Category: Language

Inevitable (Variation) – Part 5

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

Paritosh was frustrated beyond words. Maya had been in tears that morning.

“I love your daughter, Paritosh. As much as a mother can. But is it my fault that she wouldn’t even spare a glance for me? Will we never have any time for each other?”

“What do you want me to do, Maya? She is my daughter!”

“That overpaid nanny of hers can take care of her for a few days, can’t she? You can pay her some more.”

“Just leave her behind while I am on a vacation?”

“On a vacation with me! You do leave her behind for your job. A job you don’t even need. A job you do just because you love teaching. So tell me this, do you love me? Or not? Do I mean even as much as this job to you?”

“What kind of an emotional blackmail is this, Maya?”

She had been furious at that and had stomped out of his office. Paritosh could not concentrate on making notes for his next class after that and left for home. On seeing Rupali, an idea had formed in his head.

But Rupali had frustrated all his plans. She hadn’t even pretended to think about it.

He was angry. At first with her. Then with himself. Why had he expected Rupali to come through for him? When his wife hadn’t done so? When Maya couldn’t do so?

He took a deep breath and looked at the clock. It was almost the time for Rupali to leave. He stepped out of his bedroom and went to Meenal’s. He relieved Rupali and sat down to play with his daughter.

—

Rupali usually slept for three hours after coming back from Paritosh’ house.  Then she made dinner and left for her night job. But that evening Sugata’s band was giving a paid performance for the first time. It was a meager payment. But it was big for them. He wanted her to come for it. She wasn’t sure if she would have her job with Paritosh for long. She wasn’t sure if she would be able to provide him the support he would need in future. The least she could do was to attend his show tonight and make him happy, even if only temporarily.

So she skipped her nap and made dinner while her brothers were still at their tuitions. She called Mihir and he readily agreed to attend the performance. After that he dropped her at the pharmacy. The next morning, the boy who was to relieve her got late and that ate up her morning nap time, the couple of hours she usually slept before starting her morning chores and then leaving for Paritosh’ home.

She was lethargic beyond measure as she walked home in the morning. She had no energy left for cooking breakfast and lunch. She decided that she would ask Soumitra to get some bread and toast them for breakfast. For lunch she would hand them some money so that they could buy something from the school canteen. That was a luxury she did not usually permit them or herself. But this morning, she was exceptionally tired.

She stepped into the house to the sound of pressure cooker. Soumitra and Sugata were ready for school and some toasted bread was waiting for her.

“You were late,” Soumitra announced, “So I bought some bread and toasted it. You can eat.”

“And what is in the pressure cooker?”

“Khichdi, for lunch.”

‘When did they learn to cook?’ she wondered. Tears threatened her and she closed her eyes for a moment to blink them back. Then she went forward and pulled both of them in a hug.

“Hey, hey!” Soumitra grinned, “It’s only khichdi. And you may want to taste it for salt.”

—

Rupali’s head was reeling and her eyes wouldn’t stay open. She hadn’t had a wink of sleep in over twenty-four hours and she was bone tired. When Meenal was taking her late-morning nap, she could not resist the temptation of taking a nap herself. She put an alarm for the time when Meenal usually woke and lied down next to the child.

But it wasn’t the alarm or Meenal that woke her up.

“Ms. Banerjee,” Partiosh’ voice thundered and echoed through the small room. Rupali woke up at once and jumped out of the bed. Her heart thumped in her chest. Her throat went dry at the sight of Paritosh’ red, angry eyes. “What do you think you were doing?”

“I… I… Sir. Meenal was asleep. I fell…”

“Meenal was asleep and she could have woken up any time. What is your job here, Ms. Banerjee? What do you think your job is?”

She gulped hard and stayed silent.

“You have only one job. To look after her. Sleeping on the job doesn’t help you do that.”

“I’m sorry, Sir. It won’t happen again.”

“No. It won’t. Because you won’t come here again. Leave. Leave right now.”

“Sir, please–”

“Didn’t you hear me, Ms. Banerjee? You are fired!”

Tears stung her still weary eyes. But she blinked them back. All her prepared speeches for the moment he fired her were useless. He wasn’t firing her because she refused to come with them for the vacation. He was firing her because she was sleeping on the job. No excuse was going to work here. She picked up her purse, slipped on her sandle and ran out.

