Category: English

Coming Around (Part 11)

Posted Mish7 CommentsPosted in English, Original, Subrato-Paridhi

“Hi Stacey. This is… Subrato.”

“Subrato?” she didn’t know how to respond. They hadn’t spoken in over a year. They had even blocked each other on Facebook to avoid awkwardness. “Hi…” she added after a hesitant pause.

“Don’t be alarmed. It’s nothing about the past. I do need an unrelated favor, however. It is really, really important for me.”

“Anything I can do,” she sounded almost eager. She probably wanted to assuage her guilt about the way she treated him. Right now, Subrato did not mind exploiting it.

“It might be uncomfortable for you, but there is nothing wrong in it. It is really a question of someone’s entire life.”

“Why are you beating around the bush, Subrato?”

“I hope you remember something about the arranged marriage tradition in India I had told you about. There is an Indian guy in your office. He is an engineer, not a designer. But I was hoping you could tell me something about him.”

“What.. can.. I… tell…”

As Subrato had guessed, it was an uncomfortable proposition for her.

“Anything you know. Especially if there is a red flag. Just think if there is any reason why you wouldn’t want your best friend to be engaged to him. His name in Aniket Chauhan…”

“Hold on. Say that name again.”

“Aniket… Aniket Chauhan,” Subrato americanized his pronunciation of the name to help her place him in her memory easily.

“That Indian guy… he is a test engineer if I am not wrong. He had a major accident a few months back. He is the one getting married?”

“Yeah. Why? You sound surprised.”

“I, of course, am… He can’t get married. Not after the accident.”

“What has happened?”

Subrato heard in shock what Stacey told him next.

“Do you… happen to have a photo of him Stacey? Any office photo?” he asked after she was done.

“I do. There was an office party recently. But…”

“It won’t be traced to you. Trust me on this. Please. I need to be sure we are talking about the same guy”

“Okay… Fine…”

—

“Catherine!” Subrato spotted her in the academic area and called her.

“Yes Sir.”

“Where is Paridhi? I haven’t seen her for last one week. She had one of my books…”

Catherine gave a knowing smile. His excuse for asking about Paridhi was rather lame. “She has gone to Allahabad. She wasn’t feeling well.”

“In the middle of the trimester. Just like that?”

“I don’t understand her these days. You can call her about the book.”

“Her phone is switched off. Would you happen to have her home number?”

“I, in fact, do. Tell me your mobile number. I will SMS it to you.”

“Thanks. Please note down…”

—

One full ring had gone unanswered on the landline number Catherine had given him. Feeling hopeless, he still decided to give it another try. It got answered this time. And the voice made his heart skip a beat. It was definitely her.

“Paridhi?” he asked.

“Don’t call me again. I will get in trouble.”

“Meet me once, please. It is very important. I won’t do anything you find inappropriate. But there is something about Aniket you need to know. Please Paridhi….”

The phone was disconnected. He grew more and more agitated. He didn’t know that she was crying at the other end. “I’m sorry,” she was mumbling repeatedly holding the phone close to her heart. She wasn’t angry at him. She was angry at herself.

She couldn’t just throw away her studies like that though. She had to go back. She decided to take the train to Lucknow that afternoon itself. She was in his office before dinner time.

His relief on seeing her was obvious.

“How are you?” he asked.

“I am fine. Aniket is coming for engagement after all. Here is your invitation.”

He took it from her with a trembling hand.

“Do you have a photo of Aniket?”

“Why?” she did not get his drift at all.

“Just humour me. Do you have one? If yes, please show it to me.”

“Mummy had sent me some initially. They should be in my mailbox.”

“Please use the laptop and download them for me.”

She was completely confused, but she humored him as he had asked. He knew the face well by now. He had stared at the photo Stacey had sent for too long. They were of the same person. All, except one, photographs of Aniket that Paridhi had showed only the upper body. The only full-length photograph was obviously old.

“Can you please sit down, Paridhi?”

She obliged.

“I have a photograph of his as well,” he said finally, “which you must look at.” And he handed her a copy.

She was shocked. “What is this… A wheelchair?”

“It’s not just about the wheelchair. His… He had a major accident few months back. It’s the entire lower body…. He shouldn’t get married Paridhi. His parents are playing a big game…”

“Stop!” she almost shouted in anger.

“Paridhi!”

“You are the one playing a game… I respected you so much. I trusted you so much… And this is how… If you had asked me to rebel against my family for you… I might have relented… But this… this dirty, pathetic game… No. You can’t play this with me. I am not an idiot. And I hate you!”

“Paridhi, there is no game.”

“Not a word more. This time… I am not running away from you. I am going to stay in the campus. But don’t you dare come near me or try to talk to me.”

“Please listen to me… This is…”

But she didn’t wait and stormed out of the room.

—

Paridhi threw herself on her bed in the hostel room and buried her face in the pillow. Nothing made any sense to her. She took a look at the photograph of Aniket in a wheelchair that Subrato had handed over to her. It was with a group of people. Possibly in his office. She made to throw the photograph away, but didn’t finally do that. A part of her wanted to throw it away. But another part of her couldn’t suspect Subrato of playing a game the way she had accused him of. But if he was indeed playing a game, wasn’t she herself responsible for it? Didn’t she practically throw herself at him? Wasn’t she already aware of her feelings? Shouldn’t she have stepped back instead of relying on him not getting affected by them? If he was playing a game, she was responsible for it. She was at fault! Always! So, even if she shouted at him, blamed him, accused him, she’d have to ensure that nothing goes wrong from now on. But what was she to do? Aniket and his family were not going to get any better. Her mother won’t start looking at the world in a different way. What would happen to her? To her family whom she was trying so hard to please!

She thrust the photograph in a bag that she’d take with her to Allahabad and tried to concentrate on other things. Not that it was working out for her!

She was at fault! Always!

—

To be continued

Coming Around (Part 10)

Posted Mish7 CommentsPosted in English, Original, Subrato-Paridhi

She came to his office a couple of days later. She knocked and walked in without waiting for his permission. He realized that it had become her habit for quite sometime now. Especially when she was sure nobody else was inside.

“Hi!”

“Hi Paridhi. You had some work?”

“No. I came… Just like that…”

“I thought you would be busy.”

“Why did you think that?”

“Last term. Placements. Then your wedding preparations… When is it anyway?”

She sighed.

“What happened?” he asked.

“I didn’t come to bother you with these things. I just thought… I actually have a lot of time in hand. I am applying only to selected companies for placement. There are only three courses to be done this term. Can I continue the independent study project? Not for credit, of course. Just to keep myself busy.”

“You can, if you want to. But what are you trying to run away from?”

“It’s a daily roller-coaster. They neither leave me out of it, nor do I have any say in it.”

“What happened?”

“Every other day, there seems to be a problem. Sometimes about jewelry, sometimes about dates for engagement and wedding, sometimes about nothing at all…”

“If the families have so much problem, why do they want the wedding?”

“God knows.”

“Probably they enjoy the dance. It is part of the ritual. You shouldn’t bother.”

“How do I not bother? Mummy keeps calling. And when she gives me some respite, Dadi is more than willing to fill the void.”

“Is it worth it, Paridhi?”

