?” she was suddenly nervous.

“Why not?” he gave a meaningful smile, took her to the door, and closed it. He pinned her against the closed door and kissed her. A long, deep, breathtaking kiss. She reciprocated with gusto as she felt his hands undoing the zip of her kurta.

—

They were lying in his bed later in the day. Piyali was in his arms. He remembered something and suddenly said, “I had never seen you cry earlier.”

The content, happy smile on her face disappeared. “I don’t cry before others.”

He turned on his stomach and propped himself up to look directly in her eyes, “You cry alone?”

“Sometimes.”

“Why Piyali? Why alone?”

“They always wanted me to cry. It was my little rebellion against them. To not cry when they could see.”

“Who?”

“Everyone. My family, neighbors, so called in-laws. Everybody said I should cry when I was widowed. I didn’t even know his name properly. I didn’t feel a thing. How could I cry? They threatened, cajoled, pleaded with me, to cry. For the sake of showing the world that I was a devoted wife,  a girl of character. The more they insisted, the more determined I became to not cry. Not before them. Not when they scolded me, not when they insulted me, not even when they hit me. I did cry. Because they won’t let me have fish. My food would be bland without any onion, garlic or spices. I’d eat so little, I felt weak. Later I had to cook for myself, separate from others. I cried because I had to do all housework and keep myself busy in prayers so that my widowed mind did not get corrupt. I wasn’t allowed to spend time with the girls of my age. They were married, they had kids, I shouldn’t be affected by their marital bliss and learn what it was like to be married. It would give me wrong ideas. I cried because of all this. But not before them.”

He cupped her face. “I’m sorry. Don’t think about them.” That explained why as an eighteen year old did not know anything about sexual relationships. She wasn’t allowed to talk even to her friends. Where else would she have learned about it in that small, isolated village?

“I don’t. It feels like another birth,” she smiled weakly.

“Weren’t you scared when you came here initially?”

“I was,” she said truthfully.

“You cried alone? In your room?”

She nodded looking guilty.

“Why not before me, Piyali? Why did you keep everything inside you? You didn’t think I would hurt you, did you?”

“I… I was just not used to. And then before today… I had never…”

“Never?”

“I have never spoken to my husband, had I? Your life already seemed consumed by worrying about me. I didn’t want to add more to that.”

He smiled. “That’s no longer the case, right? You are speaking to your husband and one who has no grounds to ask for divorce either,” both of them chuckled at the joke. Then he continued seriously, “Promise me you won’t do that from now on. You won’t suffer alone. Ideally, I don’t want you to cry ever, Piyali. But if you are ever upset, or hurt, you must share with me. Okay?”

“Yes,” she replied. Then added after a pause, “And you too.”

That made him laugh. “Yes. Sure.”

“Can I ask you something, Mukundo Babu?”

“Ask away my princess. Satisfy all your curiosities,” he replied playfully.

“Do you still believe in this soul-mate thing?”

His brows knitted for a moment as he thought; then said somberly, “I don’t think I really did. But now I do. I have to.”

– The End –

The door to her room was shut, but unlocked. Usually he would have knocked. But right now, it felt right to just walk in. He pushed the door gently. It did not make any sound. She was standing near the window, looking out into the garden. Her back was towards the door.

“Piyali,” he gently called her name. Even from behind, he could see that she was startled. She would have realized the oddity of him coming in just like that. He saw her hands move to her face. Probably to wipe her tears. Then she turned around and tried to behave like nothing happenede saw her ahnds .

“Yes Mukundo Babu?”

He went close to her. Too close! But she did not move back, although she averted her eyes and looked down. “So, I hear that you are okay with being my wife.”

Gosh! She had never heard him speak in that voice. It was seductive beyond her wildest imagination. She colored and gasped audibly. Her face felt hot.  He held her shoulders. She felt goose bumps rise immediately on her skin and she shivered so hard that even he could feel it.

“Do you know what it means?”

The same voice. She would swoon. She bit her lips hard to keep her senses from failing her.

“Do you know now what is one supposed to do on wedding night?”