—

For a while she was angry. Angry at herself, at Paritosh, at the world, and at her rotten luck. Then every other feeling floated away except the overwhelming need to sleep. To sleep for hours together. Why not, she decided. She had the entire day to herself. She would sleep like she hadn’t done in a long time. Apart from the two jobs on the weekdays,  even her weekends were occupied with chores. And now there was Mihir too. She also had to find time for him. Her sleep had been ignored and compromised for too long. Now she would catch up on it.  She will have to look for a new job because once Paritosh told them why he had fired her, the clinic would not want her back. But it was all for good. She would not start her job-search yet. She would take several days off and sleep well.

Before she knew it she had fallen asleep on the bed in the hall. This wasn’t her bed. The twins used it. She usually slept in the only room the house had. But nothing mattered right now. She had to sleep.

—

To be continued

Inevitable (Variation) – Part 4

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

For years Rupali had been saving every rupee she could to be able to afford the best schools for Soumitra and Sugata after they finished class 10th. They were going to do so that year. Going to a good school in those two crucial years of +2 education was a gateway to a good college admission later. She didn’t want them missing out on that. Sugata, perhaps, wanted to make a career in sports or music. So, he may not care about a good college that much. But those were uncertain careers. So, he would need to be supported for longer. Rupali would support him for as long as he needed. Soumitra wanted to be an engineer. So, Rupali also wanted to be ready with the money it would take him to become one.

But for all her attempts at saving money, until she got this undeserved job and the windfall of an income that she had never felt confident of fulfilling those dreams. Now, she was saving every bit of extra income and the numbers had finally started looking good. And so, the thought of losing this job had started scaring her. The day Paritosh found a nanny who could take care of Meenal at a much lower salary, her days of comfortable earning would be over. Although he had already hired a proper, qualified counsellor who spent a few hours with Meenal every day and, despite the extra expense, did not seem to be looking out for Rupali’s replacement, Rupali could not stop feeling anxious. She practically held her breath for the half an hour she spent at the house in his presence every morning, before he left for the for the university. Should anything go wrong she would never be able to forgive herself on her brothers’ behalf. That destiny should offer her such a golden chance of securing their future and she should squander it away.

When he came back in the evenings, often accompanied by Maya, she took her leave at the earliest. Maya unnerved her even more than Paritosh did. She had never said anything to her. But perhaps the very fact that she hardly ever spoke to her, and responded to her greetings with a barely discernible nod, told Rupali that her employer’s ‘friend’ did not like her. Did she grudge Rupali her salary? Or was she unhappy that Meenal stayed with Rupali the entire day, but did not take to her at all? Either way, Maya he could hardly be faulted. But Rupali couldn’t leave the job just to make her happy. It was about money, of course. But it was also about the little girl who had come to depend on her.

Despite the nervousness Maya introduced, Rupali’s real concern continued to be Paritosh.

—

“Why are you in the kitchen?” Rupali jumped at the interruption and spilled most of the milk she was pouring in a glass for Meenal. It was only lukewarm and hence she wasn’t hurt, but Paritosh rushed in and put her hands under the tap.

“Are you fine?”

“Yes Sir,” she mumbled drawing her hands away, “It wasn’t hot. I’m sorry. I spilled it all.”

“It’s okay. I startled you. I didn’t mean to. Where is the aayah?”

There was a maid to do all the cooking and cleaning and Rupali’s only job was to stay with Meenal and make sure that she was fine.

“She is down with flu. She called to tell me that she won’t be able to come.”

“Oh! I’m sorry. You had to cook for Meenal, I suppose.”

“It’s nothing, Sir. She doesn’t have complicated needs,” she smiled, but Paritosh was still frowning. “You came back early today, Dr. Khanna?”

“Yes, yes,” he seemed to be startled out of his thoughts, “I didn’t have any more classes. So… Would you like to have a cup of tea?”

She assumed that he wanted a cup. “I will make some,” she offered.

“No. You take the milk for Meenal. I’ll make tea after changing. I will see you in the hall.”

She stared after him. Did he know how to make tea? The man who had three people in the employ just for a four-year-old girl? Who had enough money to pay a counsellor’s salary to a nanny?

But it wasn’t her place to question him. She heated some more milk for Meenal, fed the child and then went to the hall with her in the tow. He was already there, two cups of tea waiting on the coffee table.

“Thank you, Sir,” she said as she picked up a cup and sat on a chair across him. Meenal got busy with her toys.

They sipped the tea in silence for a long time. Then, all of a sudden, he asked, “Would you like to come for a vacation?”

“Excuse me, Sir?”