“Don’t give me more self-doubts than what I already have.”

“I am sorry. Do you have any specific ideas about the project, you’d like to work on?”

“Not really. You must be working further, right? What was your plan?”

“I was thinking of extending the study to other Indian states of that time. Nizams in Hyderabad, for example. You can pick up one such state to study. We can also do comparisons of the economic policies of different states.”

“Sounds good. Anything to get me started?”

“I will send you an e-mail.”

“Okay. I will see you later.”

He saw her walking out. She looked pale and sickly, her mental agony showing up in her physical condition too. Her gait was listless. The question she had refused to answer kept bugging him. Was it worth it? Will it really make her mother happy? What was the guarantee? And even if it did, for how long? Won’t her unhappiness and disappointment seep back into her mother’s life too? And if it didn’t, if her problems would never bother her mother, was such a mother worth all the sacrifices?

And for some reason, his own old pain came back to fore. It hurt him until he had to ask. Was Stacey worth all the pain and hurt he was carrying? Probably not. He should move on. He wanted to move on. Move on to what? To whom?

—

It was a Saturday evening. She had gone to Allahabad, her home, for the weekend. Her mother wanted her there to help with preparations. And Subrato was pacing up and down his living room thinking constantly about her. Nothing about this impending wedding sounded right. Apart from the short conversation she had with Aniket before the term started, she had not talked to him at all. He was too busy, according to his parents. So, even the wedding could not happen before June. Paridhi’s mother wanted at least the engagement to happen soon, if he could not come for long enough to get the wedding done. The promised dowry money was being given to Aniket’s parents in installments almost every week. When they raised concerns about the expense of his coming to India twice – once for engagement and then again for wedding, her family had gone ahead and offered to pay for his India trip for engagement, in addition to the already absurdly high dowry. He was to come in the last week of February for the engagement. It was already nearing the end of January and hence all the hurry of preparations on Paridhi’s mother part.

Subrato was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of doorbell. It was past seven in the evening. Who would it be at this hour? Definitely not a student. He opened the door still preoccupied with his thoughts of her. It was like a personification of his thoughts. It was her at the door.

“What happened? You came back already?” he asked as he stepped aside to let her in.

She looked like she was just waiting from come inside in the privacy of his house. She started sobbing even before he had closed the door behind them.

“Hey. What’s wrong? Stop crying Paridhi. Talk to me.”

She was about to slump on the floor, when he caught her, “That’s enough. Stop crying. Come here. Sit down.”

“As soon as the money for his tickets was given to them, they changed the plan,” she was able to talk only after a couple of minutes.

“Changed the plan?”

“He is not getting any leaves. So, he will come directly for wedding. Mummy freaked out and…”

“And she blames you.”

Paridhi nodded.

“Don’t listen to her. She is just disturbed.”

“She… And Dadi… They said things I don’t have the heart to repeat.”

“This has to stop Paridhi. This can’t be healthy. You can’t marry this guy. You can’t go to such a greedy family.”

“They have already pocketed at least seven lacs rupees of dowry.”

“Who cares!”

“My family does. They won’t let go. Let’s not talk about that. Please. I… I have to adjust. I just don’t know…”

He held her by her shoulders and pulled her in a gentle hug. She did not resist. “This is not fair,” he mumbled, “You don’t deserve this. Please don’t let them do this to you.” His gentle embrace tightened into an intimate hug effortlessly. From both their sides.

She came to her senses first and pulled herself away. Subrato looked lost for a moment before the realization dawned on him. Damn it! He was no longer just her confidant. He was no longer just an observer in her story. He was a participant in it. Whether he willed it or not.

But before he could gather his thoughts and say anything, he heard her mumble, “This isn’t right. This is disastrous. Do you understand that?”

She didn’t wait for his reply despite asking the question and ran out of there. Subrato helplessly sank into a chair lying nearby.

That night he made the call he had been unable to make up his mind about.

—

To be Continued

Coming Around (Part 9)

Posted Mish12 CommentsPosted in English, Original, Subrato-Paridhi

“Steve. Take her without thinking twice. She will be a great asset. Great aptitude for research and hard-working,” Subrato was speaking to an acquaintance in New York University, when Paridhi came in. He quickly finished the conversation, “It is some unearthly hour there, Steve. I will call you back later. Bye.”

Paridhi had come back from home after a short break between the trimesters.

“Congratulations Paridhi. You are still the topper after last trimester’s result,” he welcomed her.

“I myself haven’t collected the grade-sheet. How do you know?”

“It is not some super-secret. We have access to the grade sheets of all students.”

“Right. I was worried about the grade in independent study,” she teased him, “The prof was so difficult to please.”

“You managed to scrape through,” Subrato also replied in jest and both of them laughed. “So, how was the break?”

“I spoke to him finally. Just for a few minutes.”

“Spoke to whom? Oh! You finance?”

“Yeah. Aniket Chauhan. That’s his name. I guess I never told you that.”

“You didn’t. I had started wondering if you knew yourself. Anyway, how did it go?”

“It was just how-are-you-i-am-fine conversation. But I did tell him that I intend to pursue a Ph. D. or get a job there. He said that was fine with him.”

“That’s… That’s great Paridhi. So, you are feeling better now?”

“I am indeed. May be this great Indian arranged marriage drama will work out all right.”

“I’m very happy for you. So, what else did you do?”

“Went Lehanga shopping,” she grinned, “Now help me. I have these photos from the trials. Tell me which one looks good.”

“Arr… Me? I am not an expert.”

“I’m not asking for an expert opinion. Here, see these,” she handed her mobile phone to him. It had photos of hers in different lehangas. Something made him feel very uncomfortable as he went through those photos. But making his choice was not difficult. It was purple lehanga with heavy silver work that caught his attention. It looked very good on her.

“This one,” he showed the photo to her.

“Wow! I liked this too. But everyone thought I should get something in red or related shades.”

“Like I said I am not an expert. They probably know better.”

“But for this one thing, the final choice is mine. I am going with the purple one.”

“Sure?”

“Yes.”

“By the way, which company does Aniket work for?”

“He works for Praxis Solutions, their offshore Indian arm actually. But he has been on site for last 2 years in New York.”

“Praxis Solutions?” Subrato asked looking tense.

“Yes. Why? Some problem?”

“No. No. Nothing like that. So, things are looking great for you. Only one trimester left here.”

“Yes. And I have only three courses this trimester. It is going to be very light.”

“And placements?”

“I won’t hear from the universities before placements, will I?”

“Unlikely.”

“Then yes – placement madness too.”

“You would prefer a Ph. D. over a job? Assuming you get one that takes you to US?”

“You yourself said I would do better in a Ph. D.”

“That was my assessment. But what do you want?”

“I trust your assessment.”

“You shouldn’t trust anyone blindly.”

She laughed at that, “Sometimes it is my fate. At least here, it is my choice. Anyway. So, Mummy is very happy with my compliance. So, I have some extra pocket-money this time. Not enough to pay you the application fees back. But I can take you out for a nice dinner.”

“That’s great. But you shouldn’t be spending your extra pocket-money on me.”

“Who should I be spending it on?”

“I don’t know. Yourself. Your friends.”

“Why are you being so pricey. You don’t want to come with me?”