She closed her eyes. No romance novel, no erotic scene on TV had made her feel like this. She could give her life for these few moments of ultimate bliss.

“Mukundo Babu, please,” she pleaded against his teasing.

“Answer me. I am damn serious.” His voice wasn’t changing. She would be dead soon at this rate.

She gulped and nodded.

“And how? Through biology lessons?” He was smiling now and there was a hint of amusement in his voice.

But Piyali was hypnotized. “Internet,” she answered truthfully.

He chuckled. For a moment she came out of her trance and got alarmed. Was it all a joke? But his gentle kiss on her forehead swept off all alarm.

And then all of a sudden something happened that had never happened in last four years. She started sobbing. Uncontrollably. She leaned on his chest and cried her heart out. Someone else in his position might have worried. But his training in psychology ensured that he understood the emotional outburst. Although his lover’s heart sank at her miserable crying, he did not show any signs of panic. Instead he tightened his arms around her and supported her. He let her cry. It would be cathartic. It was high time she did it.

“That’s enough,” he said only after she herself had stopped crying. He took her to the bed and gave her some water.

“I am sorry,” she said, her voice hoarse from crying.

“No. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize, or didn’t acknowledge, all these days how you felt.”

“Don’t. Please don’t,” she hastily stopped him.

“You won’t let me apologize?”

“No. Never. Not even over my dead body. You have given me my life, my dignity, my independence. You can take them away whenever you want.”

He sighed. She had already made it clear. She won’t stop worshipping him. He’d have to live with that. He just pulled her close in a gentle embrace.

They were startled by a knock on the door and separated hastily. It was Sonelal. “Mahendra Babu has come,” he announced.

“Okay. Have him seated in the hall. I will come down in a minute,” Mukundo told him. He turned to Piyali after Sonelal left, “Are you okay?”

She nodded, wiping the last drop of her tears.

“It won’t take me long. It is just some university administrative matters that he wants to discuss.”

“I will also come and say hello to him.”

“Okay.”

—

Piyali had said that she would be in the library while leaving Mukundo and Mahendra. Mukundo entered the library to the sight of a horrified Piyali. In a moment he realized what had happened. She had laid her hands on the papers he had brought to the library earlier. The divorce papers!

The papers slipped from her hands as she noticed him. She looked utterly confused and miserable and… even scared. Damn it! Mukundo had forgotten all about the papers in the heady events of the day. He should have hidden them away.

But… he checked himself. Should he have? What had happened was not planned. It was not necessarily right. She still didn’t know that she had an option. She should know, shouldn’t she?

“You want to divorce me?” she asked uncertainly before he could say anything.

“Listen to me, Piyali.”

“I… I should have known. What was I thinking?” she started blabbering to herself as she arranged the papers back. Then she made to go towards the door. “But when was I thinking anything. I was thinking nothing. Why did you…”

“Piyali,” he held her hands as she passed by him and stopped her.

“Why did you give me hope?” she asked. Her face was deadly pale and containing her emotions took so much effort on her part that she was physically tired and panting. “I may not have had much in life. But even I am not immune to dreaming, hoping and loving. I will sign this, don’t worry, but why did you give me hope?” She was complaining to him. For the first time!

“Let me explain, Piyali. I wasn’t sure about what I was feeling. I still am not. I just thought that because Alka left, I was… It may not be right for you…”

“She left. Yes… And you have needs,” she recalled Alka’s words and spouted them, “And you know what! You could have just told me that. Piyali – I don’t think our relationship has any future. But I have needs. And I need you in my bed. And I would have come. Without hesitating. Because my morals are defined by you, Mukundo Babu. Everything else I have left behind.”

That infuriated Mukundo. “That’s enough, Piyali. Shut up. Don’t speak another word like this,” he hissed as his grip around her wrists tightened.

“Why not?” she was defiant, despite her wrist starting to hurt.

“Because…” he began to give a heated reply, but suddenly stopped. What was happening to him? To them? How could there be so much distrust between them? He suddenly felt very tired. And helpless. His tone change completely. “How could you say that, Piyali? After all these years… do you really think I could do something so abominable to you?” He released her hands.