“I mean,” he shook his head, realizing that his question sounded inappropriate, “Maya and I wanted to go for a vacation. So Meenal will come with. If you could come along, it would help us a lot. I will make all the arrangements, of course. And–”

“Sir. That’s not possible for me. I can’t–”

“But why? It’s not like—Maya will be there. Meenal will be there. You will have a room with Meenal–”

“Sir. You are generous. But I can’t, really I can’t.”

“Very well,” he almost slammed the cup down and she noticed with a sinking heart that he was angry. He, then, got up and left without another word.

Rupali buried her head in her hands. So the dreaded moment had come. Someone who had taken up the job of a nanny would have come. But how could she? She had two younger brothers to take care of.  How could she leave them alone and go on a vacation. Then there was her night job. She wasn’t sure she could tell Paritosh about that. What if he concluded that she wasn’t fully invested in Meenal because she was working another job too?

But he could also fire her because she refused to go with them. Well, she decided, if he did decide to fire her, she would tell him about her constraints. There would be nothing to lose. In the worst case he would stick to his decision of firing her. In the best case he would reconsider.

“Come, Meenu,” she addressed the child, “Let’s go and do some drawing.”

—

To be continued

Inevitable (Variation) – Part 3

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

“Where are we going?” she asked as she perched up on his bike. It was a Saturday morning. She didn’t have to go to Partiosh’ house. So, she had accepted Mihir’s invitation to meet him after her night shift at the pharmacy. The dawn was still an hour away. He had a car at his disposal, but he was fond of riding his bike. Rupali also liked the sense of freedom and adventure it brought. She let the wind kiss her face and play with her hair as Mihir rode through some deserted, hilly terrain in a part of the city she was unfamiliar with. This is reckless, cautioned the responsible elder sister in her. She barely knew him for a month. And to have come with him alone to an unfamiliar, lonely place. If something happened to her, what would become of her brothers? Oh shut up, chided the twenty-four-year old girl, nothing bad will happen. Enjoy the moment.

The sun was just coming up the horizon when they got off the bike and walked to the edge of a cliff. They stared out at the red-orange eastern sky. The first rays of sunlight were playing hide and seek with trees.

“It’s beautiful, Mihir.”

He turned to her and cupped her face without breaking his silence. It is coming, she realized, partly in excitement and partly in dread. A kiss. Her first kiss. What would it feel like?

It was just… a lot of… wetness. Of his mouth and tongue. She tried to reciprocate his actions hoping that he was having a better time than she was. When they broke the kiss, he smiled. Her reciprocation must have worked. She also willed herself to smile. His arms slipped around her pulling her close. Was she ready for this, she wondered. Thankfully, she didn’t have to decide, because her phone rang conveniently just then.

“Sorry!” she mumbled as she wriggled out.  The name on the screen surprised her.

“Dr. Khanna?”

“Ms. Banerjee. I know you aren’t supposed to be working today. But, I am at my wit’s end.  Meenal is sick and is constantly asking for you. It has been four hours now. I was just waiting for the first light to call you. Can you… can you please come here?”

“Yes. I… I am coming. It will take me sometime though. Forty minutes–”

“As soon as you can manage, please!”

“Mihir! I am sorry. I must go.”

“Some emergency?”

“Yes.”

“In your family?” He had already started walking towards his parked bike.

“No. Not family. But I need to go.”

“Sure.”

She was thankful he didn’t pry any further. She didn’t want to explain her two jobs to him, or the circumstances that forced her into them.

—

“What happened?” Rupali barged into his bedroom.

“Thank God, you are here! Please sit beside her.”

Meenal was lying on the bed bundled up in sweaters and blankets.

“Meenu!” she touched the child’s forehead. “She is running a fever.”

“Can you please try to feed her the medicine? She won’t…”

“Mamma… Mamma…” the girl mumbled in her semi-comatose state.

“It’s me, Meenu. I am here,” Rupali pushed her hand beneath the blanket to hold hers.

Meenal opened her eyes laboriously. They were expressionless as always, but in the two weeks that she had worked with her, they had already started speaking volumes to her. Rupali coaxed her into drinking her medicine and she fell asleep soon.

“She is prone to getting these sudden bouts of fever,” Paritosh explained, “So, I always keep her medicine handy. She was thrashing about restlessly when I woke up. I have been trying since then, but she wouldn’t take the medicine.”

Rupali’s heart went out to him. “She would be fine now.”

“I don’t know how to thank you for coming today.”

“It’s my job, Dr. Khanna. You don’t need to–”

“It isn’t your job. But… Anyway. Please join me for breakfast. You wouldn’t have had time for–”

“Thank you, Sir. But I need to go home.”

“Yes. You would have plans. Just that… Never mind. We’ll see.”