“Arr… No. No. I was just… trying to be nice?”

“Don’t then. Are you free tonight?”

“Very much.”

“I will meet you at the institute gate at quarter to seven, then.”

“Okay Ma’am. Whatever you say.”

—

“You were also in New York, right?” Paridhi asked during their ride to the restaurant.

“Yeah.”

“You must know the place very well then.”

“Like the back of my hand. I had assumed it would be my home for rest of my life.”

“And then you landed in Lucknow!” Paridhi chuckled, “Plan on going back?”

“I have two-year contract with the institute. Will see after that. Haven’t made up my mind.”

“Do you like it here?”

“In parts.”

“Which parts do you like?”

He grinned, “Being mistaken as a first year MBA student. That is very flattering.”

“Shut up. It’s not fair to bring that up. I made a fool of myself, all right.”

“Well – you asked the question.”

She pouted and did not reply.

“I also like our dinner dates. So long as your mother-in-law doesn’t intervene.”

“Stop making fun of me.”

“You don’t seem to appreciate genuineness. Am I supposed to say that I like the greenery on the campus, the academic environment, the director and the PGP chairman?”

“I give up!”

“Here we are. Falaknuma at Clark Awadh. This would be extremely expensive. Are you sure we are going here?”

“I have cash with me. If I run out of it, you can pay the balance. I won’t pay for any hard drinks, by the way.”

“I won’t dare being caught drinking with an underage girl!”

“What the… I am not underage!”

Subrato laughed out loud, “I know. I was just pulling your leg. If I can be a first year MBA student, you’d very much be underage. Come now.”

—

It was another restless night for Subrato. Why the hell had she worn a purple dress to the dinner? He had not commented on it, but he could not put her image in that dress out of his mind. The color did indeed suit her well. But why did she…

And her fiance was at Praxis Solutions. Their New York office. Should he? Should he not? Will it be a help or an interference?

—

To be continued

Coming Around (Part 8)

Posted Mish6 CommentsPosted in English, Original, Subrato-Paridhi

Subrato twisted and turned in his bed that night. This hadn’t been unusual since the fateful day Stacey had walked out on him and he had flushed the ring down the toilet. But lately that pain had started fading away. Today it was something else that was keeping him awake. The tear-stained face of Paridhi. He could not stop comparing the happy-go-lucky girl he had met on the train to Lucknow just a few months back to this dejected, sad girl he knew now. It wasn’t fair. She was intelligent. She was caring… Despite her mother’s unfair, almost cruel attitude, she cared about her. She deserved better in return. But what could be done? He felt quite helpless. If she wanted to rebel, there were ways to help her. But what she wanted… To keep everyone happy… It was impossible to do anything about it… And who the hell was this guy, supposedly her fiance, who had no interest in talking to her. Subrato had seen his fair share of arranged marriages amongst his family and friends. Nobody got married like this in 21st century.

He fell asleep only in the wee hours of morning and was annoyed when a furious knock on the door woke him up.

“Paridhi? What are you doing here?” he was barely able to keep his eyes open.

“Did you fall sick? You had pani-puri last night? You shouldn’t have had it… Why did you have to compete with me…” her verbal diarrhea was back full on.

“Stop. Calm down. I am just sleepy because I slept late. Who told you I was sick?”

“You didn’t come to your class,” she mumbled realizing that she might have panicked unnecessarily.

“What class… What time is it… Oh God! Didn’t my alarm go off?”

“You didn’t answer your cell phone either. Many people called.”

“But this is Macroeconomics. First year class. How did you know?”

“Their entire section was celebrating not having an 8 ‘o class… But I… unnecessarily disturbed your sleep… I will leave…”

“Wait. Come in. Give me a minute.”

He went back inside his room and came out after washing his face and brushing his teeth. The look of embarrassment was clear on Paridhi’s face as she sat on the edge of a chair in his hall.

“Now, don’t look so disconcerted,” he grinned at her.

“I got worried,” she mumbled.

“I am not surprised. You care. A bit too much.”

“Is that a bad thing?” her question sounded earnest.

“No. That’s the sweetest thing in the world. Given how uncaring and insensitive most people are… it is the rarest and the sweetest quality. But yes – you do run the risk of people taking advantage of you.”

“But you won’t do that, would you?” she grew emotional.

He looked at her for a moment before answering, “No. I won’t.”

They sat in silence for a minute. He was looking at her, while her eyes were downcast. Finally, she looked up and said, “I should leave now.”

“No. Wait. You have come here for the first time. Let me at least get you some tea.”

“You make it yourself?”

“I don’t have an army of servants.”

“Let me do it.”

“You don’t trust me to make tea? I cook for myself too,” he said light-heartedly.

“It’s not that.”

“Sit down Paridhi. You are a guest today. I won’t be a minute.”

“Let me at least come to the kitchen with you.”

“All right. And there was something I have been thinking about and wanted to tell you.”

“Yeah?”

“Have you considered going into research. A Ph. D?”

“Umm… No. Why do you ask?”

“I think you have an aptitude for research. And you would do really well there.”

“Why are we discussing my career here?”

“Because,” he put the water to boil on the stove and turned to face her, “You can apply to the universities in US. You still have time for this year’s application deadlines at most places. If you get a scholarship for Ph. D. you can go there on student VISA and after that there shouldn’t be any problem in your career there.”

“Hmm,” she appeared thoughtful as she tried to digest this information, “Is that really feasible?”

“Definitely feasible. We, of course, have to pray that you get the scholarship or at least acceptance from one of the good universities. But I think you stand a good chance.”

“In which field?”

“I would recommend Economics. Although, if you don’t like that we can consider other options too.”

“No. No. Economics is fine,” her eyes shone, “This isn’t a dream, is it?”

“Wait until your dreams come true,” he smiled fondly.

“Thank you! Thank you so much.”

“Don’t get over-excited right away. Let the plan succeed.”

“If I fail, I fail. Nothing can be done about it. But for now, I at least there is something to try. How do I apply?”

“You don’t have any classes to attend?”

“The trimester is about to end. I have 85% attendance in all of them. And you have already missed the only class you had to take today.”

“You know my schedule. Great. Let me also toast some bread then. We will discuss over breakfast.”

—

“This Statement of Purpose reads like poetry!” Paridhi remarked unsurely. She was in Subrato’s office and they were working on the last-minute improvements in her application package before submitting it to various universities.

“It reads just fine. Here… I corrected some proofreading mistakes. I think we are ready to submit. Payment can be done online.”

“But I don’t have a credit card.”

“I am using mine.”

“Okay. How much is it?”

“Varies from university to university…”

“How much for this university,” she peered at his laptop as he prepared to submit the first application, “Oh my God! 400 dollars. Is that the average?”

“I think so.”

“No wait. That’s like… You had shortlisted 12 universities for me. 4800 dollars… 25 thousand? 30 thousand? I can’t do it. I don’t have so much saving and Mummy will never agree to…”

“Relax. I am paying.”

“No. No,” she panicked and grabbed his hand to stop him from submitting the application. She lost balance in his reflex attempt to free himself and he had to hold her to stop her from hitting the table. They suddenly found themselves in uncomfortable physical proximity. Paridhi gulped in embarrassment as she regained her balance with his help. Subrato withdrew his hand as soon as she was stable. He also looked embarrassed, but he recovered faster than her.