His sad and disappointed voice brought her back to her senses as well. She realized the enormity of what she had said.  Indeed! How could she have said something like that? To a man who had thought of nothing but her well-being all these years? Regret washed over her face as she stopped meeting his eyes and looked down. “Please forgive me,” she said in a quivering voice, “I don’t know what had come over me. Punish me whichever way you want, but please don’t take what I said to heart.”

When he didn’t reply for a few moments, still hurt by her earlier accusation, she grew desperate and fell on her knees before him. “Please forgive me,” silent tears started flowing from her eyes.

“What the hell,” he was startled out of his stupor. He stepped back instinctively, “What are you doing, you stupid girl. Get up. For God’s sake, get up.”

“Please forgive me,” she folded her hands and was openly sobbing now. Second time in the day. Second time in all these years.

—

To be continued

Did that explain all his peculiarities? Piyali thought later, when she was alone. Despite being this nice, principled, kind and lovable person, whom everyone liked, he was inherently insecure. Because of Aporna’s deceit. Something he had never been able to deal with. When he came to know about it, she was already gone and he could not confront her. To top that, being the thoughtful person he was, he didn’t even want to tell anyone about it. It won’t do to badmouth the dead! There had been no catharsis for his most deep-seated pain.

Knowing this, it wasn’t surprising that he shied away from relationships, especially marriage. He could have claimed that he loved his wife too much to move on. But that would have been a lie, a difficult one to maintain given that all he probably felt for her was hatred. And because he couldn’t express his real insecurities, he disguised his decision behind this façade of waiting for a soul-mate.

It was a hypothesis. A plausible one, she thought, but was it correct? If so, could she do something about it?

—

What the hell! He woke up and felt strange. Why was he dreaming about her? And in such a fashion? He sat up, switched on the light and took a sip from the water glass. He could no longer ignore it. He had been obsessing over her for a while now. She was now very different from the scared, mousy child widow he had brought home. Eating well and living in comfort had filled her body up at just the right places. She dressed well, had a confident demeanor, sweet temperament and beautiful, lovely face. “I hadn’t thought that I’d be telling you this, when  you had brought her home, Mukundo,” Alka had told him before leaving, “After all, there was no knowing what she’d grow into. She might have proved herself to be uncouth, stupid and unwilling to learn. She might have grown vain or irritable. She might not have had the strength to become what you wanted her to become. But none of that happened. She has grown into exactly the woman you can love.” He jerked himself out of his wayward thoughts. That’s the problem, he decided. Alka has left. My hormones are playing a trick on my mind. He picked out the divorce papers from the drawer of his side-table. No more procrastination. He would do it tomorrow. She must be freed before she fell prey to his weaknesses and her devotion which won’t let her protest.

—

“What are you reading?” Mukundo found her at the desk in the library and could already guess what she would be reading. But he asked anyway.

“Your manuscript. I hope that’s all right.” It was the manuscript which he was hoping to complete in Uttarpara. His first attempt at writing a fiction. He had thought he’d need to get away from his familiar surroundings to get inspiration. But nothing worked out as planned! His vacation was interrupted. And after coming back, he hadn’t felt motivated to pick that manuscript up again. He had been busy with his academic writing. After Alka left, he felt the need to take up something else. He recalled the neglected manuscript and restarted working on it. Now, it seemed to be heading somewhere.

“Yeah. What do you think?”

“Your observations are… spot on…”

“But?”

“No ‘but’.”

“There was a ‘but’.  I could feel it. Come on. Tell me.”

“Your observations are spot on. But you have put your own words in your character’s mouth.” He had reached near her now. He kept the papers he had brought with him on the desk.

“How so?”

“For example this one. Where Soumitra thinks that his comeback is irrational and stupid, but he has always heard people using that comeback to win arguments. So, he uses it anyway. Soumitra is not capable of such objective observations about his surroundings. It is true that his comeback is irrational and stupid. It is true that he uses it only because he has always heard people use it to win arguments. But he can’t connect the two. He uses that comeback almost mechanically. You know the way you always pick up the water glass from your room, but deposit it in the kitchen sink, mechanically.”