She realized that he was worried about Meenal asking for her after she woke up. But she did need to go. Her brothers would look for her and she had promised to cook them their favorite breakfast.

“I wasn’t at home when you called. So it took me longer to come. From home, it won’t take more than fifteen minutes. I’d take an auto as soon as you call.”

He nodded, put on a stoic face and thanked her once again for coming.

—

Soumitra woke up when she entered her house. He rubbed his eyes and looked at the wall clock.

“You are coming only now?” he asked. She was usually back before dawn after her night shift.

“I had to go to Prof. Khanna’s place.”

“This early? And on a Saturday?”

Saugata had also woken by then and was looking at her questioningly.

“Meenal was ill and she was asking for me.”

“For God’s sake,” Saugata groaned, “You are not on call 24/7.”

“She is a just a little girl, Pintu. She was shivering with fever, and was not taking her medicine. How could I just ignore that?” She regretted telling them about going to Paritosh’ house. She could have told them that she was with Mihir. That would have made them happy. The orphan teenagers were responsible and mature beyond their years, she rued. They were aware of her sacrifices and wanted her to enjoy her life too. But there was only so much she could do. Without a college degree, the salary she could earn was meager. An old acquaintance had rented them this dilapidated house at a nominal rent by Mumbai’s standards. But living in this city and meeting the needs to two fourteen-year old growing boys, apart from her own, was not an easy task.

“Okay, guys! Don’t fight,” Soumitra intervened, “Didi. Let me help you with laundry.”

“But–”

“I can’t study twenty-four hours in a day, Didi, even if I have to write the board exam next year. Besides it is vacation time. Let me, please!”

“Fine. And you, Mr. Pintu. Are you going to hold a grudge the entire day? Or do you plan to brush your teeth and eat the luchi-aaloo I am going to cook now?”

Luchi-aaloo was their favorite breakfast and her mood lifted when Sugata grinned happily.

—

To be continued

Inevitable (Variation) – Part 2

Posted Mish1 CommentPosted in English, Original, Rupali-Paritosh

“Ms. Banerjee?” Paritosh was surprised to see Rupali at his house a day before she was to start working as Meenal’s counsellor. “Please come in.” It was a Sunday and he was at home.

“I’m sorry to have disturbed you without informing. But I didn’t have your phone number.”

“It’s okay. I wasn’t doing anything. I thought you were due to start tomorrow.”

“Yes. About that, Dr. Khanna. You should tell them that… you don’t want to hire me.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s not a good idea, Dr. Khanna. It won’t help your daughter.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I can’t explain that.”

“But you must.”

She fell silent.

“Look. Ms. Banerjee. If it’s about money–”

“It’s not about that,” she appeared out of her depths.

“Meenal has her troubles, of course, but she is a sweet child. And you, of course, understand her troubles being in this profession, being a counsellor.”

“I am not a counsellor,” she blurted.

“Excuse me?”

She hit her forehead in frustration. She wasn’t supposed to reveal that. But she also looked relieved to have spoken out. “My manager felt that your daughter had taken to me. So, she asked me to pretend to be a counsellor. I am not one.”

“You mean you are still in training or something?” he asked hopefully.

“No. I am not in training. I am not even eligible for it. I am only an admin staff there.”

His brows furrowed.

“Dr. Khanna. It was about your daughter’s well-being. I could not lie. But if you tell them that I have spoken to you, I might lose my job. A job that I really need!”

Paritosh slumped on the bed.

“I… I’m sorry, Dr. Khanna.”

“Mamma… Mamma…” Meenal came out of the adjoining room and rocked herself standing at the door. Rupali smiled sadly at the girl.

“Wait,” he stopped her as she made to leave, “I appreciate the honesty. But do you mind giving it a try, still?”

“But–”

“I know you are not a counsellor. But right now, I need somebody with whom she will stay while I am not at home. I can hire another counsellor if she stays with you. That’s what I had done when her nanny was around. But since she left…”

“But I can’t tell my employers that I had told you.”

“You don’t need to.”

“Then they will bill you for a counsellor.”

“Will you be getting paid from that?”

“Yes. Why?” That was the reward she had been offered to lie. That she would be paid the counsellor’s salary while she stayed with Meenal. The financial reward was high. But what was she to do with her conscience?

“Then there is no need to tell them that.”

“But a nanny’s salary–”

“Ms. Banerjee! This is about my daughter’s well-being. I am not exactly counting my pennies.” he sounded annoyed.

“Of course. I am sorry. Does her mother also work?” she asked just to change the subject.