“It’s not a big deal, Paridhi. Let me pay.”

“It’s way too much money.”

“Make sure you don’t leave behind any of the gold jewelry your mother-in-law is so keenly planning to getting from your family. They will be rightfully yours. And once you have them you will have more than enough money to repay me.”

“I am supposed to do things believing that my dowry will come to me. You have no idea how absurd and impractical that thought is. Let’s drop this idea. Or at least cut down on the number of universities…”

“Paridhi. Do me a favour. Let me pay. Please. Our lives, hopefully, are not ending tomorrow. Once you get the admission and scholarship, you can slowly pay me back from that. Trust me.”

“But…”

“Please…”

She was disarmed. She looked on emotionally, as he submitted applications and made payments repeatedly.

“The last date for submission of recommendations is around 15th January at most places. One will be mine, of course. Make sure you remind the PGP chairman to write his before the deadline. Recommendations play a very important role.”

She nodded wordlessly.

“Cool then. This is done. Now concentrate on your exams and report submissions for all projects. You must not lose your grades, if you have go into research”

She nodded again.

“And don’t forget to submit the report of independent study before deadline. I didn’t give grade-drop to anyone in Econometrics because of you. But I won’t be so lenient this time,” he mock-threatened her to lighten the mood.

She looked at him in surprise. He did it for her! Why?

“You have taken the vow of not talking or what?” he joked and got up from his chair to stretch a bit.

An overwhelmed Paridhi could not stop herself. She went forward and hugged him tight. He was surprised, almost shocked. He patted her head, but did not hug her back. He looked confused. And almost scared of touching her.

She looked embarrassed after breaking the hug. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

“Don’t worry. Our emotions do get too much for us to handle at times,” he feared that his own voice will tremble, but he managed to maintain an outward calm, “Are you all right?”

“Yes. Irrespective of what comes out of it all, I will forever be indebted to you… For caring…” she said. Subrato could not reply to that; just looked at her with a mixture of curiosity, fondness and…

“I should leave now,” she spoke again, “Too may deadlines approaching for the trimester. I will send you the report by mail.”

“Sure.”

She took one final look at him and then left.

—

To be continued

Coming Around (Part 7.1)

Posted Mish4 CommentsPosted in English, Original, Subrato-Paridhi

“Enough of my sob story,” she said after they had driven out of the campus towards the city, “What do you plan to do?”

“Meaning?”

“Doesn’t your family pressurize you to get married?”

“They have given up on me. In the four months I was in India before joining the institute, they had gone crazy. Somehow I managed to evade though.”

“Don’t you want to get married.”

He sighed, “I wished I knew.”

“And my experience can’t be helpful,” she laughed sadly.

“You already have too much burden on your shoulders. Don’t start holding yourself responsible for my actions.”

She sighed, “But you know… it’s much better for men.”
“Really?”

“Yes. If the boy wants to meet his potential wife a few times before deciding, he is independent and forward-looking. If the girl wants to do it, she is too modern, distrustful of family, shameless and even characterless. If the boy says ‘no’, the girl is not good enough for him. If the girl says ‘no’, she in increasing the trouble of her family. And in all likelihood, her ‘no’ won’t matter at all. And it’s the boys who get all the free dowry money. Worth making a bit of compromise for!” her tone became bitter.

“Thankfully the dowry system is not prevalent in my community. But…”

“You know what! If you can’t decide for yourself in next couple of years, you should go for arranged marriage. You will have the choice anyway. And the girl you choose will be lucky enough to at least have a sensitive husband.”

“I am flattered,” Subrato sounded amused at that.

“And I am being ridiculous, of course. I am too self-absorbed in my problems. Forget it. Tell me something about the artists we are going to hear today.”

“Ah! Okay. Some of them are fairly young. But others…” She listened with fascination as he talked about various artists and what their strengths and weaknesses were.

–

To be continued

Coming Around (Part 7)

Posted Mish8 CommentsPosted in English, Original, Subrato-Paridhi

Paridhi was walking towards the canteen with Catherine when Subrato called her. She excused herself and walked towards him. “What happened?”

“You remember we were trying to get this book on the history of Nawabs. Found a copy with the help of my cousin.”

“Wow! From where?”

“Apparently from the personal collection of an old man, who happens to be the grandfather of one of her clients. She has warned us against the eccentricity of the old man, but he has invited us to look at other books in his collection, if we want.”

“Really?”

“Yep. Any time we want.”

“I have this project submission for Retail Marketing to be done tonight…”

“And you have left it for the last moment?” he raised his eyebrows in amused disbelief.

“Umm… There was too much to be done…”

“We can go on Saturday.”

“That should be doable. Cathy is waiting. I will see you later. Bye.”

“Hey. What about your…” he seemed to be at loss for words. Then added in want of choice, “fiance? You spoke to him?”

“Shut up,” she hissed in panic, “Nobody knows about it here.”

“I… I am sorry.”

“Bye.”

Cathy and Paridhi didn’t realize that Subrato was not far enough to not hear them. He heard Cathy clearly.

“Pari Ma’am. You really need to spend some time with other subjects too. Only independent study won’t do.”

“Rest of them are group projects. Why are they so dependent on me?” Paridhi appeared least bothered.

“You know that very well. All your group members are spoiled by you. Until you do something, nothing will happen.”

“I don’t care about losing a grade or two.”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing!”

—

“Are you ignoring your studies, Paridhi?” Subrato asked her when she came to his office the next day. Without them realizing, their twice-a-week meeting was already happening every alternate day, sometimes even on consecutive days.

“What makes you think so?”

“It’s in the air, let’s say.”

“You must be breathing some polluted air. It is distorting your perception,” she liked their witty exchanges!

“All right,” Subrato sighed, “I overheard your conversation with your best friend yesterday and you did not seem to deny her allegation.”

Paridhi looked surprised and uncomfortable for a moment, but quickly recovered her wits, “Bad manners!”

“Stop evading my question.”

“How does it matter even if I fail? And I won’t fail, just lose a few grades. But who cares? There is no purpose to studies any more.”

“Really? In that case why do this?”

“Before me and my life is butchered for good, I want to do what I like with my time.”

“Paridhi…”

“You don’t have to worry about what I am doing. You are not responsible for my life.”

“I know. But that’s not the point. You have so much potential, Paridhi. You can’t just waste it all. There has to be a way. Just because you get married, it doesn’t mean you can’t have a career. Have you talked to the guy?”

“The obedient son is apparently very shy and an introvert. He hasn’t gathered courage to talk or write to me yet. His mother calls up all the time, however. Telling me how he needs someone to take care of him in a foreign land. That’s what I am going to do in future. How is a retail marketing or a strategic technology management going to help with that?”

“You can work there?”

“Yes. Why not? The US government is waiting to give a work VISA to me. I have seen girls who were in jobs here going there on dependent VISA and finishing their careers for good.”

“What do your parents have to say?”

“My father can’t talk. He is dead. And my mother starts crying if I say anything because as far as she is concerned I am increasing her troubles!”

“This is absurd. There has to be a way out.”