“I do that?”

“Yes. You didn’t even know?”

“No. And you did?”

She nodded. He looked at her with expressions she couldn’t read. Then before she knew what happened, he dug his right hand into the hair at the back of her head, pulled her close and attacked her lips. She was baffled. She couldn’t respond or react. He let go soon and then looked miserable. She progressed in other direction. She grew collected and a slight smile formed on her lips as it started making sense.

“Oh God!” he mumbled, “I’m sorry…”

“Sorry?”

“Look. Don’t be scared. I was… I don’t know… It won’t happen again…”

“Scared? Don’t be an idiot, Mukundo Babu.”

It was Mukundo’s turn to be startled. Idiot? That frankness, and sauciness, was not something he had ever seen in her. She smiled and moved away. He stood rooted to his place for a while, completely stupefied. By his own abrupt behavior, and by her calm reaction to it. Then he rushed after her.

“Wait Piyali.”

She was at the door by then. She stopped immediately and turned. She looked serene, and in control.

“What did you mean?” he asked somewhat foolishly.

“Why were you sorry? I am your wife,” she replied with downcast eyes, but confident voice.

“My wife?”

She shrugged. Wasn’t it obvious?

“And you are okay with that?” he asked finally getting his bearings together.

For the first time she showed any signs of being upset, “You think I am not okay with that? Why?”

“You had no say in our so called marriage. Nobody had asked you. And I can’t even be sure if you were old enough to legally say ‘yes’. You were so young. You still are… Do you even know how much older I am… You shouldn’t get carried away just because you are grateful…”

He stopped as he saw her eyes getting moist. He waited for her to recover. She blinked back her tears and broke the silence. “Alka didi had told me that you would never accept me if I kept worshipping you. Your soul-mate has to be an equal, she had said. She was right. She had said that I should be my rational self with you. I can be so Mukundo Babu. But will it stop me from worshipping you? I’m afraid that is not going to happen. Even loving you cannot stop me from worshipping you. Even if that means losing you. Or rather… Never getting you. What do I have which I will lose?” She ran away from there, leaving Mukundo confounded.

Things had indeed changed! She wasn’t the terrified, confused kid he had brought away from her oppressive paternal home. She was a grown up woman, who knew her mind. Better than he did his own. She knew what and whom she wanted. She knew what she could or could not do. She had proved him more than right. She had grown up to be independent. She wouldn’t let anyone walk over her. Not even him. She was confident about whatever she was. Even about her worshipping him. She wouldn’t forsake it even for him! “Even if that means losing you. Or rather… Never getting you.” Those words would remain vivid in his memory for years to come!

—

To be continued

“Was he angry?” Alka asked anxiously, when this incident came up in their conversation.

“No. But… You shouldn’t… I mean, needn’t have told him. He was unnecessarily anxious. Why did you do that?”

Alka smiled, “I think for the good of the two of you.”

Piyali frowned and did not reply. Alka spoke again, “Don’t be bothered about me, Piyali. I am leaving Kolkata soon.”

“What? Why?”

“I don’t stay anywhere for long. That’s how I am. Somehow, it has been almost six years here. Longer than any other place. It feels unreal. I have an offer from Delhi University…”

“Does he know?” she asked anxiously.

“Not yet. I will tell him.”

“He will… he will be heart-broken. Why are you going?” Between them, this was first open acknowledgement of Alka’s and Mukundo’s relationship.

“Don’t worry…”

“Is it because of me? Did I come between you two?”

“Good you asked, Piyali,” Alka sighed, “The answer is no. You didn’t come between us. Because there was nothing which you could come in between.”

“Let’s not pretend today, Didi,” Piyali said miserably, “This marriage means nothing to him. And I don’t, I can’t expect it to mean anything. I already owe him my life for what he has done for him. I don’t need anything more.”

“Don’t you love him Piyali?”

“Like a devotee loves his God.”

“Is that all?”

“Yes.”

“Most devotees don’t have a problem in getting married to normal mortals despite their love for God. Would you get married to someone else?”

Piyali was startled. An explanation dawned on her. Why hadn’t she thought of it earlier? “Is that your problem? That I am married to him?”

“Would you get married to someone else? That is my question. I don’t have any problems.”

Her voice trembled, “I don’t think so. But if he would let me, I’d go away. Don’t leave him because of me, Didi. If he is unhappy…”

“Piyali! Listen to me very carefully. I know it might be hard to believe. But ours is a relationship of convenience. Even Gods have needs. Physical needs. Your Mukundo Babu has that too. And so do I. We don’t have an emotional connect. We are not lovers and my going away is not going to give him any emotional scars. Do you understand?”

Piyali stared at her in astonishment.

“We’d be miserable if we married,” Alka added in softer tone, “I’m a free bird. I have been in ten cities since I began my career. And he? If he could afford it, he wouldn’t take a single step out of Kolkata. But it doesn’t show any stability on his part. I’d go mad at the kind of things he does. He had sold off a car within two months of buying it because it got a little scratch. Getting it repainted won’t do for him. He would not attend a party given by a colleague because he cracks sexist jokes. How is one to explain it to all the friends and colleagues? And yes. The one time he stepped out of Kolkata, he came back married! To you. I mean, seriously? Is that how people get married? How he reached Darjeeling, you already know. He did that despite knowing that there was blockage and there were no casualties. A year ago, when I had asked him to come there with me, he had refused. I had gone alone.”

Piyali was still silent. It had all been a revelation and difficult to digest. Then a questioned popped up in her mind. “That’s how you think. But what about him?”

“He thinks the same way, Piyali. I you don’t believe me, ask Mahendra.”

Piyali recalled some of Mukundo’s conversations with Mahendra. And it fitted in with what Alka was trying to convince her of.

“Why didn’t he marry, Alka Didi? Surely, he would have found someone with whom…”

“He was married once. You didn’t know?”

“No. To whom?” Piyali was surprised.

“I think her name was Aporna. She died in an accident. It has been a while.”

“Ohh!” Piyali was thoughtful. How come there was nothing in the house that hinted of him being married once? Their marriage was not planned. He couldn’t have removed earlier photos or other artifacts because of that!

“And since then he thinks he’d marry only when he finds his soul-mate. He won’t try to find someone or get married. Apparently we mortals can’t do match-making. I don’t know how that fits in with his usual atheism and rationalism. But that’s how he is.” Piyali also wondered about that. It didn’t fit his beliefs at all.

“Did he love her so much that he could not get married again?” she asked more as a way of carrying on the conversation than out of actual curiosity.

“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask him?”

“Me?” she was startled, “No. How can I ask?”

“Why not? It’s not like he is going to scold you.”

“No. But…”

“At worst, he would refuse to talk. Are you so egoistic that you can’t tolerate that?”

This made Piyali laugh, “Egoistic? Before him? You couldn’t have thought of a funnier joke, Didi.”

“I have an advice for you,” Alka said sincerely.

“What is it?”

“Listen carefully…”

—

Mukundo seemed more relaxed than usual after Alka left. At least there were no signs of distress. Given that Alka was right on that count, Piyali decided to put more faith in other things she had suggested. She decided to ask him about Aporna.

“Mukundo Babu?” They were in the library on a Sunday afternoon.

“Yes?” he noticed her nervous countenance. What was up with her?

“Can I ask you something? If you don’t want to answer, just say so. I won’t insist. But don’t be angry.”

“Stop beating around the bush, Piyali. Tell me. What is bothering you?”

“You never told me that you were married once. Your wife… How did she die?”

Mukundo was startled. He kept the book he was holding aside. Piyali wringed her hands nervously, as he appeared lost in thoughts.

“Who told you about her?” he finally asked.

“Nobody told me. Alka Didi had just mentioned it once. If you don’t want to…”

“What do you want to know?”