“Yes there is. That I rebel and run away and leave my mother to be taunted to death by my grand mother. She already blames her for my father’s death and my brother running away.”

“Paridhi!”

She broke down, sank into a chair and started sobbing.

Subrato looked at her helplessly for a moment, then walked around the table to go near her and kept her hand on her shoulder. “Stop crying. Please Paridhi. Please. I am sorry. I acted like a jerk.”

She looked up at him and wiped her tears with the back of her hand, although they continued flowing from her eyes, “Nothing for you to be sorry about. Just… Don’t grudge me these last few months of me-time. I am not looking forward to anything more.”

“I won’t open my mouth about it again, I promise. Just don’t cry. Okay?”

She nodded. He gave her a bottle of water and she readily accepted that.

“How do we cheer you up today?” he asked energetically.

“I’m fine.”

“You like classical music, don’t you?”

“How do you know?”

“Remember when you had given me a USB drive full of classical compositions instead of your translated notes.”

She smiled weakly, “I enjoy it. But I don’t understand it.”

“Doesn’t matter. There is a SPICMACAY programme this evening. At JNIT college. Free entry. Shall we go?”

“Did you plan to go?”

“I wanted to go. But I can’t go to such gatherings alone. So, only if you agree. And I don’t think your would-be mother-in-law would frequent those quarters.”

“No. She won’t!” Paridhi replied wryly, “She would be too busy figuring out how much gold does she want in the wedding.”

“I know I just said I won’t open my mouth about it. But still. Dowry? For someone like you?”

“Mummy is happy to give so that she gets rid of the burden of a daughter. She, of course, calls it her duty. And they are greedy enough to take all that is coming their way and ask for more. If I say something, I am naive and don’t understand the world and ultimately I am only increasing Mummy’s troubles. She is right! I don’t understand why the world should be this way.”

“Let’s go. You need to wash your face first.”

“I can use the restroom downstairs.”

“I will wait for you in my car.”

—

To be Continued

Coming Around (Part 6)

Posted Mish6 CommentsPosted in English, Original, Subrato-Paridhi

The restaurant was unusually crowded. Paridhi and Subrato had to wait outside for a table to get free.

“Paridhi. What are you doing here?” A woman in her early 50s recognized her.

Paridhi was startled, but managed to reply, “Hello Auntie. Actually we had a class dinner. This is our professor – Dr. Sen. Both of us reached early. We are waiting for others to come.”

“Ah! Okay. You people have luxurious ways of studying. Professors taking you to dinner and all,” it was difficult to figure out if she was impressed or being skeptical, “In our days, we used to be scared of our professors.”

“Educators have realized over time,” Subrato chipped in, “That being friends with students is a better way of getting them to learn than scaring them.”

“Sure. Of course,” the woman found it difficult to counter that and took their leave.

“You are a smooth liar,” Subrato grinned after the woman had left.

She was not amused, “It was a bad idea. We shouldn’t have come.”

“Hey. What happened? Who was she, anyway?”

“A prospective mother-in-law. She lives in Lucknow. I don’t know what will she tell Mummy now…”

“Relax. Your story was good. And if needed I will stand your witness. Come on now. We had come here to cheer you up. Don’t get depressed again.”

“Yes. Of course. Sorry. I think our table is ready…”

“Paridhi. I…” he started saying when they were seated.

“Why do you pronounce my name like that? It’s Pa-ri-dhi and not Po-ri-di!” she was extremely irritated.

“What is my name?” he asked calmly.

“Excuse me?”

“How do you pronounce my name?”

“I… I don’t know. I never call you by your name.”

“Try it.”

“Subrat… I mean Subrato Sen,” she replied awkwardly.

He laughed out loud at her discomfort in getting the Bengali pronunciation of his name right. “I think it does not matter how you call someone. What matters is whom you are calling.”

“I am sorry. And I have lost count of how many times I have said sorry to you…”

“It’s all right. You are worried and…”

“No. It’s not. It is unfair that you bear the brunt of my frustrations…”

“Well. Today I am the reason of your frustration. It was my idea to bring you here.”

“It was up to me to accept or reject it. How could you possibly have known…”

“Stop being so hard on yourself.”

Paridhi sighed and changed the subject, “Shall we order?”

“Yeah.”

“You remember when I had given a surprise test in the class?” Subrato asked during dinner.

“Yes. Very well. You never gave another surprise test. You didn’t care about attendance either. Wonder what had come upon you?”

“I was very upset that day. I didn’t think I could teach. That was a last moment solution to avoid having to work.”

“What made you so upset?”

“It was something that had happened a year ago actually,” Subrato said and then narrated the story of Stacey.

“I… I’m sorry about that,” Paidhi looked genuinely affected.

“I am trying to get over it. I guess I am already quite successful.”

“But doesn’t talking about it bring back the bad memories?”

“You mean to ask why I shared it with you?”

“Well… yeah…”

“Two reasons. One is that willingly or unwillingly, you shared some of your most personal problems with me. I liked that you did so. And I did not want you to be uncomfortable about it. Now, we both have each other’s secrets. So, we can feel secure about our own being kept safe.”

Paridhi chuckled at that and asked, “And second?”

“Second is that I needed to share it with someone who won’t react by extolling the virtues of Indian arranged marriages.”

Paridhi laughed out loud at that, “That was very clever of you indeed. Choosing someone who is a victim of arranged marriage system to share it with. You get all the sympathies. All the options look very bleak for both of us then.”

“They do, don’t they? And thank God. You laughed. Even if it was at the bleakness of options.”

“You make it sound like I am always crying or something. I have nothing against laughing.”

“No. You don’t. That’s what makes it heartbreaking when you are sad or distressed.”

She sighed and shrugged, “I wish God thought about it the way you do. He seems to revel in creating troubles for me… For all of us…”

“God is a tricky topic to discuss. We should stay focused on the topic of marriages.”

“Or food. How did you like the kebabs?”

“They are delicious. Good choice of restaurant.”

“Thanks. But you must really try the road-side ones. I don’t know if it’s the pollution, the dust or the unhygienic water, but they taste much better.”

“Wow! With that description, you just pushed the possibility of me eating them a few years further in future.”

“Your loss!”

“Indeed!”

—

“Really? Your marriage is fixed? With that woman’s son?”

“Looks like.”

“So, I didn’t do much harm, after all. She didn’t have any complaints against you roaming around with another man?” Subrato grinned.

“Looks like, she didn’t.”

Subrato looked at her for a second and then asked with concern, “You don’t look happy. You don’t like the guy?”

“How would I know? I haven’t met him.”

“Excuse me? How can the marriage be fixed like that?”

“How do I explain something to you, which I myself don’t understand?” she looked dejected and was on the verge of tears.

“I’m sorry, Paridhi. I am, obviously, not helping. I wish I could… But you definitely would know better than me on how to handle the situation. Obviously asking you to rebel against your family is not a solution.”

“No. It isn’t. Thanks for understanding that.”

“Can I help in any way?”

She shrugged with a sad smile. How could he possibly help?

“But I can listen. And I will try to listen without falling for the temptation of giving advice that is not useful to you.”

“You know what. There is one man in the world who I can marry this blindly.”

“Who?” Subrato asked with a raised eyebrow wondering what she was talking about.