“I… I don’t know… Actually I was surprised that I never realized this earlier. There are no signs in the house… Did you live elsewhere?”

Mukundo took a deep breath. “No,” he said, “We lived in the same house. Pull up the chair. I will tell you everything.”

The match was arranged by Mukundo’s mother, who died soon after their marriage from her illness. Mukundo and Aporna met each other, like each other well enough and said ‘yes’ to the marriage. Life was good. No major ups, no major downs. The accident happened about three years after  their marriage. A road accident. It killed her. He had not believed the news at first. The accident had happened in an area she had no reason for going. The bodies were badly mutilated. There must have been some mistake. He was expecting her to walk back into the house anytime. But she didn’t walk in. Postmortem and DNA reports confirmed her identity. And then the mystery of her presence there unveiled as police investigated the incident. She was having an affair. With a classmate from college. The neighbors in that area had seen them together for at least two years now. Some even believed them to be married.

It was a double whammy for him. Should he mourn the loss of his wife, or loss of her faithfulness? But there was nothing he could do, except to go on with life. He suppressed the story of her infidelity as much as possible. He didn’t tell any relatives. Despite his best efforts, the information did reach her parents in the course of police investigation. Their situation on learning this was similar to his. They didn’t know what to mourn about.

“Nobody else knows?” she asked gently.

He shook his head.

“Alka Didi?”

He frowned as he replied, “No. Why should she?”

—

To be continued

Mukundo sprang out of the sofa as he heard the news. Alka was in the kitchen making tea, while he was watching TV in her living room.

“Alka!”

“What happened?” she came out on hearing his panicked cry.

“There has been a landslide near Darjeeling.”

“Ohh!” she understood his alarm. Piyali had gone to Darjeeling on a college trip.

“I am leaving,” he announced.

“Where for?”

“Darjeeling.”

“What? Wait. Do we even know the details…”

But he did not wait and almost ran out of her apartment. She turned her attention towards the news report being telecasted. She called him after half an hour.

“They are repeatedly saying that there are no casualties, Mukundo. In a day or two, the road route will be reconnected and everyone will be back.”

“I can’t reach her on phone.”

“That is always the case when something like this happens. I am sure she is fine.”

“I will talk to you later. I have to catch a flight in an hour.”

“Flight? To?”

“Bagdogra.”

“From there you still have to take a road. And the road is blocked, Mukundo.”

“I can’t just sit here. Bye.”

—

Mukundo found a hotel as close to the blockage as possible and practically stayed parked exactly where the road was blocked. They didn’t let anyone pass through that day. They will still clearing and repairing the road. It was dangerous. Early next morning, pedestrians were allowed. The place was still too far from Darjeeling. So, it was useful only for those who stayed nearby and were stranded away from home. But Mukundo left his rented vehicle at the hotel and walked on with as much cash as he could carry. He hitchhiked, took lifts or paid for transportation by any means possible, without bothering about his security. On reaching Darjeeling, he headed straight to the hotel where he knew her group was staying.

“Mukundo Babu!” Piyali was surprised beyond imagination, “How did you reach here? And so soon?”

He surprised her even further, when instead of replying, he went ahead and hugged her. “Thank God, you are safe.”

“Yes. I am fine. Calm down,” she could feel how anxious he was. What else could inspire someone to reach there in such a short time and under such impossible circumstances?

“Your phone was unreachable.”

“Everybody’s is. Even hotel landline was not working. Else I would have informed you. I am so sorry.”

“It’s okay. Not your fault,” he was finally relaxing.

“How did you come? They said blockage was still there.”

“You will find out as we go back. We will leave immediately. I don’t want to risk staying for another landslide. Pack up. Meanwhile I will find a taxi that can take us till the blockage.”

—

They took a taxi till the blockage, crossed it on feet, picked up his rented vehicle from the hotel on the other side, drove to Bagdogra and took the first flight back to Kolkata. He toyed with the divorce papers again at the night.

Soon! He decided yet again.

—

“She worships you, Mukundo,” Alka told him.

“And I am not a God.”

“Right. But my guess is that if it came to that, you would protect her with your life.”