“The man for whom your American girlfriend left you. He is supposedly better than even you, right?” she laughed at her own joke.

“Now arranging that would be some revenge I could take on her, and help you at the same time. But I think we will have to do with something more practical.”

“Like discussing the project.”

“Sure. Just one question. Why haven’t you met the guy? Where is he?”

“In US. New York. He can’t keep coming to India all the time. So, he will come straight for the wedding.”

“And he doesn’t care about getting married to girl he doesn’t know at all?”

“Big, fat dowry – I guess that reduces the perceived risk a lot. And then he is supposedly this obedient, sanskari son, who trusts his parents blindly. Unlike me.”

“Your parents have met him?”

“No. But they trust the person who brought the proposal to them blindly. So, I am supposed to extend that blind trust as well.”

“Hmm…”

“Project?”

“Yeah. Sure! Let me see what have you done till now.”

—

To be continued

Coming Around (Part 5)

Posted Mish9 CommentsPosted in English, Original, Subrato-Paridhi

“No grade drop in Econometrics. Did you hear that, Pari?” Catherine was excited.

“Really? That’s great!”

“Of course. Especially for you. Now Sudhanshu does not stand a chance.”

“I am not competing with anybody, Cathy.”

“No? Why are you doing the independent study with him then?”

“What does that have to do with Sudhanshu?”

“Not Sudhanshu. But no grade drop in Econometrics? Why would Subrato Sen do that?”

“How do I know? Oh God! You are crazy Cathy. No, I haven’t talk to him about the grade drop at all. The study was Dr. Gupta’s idea. You really are crazy.”

“That cute face, and soft voice can make anyone go crazy.”

“If independent study helps with that, you can do that too.”

“I won’t spoil my chances. He has high standards. Independent study will reveal my limitations too quickly,” Cathy grinned, “You enjoy it.”

“Shut up!”

—

Paridhi had taken up independent study in the next trimester as suggested by Dr. Gupta and Subrato and was in Subrato’s office to discuss the first steps of her project. Suddenly her mobile rang. She looked at the name on the screen and disconnected the call to return to the conversation. But the phone kept ringing again and again.

“Why don’t you take the call and we can discuss after that?” he noticed that the call was from her mother and suggested helpfully.

“No,” she switched off the phone and said decisively, “Let’s continue. You were saying we could find records in the state library. But we would need someone who known Arabic and Persian, right?”

“Why is you relationship with your mother so strained?”

“Excuse me?” Paridhi was shocked.

“Her calls always seem to trouble you.”

“I have no idea where that came from,” she replied with practiced toughness, “I am just trying to focus on work right now. Can we?”

“Right. Let’s continue,” he replied dryly and did not apologize with his presumption. He knew he was right.

But after their discussion ended, he decided to clear the air, “Listen. Paridhi. I didn’t mean to be intrusive earlier. It’s just…”

“And I didn’t mean to be rude. We all have to live with shortcomings. Sometimes our own, sometimes of the people around us. I don’t want to go around complaining.”

“I will keep that in mind for future.”

“Thanks.”

—

He kept up his promise and did not ask her about it again. He wasn’t taking any courses for her this trimester. So, they only met twice a week to discuss the progress on the project and the next steps to be taken.

She looked particularly distracted that day.

“Network was down in the hostel. I could not mail you some of the translated notes I had taken. Here they are in this USB drive.”

Subrato plugged the USB drive in, “It has a bunch of classical compositions. I doubt it has anything to do with economic policies of Nawabs of Oudh!”

“What… Oh… I brought the wrong… Let me check… I think I forgot… Do you have some time… I will go back and bring the right one…”

“Relax. Is it in your mailbox? You can access from here and download them.”

“It should be. I had sent it to the Maulana Wani for final confirmation.”

“Log in, then,” he turned his laptop over to her. Despite three attempts she could not log in.

“What happened?” he asked when he saw her looking frustrated.

“I can’t seem to remember my password.”

“You have it saved on your computer?”

“No. It’s… It makes no sense… I’m sorry. I am wasting your time. Can I come some other time?”

“Paridhi,” he said very softly, but surely, “You can come any time you want. And you can also share what is bugging you.”

She let out a loud sigh and looked at him with blank expressions.

“If you want,” he added hesitatingly wondering if he again crossed the line with her.

“We don’t always want the right things, do we?”

“I can’t imagine you wanting anything so sinister that you are so restless about it. But if it just about wanting to share your problems with friends – no. I don’t think there can be anything wrong with it.”

“I want to keep my mother happy. But…”

“But?”

“My mother and my grand-mother – they never wanted me to leave home. Staying in a hostel – away from the family. It was all just too modern for them. So, I had done my engineering also from a college in Allahabad only. But I fought with them to come here. Studying here – doing an MBA was my childhood dream. I didn’t know what would I do after this. But I just had to… And they had extracted a thousand promises from me that I won’t do anything that would bring shame on the family. And I haven’t… It’s making no sense to you, is it?” she suddenly asked.

“I am not an American. Why would it make no sense to me? Go ahead. Please!”

“Cathy could never understand. Nobody could. Cathy thinks I would be financially independent after MBA. Why should I care what they want? But how can I not care? She is my mother. She has brought me up.”

Subrato held back his thoughts on the issue and prodded her further, “What is the problem?”

“Everyday is a problem. They want me to get married at the earliest. Whatever time I had left with me after my summer internship, I have spent either getting lectures about how to behave myself to catch a good prospect or in meeting prospective in-laws and husbands. I begged them to wait for me to finish my MBA at least. But they are not willing to listen. They keep sending people to meet me here. And then pass on the feedback about everything from how my room was not clean, to how I was not dressed conservatively enough, how I came across as too modern etc. etc. Sometimes I manage to make my mother understand. But my grandmother starts blaming her for letting her daughter slip away and she loses it and takes out all her frustration on me. So, whenever she calls me I am told that I have slipped away from her hands, I don’t care about her or the family, what did she do wrong in bringing me up, why can’t I learn to be a bit more docile, why am I following the footsteps of my brother…” she suddenly stopped when she mentioned her brother.

“Your brother?”

“No. No brother. I don’t have a brother.”

“Paridhi?”

“He ran away. A few years ago. With a girl from lower cast. Untouchable actually. So now, finding a match for me is difficult if the prospects know about this black mark on the family. So, until I get married, I am the only child. I have no brother. And… nobody here knows either. In case people ask around… So…”

“Don’t worry. Your secrets are safe with me. But…”

“But?”

“Nothing.”

“Now, don’t leave me in a limbo. I have spoken too much anyway. At least I should know what you think about it.”

“Let it be. I don’t want to add to your worries.”

“Please. Speak up.”

“You are too young for marriage to be your first priority. What will happen to your career? Is that a concern in this entire process at all?”

“No. It’s not a concern at all. And… I don’t know what to do.”

“I’m sure some solution will turn up. But as a first step try to improve you mood,” Subrato smiled, “Do something to cheer yourself up.”

“Yeah. I guess so,” Paridhi forced a smile on herself, “I should leave now. I will send you the notes by e-mail and…”

“I have a better idea.”

“Yes?”

“Why don’t you take me to a place in the city where I can get good kebabs and hopefully rest of the dinner too?”

“Dinner?”

“Yes. If you don’t mind.”

“Okay… Yeah… Sure…” Paridhi still looked unsure, but agreed.

“Let’s go then. My car got delivered yesterday. So, we don’t have to depend on the autos and taxis this time. Do you want to change before leaving?”

“No. I am good.”

“So, where do we get great kebabs? Preferably not on the roadside.”

Paridhi smiled, “There is a restaurant in Hazratganj. It comes close, but at a much higher price.”

“Don’t worry. Dinner is on me. Let’s go.”

—

To be continued

Coming Around (Part 4)

Posted Mish18 CommentsPosted in English, Original, Subrato-Paridhi

Subrato was agitated. It had been exactly one year since Stacey had walked out on him.

“You are just not stable enough, Subrato,” she had told him.

He was shocked. He had been preparing to propose to her. He had the entire wedding planned out in his head.

“What are you talking about? What is not stable about me?”

“You keep running off to weird places.”

“I like exploring things, Stacey. You are an artist. You can understand that.”

“Yeah. I am an artist and I need more stable man in my life to make up for that.”

“Stacey. It’s not like I don’t hold jobs or something. I just take up experimental projects. I can easily provide for you and the family we will raise together. And if needed…” Her audible sigh had made him realize that he was getting into a futile discussion. He asked her, “That isn’t the point, is it?”

She had nodded not meeting his eyes.

“Who is he?” he had tried hard to conceal his fury.

“Let it be, Subrato. It doesn’t matter. It wasn’t working out between us. I just… I had been meaning to tell you for so long.”

“What went wrong?” he had asked realizing even himself how hopeless those questions were.

“It wasn’t meant to be. Good bye, Subrato.”

He had stood rooted to his place as she left. Then he had gone to his bedroom, picked up the ring he had bought and flushed it down the toilet. He had done a real experimental thing with his career and life after that. He had decided to move back to India, at least for a while. But it had taken several months to work that out. As soon as his posting at IIAM had been confirmed, he had left US taking a sabbatical from his job there. His joining was still four months away, but he just had to get away from that place.

Subrato jumped out of his office chair. He needed fresh air. His class was about to start. But he had anticipated his inability to work that day. He called the TA (teaching assistant) of the course and handed him the question papers for a surprise test in the class. It was to be an half-an-hour test. The students were to be let go after that.

He walked out of the office towards the ground where he usually went for his jogging. His reverie was broken by the sound of her voice. She was sitting on the lone bench on that ground, her mobile pressed on her right ear, while her head was partially buried in her hand.

“Mummy. How many times have I told you to call me at the night, if you have to talk this nonsense. I have classes to attend for God’s sake. How am I supposed to concentrate?…. Mummy. Please. Let me complete this year, get a job… Of course, you don’t care. You want me to live the life you have lived… Just… I have to go the class…”

Subrato got out of her line of sight as she got up, but he could figure out that she was upset and crying. And she would get a test in the class!! On an impulse, he took a clandestine route he had discovered from the ground to the academic area to reach the class before her. He had hoped to stop the TA from distributing the test papers. But by the time he reached there, the papers had already been distributed. She reached the class shortly after him. She was late by ten minutes for the test. She sighed and shook her head when she realized that a surprise test was waiting for her. She had washed her face, but Subrato did not miss the swelling around her eyes. He felt bad for her. But she just picked up a test paper and went to her seat to start working on it. Subrato let the TA go telling him that he would supervise the test himself. He decided to let the test go on for forty minutes, so that she got enough time for completing it. But he was surprised when she got up from her seat to submit her answer sheet even before the originally planned time for the test was over.

“Can I leave now?” she asked him not sure if he intended to continue the class after the test.

“Yes,” he nodded. She probably wasn’t in the right mental state to take the test, he thought.

But he was in for a surprise when she left the classroom and he casually turned the pages of her answer-sheet. She had answered all the questions. And in his quick assessment, she had answered them correctly. It was all in a horrible handwriting. She must have been eager to get over with it. But it was correct nevertheless. He turned back to the first page of the answer sheet and ran his hand over her name. Paridhi Chauhan. He finally knew her name. A small, mostly indiscernible, smile formed on his lips!

—

Paridhi knocked on Subrato’s office door and opened it when she heard “Yes?” from inside. Another senior faculty member was in the office with him.

“I… just wanted to submit the assignment. TA was not in his office,” she explained her presence hesitantly.

“Come in,” he invited her in, “You might be interested in what Dr. Gupta and I are discussing here. Dr. Gupta – she is the one who came up with the idea that Imambada’s story is very Keynesian.”

“That’s great,” Dr. Gupta replied, “If you are interested Paridhi, you could check out the research we are planning and join it for your independent study project in the next trimester.”

“Sure. I will check it out, Sir,” she told him courteously.

“I will take your leave now,” Dr. Gupta turned to Subrato and left after parting pleasantries.

“What was it about?” she asked Subrato.

“You remember the Imambada story and its resemblance to Keynesian theories, right?”

“Yes?”

“So, I have been thinking about it. While I am in Lucknow, I would like to take up a research project where I get an advantage by being in this city and zeroed on the idea of studying economic policies of Nawabs of Oudh. We might get more interesting insights like the Imambada one.”

“That would be some real Indian Economics research. Very good idea.”

“So yeah – like Dr. Gupta suggested, if you are taking up independent study in the next trimester and are interested in the idea, let me know.”

“I will think about it.”

“And you did very well on the surprise test. Congratulations.”

“You have graded the papers?”

“Mostly. Unless someone else throws a surprise at me, you have scored the highest. What do you guys call it. A batch-max?”

“It’s just a test.”

Subrato smiled and shook his head at her attempt of dismissing her performance, despite having achieved it under distress. And it wasn’t just a test. She was the batch topper based on cumulative performance as of now. If her Economics aptitude was anything to go by, Subrato had no doubts that she will graduate at the top of her class.

“I had to submit the assignment…”

“The deadline is until the midnight. You are already done with it?”

“I have to go out of the campus for some work. So…”

“Lonely trip to Chowk and Imambada?”

She laughed, although it looked like a sad laugh to Subrato, “No. Thankfully or unfortunately not lonely.”

“Paridhi. Is everything all right?” he suddenly asked. His question came out of nowhere as far as she was concerned. She hesitated for a moment. Something else was odd apart from his question. The way he called her name. There was a slight accent, a combination of Bengali and American accent, which was difficult to miss. How come she had not noticed it earlier? Was it the first time he was calling her by her name?

“Yes… Why do you ask?” she brought herself out of her confused thoughts and replied hesitantly.

“Nothing… Just… Sometimes you look distressed,” he became conscious of his sudden intrusion and withdrew with a vague explanation of his question.

“We all do. We all are distressed some times.”

“Right. All the best with whatever is taking you to the city today.”

“Thanks. I need it. Good night.”

“Good night,” he replied though could not help wondering about why she said ‘I need it’.

—

To be Continued

Coming Around (Part 3)

Posted Mish12 CommentsPosted in English, Original, Subrato-Paridhi

“Hello there!” Paridhi was startled by Subrato’s voice at Imambada.

“What are you doing here?” she asked abruptly.