“That’s your reading of my impulsive nature. Yes – I am like that.”

“Mukundo. I am serious. It is not unthinkable, you know. You and her…”

“What the hell! Has Mahendra corrupted your mind or something? Yes – she worships me. She is so grateful to me that… that if I ask her to go back to the same hell where she came from, she would do even that. For my sake. But it doesn’t mean that she and I… Even if everything else can be kept aside, our age-gap is too big Alka. It doesn’t make sense. And the reason I had brought her here was so that she can have a dignified life. She should be able to make her own choices in life. That marriage was not her choice.”

“Do you know what she told the neighbor who questioned her about your relationship…”

“Why is anyone questioning her about our relationship? If anyone is, I’d take care of it.”

Alka sighed. He was in no mood to listen. “All right. Forget it. Why am I wasting the little time that we have. With these exams and all…” She tried to kiss him, but he stopped her.

“Not now, Alka. I am not in mood. I am going home.” He got up from the bed abruptly and left.

Alka was not surprised. The psychologist was not able to see for himself that he was in denial! He had been distant for a while now. And as someone who had grown to know him intimately, she knew the reason very well. That fool was in love with his wife, and not able to accept it. And with a wife, who would lay her life if he gave the least indication that that’s what he wanted! He didn’t realize how much of his time and life revolved around her and how much he talked about her. How obsessively he tried to know about her small, little needs and fulfill them! How were her studies going? Did she manage to buy all her books? Was her library subscription expiring? How would she go to college? Could Alka check with her if she needed to go shopping? He didn’t know what she liked to eat and she never told him anything. Did their TV subscription have all the channels she wanted to watch? Was she finally able to make friends in college? Was she making the right kind of friends? And now, was she being troubled by the neighbors?

For the last one, Alka would have some explanation to do before Piyali when she met her next.

—

“You have been having trouble with neighbors?” She was back from college, when he reached home. And he lost no time in questioning her.

“Trouble? What trouble?”

“Someone asked you something? About me, about us?”

Piyali was surprised; and felt betrayed. Why would Alka go and tell him about it? It was an unspoken understanding between them that they didn’t talk about Mukundo and whatever was discussed between them didn’t reach him.

She decided to tell him that. “That was a long time ago, Mukundo Babu. And nothing happened that you should be angry about. I didn’t say anything…”

“What did you say?”

She fell silent.

“I am asking you something. What did you say?” he was annoyed.

“Why are you being so insistent?” she asked gently, and somewhat nervously.

“Why? Because I have brought you here. Nobody has a right to question that. And if you are facing a problem, I should know. I expect you to tell me.”

“There is no problem, Mukundo Babu. It was a long time ago and I gave her a reply that silenced her forever.”

“What did you say?” he repeated his earlier question.

She gulped and averted her eyes. She spoke slowly, weighing each word, “I told her that you were like The One after whom you were named. Lord Krishna. He married sixteen thousand queens, to save them from society’s cruel insinuations. That didn’t make his character questionable. Rather it made him the God. Unless she thought she was great enough to question Lord Krishna’s character, she had no right of questioning yours.”

Mukundo stared at her in astonishment. Two conflicting feelings were clamoring for his acceptance. The first one didn’t like this entire “marrying women to save them from society” idea. It was so utterly regressive and it established women as someone who could not have an identity separate from men. He hoped that Piyali did not believe that. But the second feeling was that of… It took him a few moments to identify it. It was a feeling of pride. She had silenced the woman in the best possible way. A comeback that she would have had no answer to!

“I know you find the idea regressive,” Piyali started explaining after a pause, because she was worried about his reaction, “And I agree with you. It was just…”

“It was a witty answer,” he interrupted with a smile to assure her, “Well done!”

Piyali thought her heart would literally swell with pride. He appreciated her!

“And you are right. I find the idea too regressive. I acted on it amongst people who were regressive. But you shouldn’t try to live your life with those standards. I am no Lord Krishna and…”

“I know. You want me to become independent. I want so too. And I will do it.”

“Good!”

—

To be continued