“Now this… is definitely not a private property.”

“Actually it is,” Paridhi smiled, “Not mine though. Waqf board’s! I am sorry. You startled me.”

“Just saw a familiar face around… By the way. This is my cousin – Sonali. She is a Lucknow veteran and thinks I can’t survive in the city on my own. And Sonali – she is the one who gave me a ride to the institute on my arrival in the city. So, you can thank her for ridding you of your guilt…”

“Stop exaggerating my concern Subrato. I didn’t get your name… Oh. I have to take this call. Excuse me,” she walked away as her mobile rang.

“So, you came here alone?” Subrato asked Paridhi.

“Yeah.”

“Wow! I would find it very awkward to do stuff alone.”

“I come here alone very often.”

“Why?”

“Just like that. How many people would be interested in coming to Imambada with me? That too again and again.”

“What about your best friend?”

“My best friend?”

“Catherine, I think!”

“How do you know she is my best friend.”

“Well – the two of you are spotted together quite often in the campus.”

Paridhi laughed, “Yes. But outside the campus, she could be spotted more often with her boyfriend. That’s who she is with right now. So, I am left to my own devices and I am not complaining. Anyway, I was planning to leave now…”

“Sonali will drop me. We could give you a ride…”

“Oh no! Not needed. You should continue with your plan…”

“There is no plan… Here she is… Sonali…”

“Subrato,” Sonali looked hurried when she came back, “Emergency at work. Some client is going berserk. I need to go immediately. How do I drop you…”

“Oh. Don’t worry. I know enough about the city to find my way back.”

“But…”

“Don’t worry. You also have to go back, right?” Subrato turned to Paridhi.

“Yes. But I will be taking an auto…”

“Can we share it?”

“Sure. You don’t have to worry Ma’am.”

“Thank you so much. Subrato. I will catch up with you later. I am so sorry…”

“Don’t bother. Handle your work. See you later. Bye.”

—

“So, you don’t have a boyfriend?” Subrato asked Paridhi casually on their auto-ride back to the campus.

“Huh?”

“Sorry. That sounded intrusive. I was just continuing our earlier conversation.”

“How is that related to our earlier conversation?”

“You mentioned that your friend was with her boyfriend and you are left to your own devices. So, obviously the next question that came to my mind was this.”

“Hmm… Okay. Since you explain the origin of your question so logically, let me answer it. No. I don’t have a boyfriend. And I am unlikely to ever have one.”

Subrato laughed, “The second part of the answer is dishonest. I’m already surprised that you don’t have one and you are talking so strongly about not having one in future too.”

“Why are you surprised? You think girls with verbal diarrhea must have a boyfriend?”

That made him laugh again, “Verbal diarrhea?? You are saying that about yourself? You are very aware of your own self.”

“Whatever.”

“Anyway. To answer your question, if my college days experience are anything to go by, you are too intelligent and attractive to be left alone by boys.”

“Thanks for the compliment. But no. I can’t have a boyfriend.”

“Can’t? Why not?”

“Can’t afford those complications. My family is too conservative for that.”

“I see,” her honest confession about her situation suddenly made it awkward for Subrato.

“Anyway. Why are we talking about these things? What does your cousin do?” she changed the topic.

“She is a designer. For clothes and accessories. Specializes in bridal attire. Her customers keep going berserk all the time.”

“I can imagine! I have seen my cousins during the days leading to their wedding. They go crazy about every little thing. I don’t understand the madness.”

“Well. People want their special day to be perfect.”

“How does it matter? Especially if the rest of the life is going to be a compromise, something much less than perfect.”

“You sound very pessimistic about marriages?”

“I don’t know what’s wrong. Why are we going in the direction of discussing relationships and marriages again and again?”

“Your bad luck, I guess,” Subrato grinned, “Would you prefer discussing Econometrics?”

“I think so.”

“How are you finding the classes?”

“Good.”

“I was looking for some honest, critical feedback.”

“In that case, well… it’s too basic sometimes. But that’s the fate of most of the classes in any course. You have to take the entire class together. That’s your job.”

“Wow! You have a gift for this. You suddenly made my job sound very depressing.”

“I am sorry. That’s not what I meant,” Paridhi replied sounding sad.

“I was just joking!”

“It wasn’t a joke. I do tend to see too much bleakness in the world.”

“And the verbal diarrhea is a way to not let that show?”

“Are you an Economist or a Psychologist?”

“You don’t need to be either to have some common sense.”

“Well… ” her phone rang and she picked it up, “What… No Mummy… Not now… Let me at least reach the hostel room… I am with friends… No… Just stop… Okay? Stop it. I will call back! Bye.” It looked like she had disconnected the call against the wishes of her mother. She did not look at Subrato after the call and kept staring outside the auto. Subrato looked at her curiously, but decided not to interfere further.

“Do you know the story of Imambada?” she spoke suddenly with a perky voice that was characteristic of her usual verbal-diarrhea-self.

He knew the story. The tour guide at Imambada had narrated it to him just a while back when he was there with Sonali. But he still said no. She needed to talk to deal with whatever was bothering her. He decided to indulge her.

She explained the story to him in detail, adding a few exaggerations on her own from what the guide had told him. He couldn’t help noticing the exaggerations, though he did not point them out to her. She went on about how Nawab Asaf-Ud-Daula commissioned the construction of the Imambada in a time of famine to provide employment to people. The common people built the Imambada during the day time. The noblemen and elites broke it down at night as they could not do anything else. The see-saw continued until the famine was over.

“It is rather Keynesian, don’t you think so? And much before Keynes,” she added at the end.

“It indeed is,” Subrato was impressed by her economics related observation. It had  precisely been his thought too, when he had heard the story. This intervention was very similar to the one done in the US to overcome the great depression. And the economist behind the theory that guided the intervention was the legendary John M. Keynes. Imambada had happened much before that!

“Have you been to the Residency?”

“Not yet.”

“You can see the holes made by canons during the seize of 1857.”

“I see…”

“Though their size is rather small. I was underwhelmed when I saw them for the first time. I had imagined some huge holes in the walls.”

Subrato chuckled at that, “What else should I know about Lucknow?”

“Kebabs to eat, taanga to ride, chikan to wear, super-formal nawaabi language to speak and mujra to watch. I can’t help you with the last one though. Don’t know where can you find that.”

Subrato laughed out loud at that, “You are funny. And amazing. I think I can do without mujra. Where do you get good Kebabs?”

“Roadside.”

“Ah!”

“That won’t work for you, would it? You probably order bottled water in the restaurants.”

Subrato sighed, “As a matter of fact, I do. Is that too bad?”

“Not for me. But for you. There are things you can’t enjoy.”

“Right.”

“Did that sound offensive? I didn’t mean to…”

“Nope. That didn’t sound offensive at all. Only practical.”

“Great. We have reached. You can do the rest of your research on Lucknow on Wikipedia now,” she smiled.

“Or you can take me along on one of your lonely trips to the city and guide me.”

“I enjoy my lonely trips.”

“Did I disturb you today, then?”

“No. It’s good to break the monotony once in a while.”

“Hmm…”

“My hostel is here. I will pay…”

“This ride is on me. Good night.”

“Good night.”

—

To be continued