“Her mother is dead!” he was bitter.

She looked astonished.

Paritosh remembered that she had seen Maya in the supermarket.

“The woman you met, that was Maya. She isn’t her mother. Just my friend. She tries to help. But Meenal doesn’t go to her.”

‘Not “just friend”,’ Rupali thought recalling the packet of condoms. “I’m sorry.”

“Will you come from tomorrow?”

“Yes Sir.”

“8.30 tomorrow, then.”

—

“You are paying the counselor’s salary to an admin staff? She isn’t even a graduate?” Maya was exasperated.

“At least, she was honest, Maya.”

“Honest? But Meenal doesn’t need lessons in honesty, Paritosh. She needs a counsellor who can help her become normal.”

“She isn’t abnormal.”

“I know!”

“Right now, what is important is that she stays with her and is comfortable. I will find another counsellor.”

“Yes. And what else is important is that we get to spend some time together,” she interrupted with a meaningful smile and bent down to kiss him. She had to make up for her carelessness in questioning Meenal’s normalcy. He kissed her back dutifully and felt the usual pang in his heart. He had grown accustomed to ignoring it, but could not grow accustomed to feeling it.

“Dinner?”

“Ms. Banerjee will only stay in the office hours, Maya. We can go for lunch tomorrow.”

“Fine!” she shrugged, obviously not delighted, but trying not to complain.

“Why don’t you come home for dinner? We can have it together.”

“All right.”

—

“This assignment is paying you much better, isn’t it, Didi?” Soumitra asked over dinner.

“Yes. It is,” she replied absent-mindedly.

“Then why don’t you leave this night job? Two jobs, all the housework. You look like a wreck.”

“He is right,” Sugata also chipped in.

“This is an accidental assignment, Piku,” Rupali explained patiently, “As soon as he gets a counsellor, I’d no longer have the job. The night duty here pays well, with not much to do.”

“Why did you tell him you were not a counsellor?” Sugata could get quarrelsome.

“I couldn’t have lied.”

“If your employers don’t mind lying–”

“Baba would be sad to hear you talk like this, Pintu,” she stared into Sugata’s eyes, “Other people’s morals should not define yours.”

“I know, I know.”

Rupali could not help smiling. Sugata tried to put up a façade of being worldly-wise, grown and tough man. But he couldn’t have killed a fly.

“Didi,” The more thoughtful of the twins, Soumitra, started saying something.

But she interrupted him. “You getting a job, even part-time, is out of question. You concentrate on your board exams.”

—

That was as good as her moisturizer and the old foundation could make her look. Sometimes she wondered why did she even care. It wasn’t like she would ever have a future with someone like Mihir – son of the rich proprietor of the pharmacy where she worked at nights. He was only spending his summers in Mumbai, after which he would take off to the US. Why had he even noticed her, much less flirt with her and almost have her for his girlfriend, she could not fathom. Perhaps he just wanted variety in his life, she thought with the cynicism that crept up on her every now and then.

But so what? The time that she spent with him was an escape from the dreariness of the world. She didn’t have to count her pennies. She didn’t have to take care of anybody. He was funny, he made her laugh. And he did not try to peer into her life. When she was with him, she pretended that she was just another twenty-four-year old, meant to have fun in life.

—

To be continued

Inevitable (Variation) – Part 1

Posted Mish1 CommentPosted in English, Original, Rupali-Paritosh

“Mamma…. Mamma…” Rupali was surprised by the faint tugging at her kurta. She turned around to find a little girl, about four years old, standing behind her. She couldn’t spot anyone else in the aisle of the supermarket she was shopping in.

“Oh Lord! Meenal… Come here, baby,” a woman in her late thirties, clad in a green, chiffon saree, appeared there and addressed the girl. But she made no attempt at picking or dragging the child away. Rupali assumed it was her mother. “Paritosh. She has wandered away. Please come here.”

A tall, broad-shouldered man, also in his late thirties, appeared hurriedly from the adjoining aisle.

“Mamma…. Mamma…” the girl rocked as she repeated. Her face was abnormally expressionless.

Rupali looked up, but before her eyes reached the man’s face, they fell on his hands. In one of them, he was holding a packet of condoms.  Flushing at the sight, she looked away. In trying to rest them somewhere else, she ended up looking directly into his eyes. A flicker of recognition lit up both their eyes. But it died in the awkwardness on the situation. He, too, became aware of the packet and hastily dropped it in the shopping basket his companion was carrying.

“Meenu,” he turned his attention to the girl and spoke very softly. His voice was deep, soothing, but also firm.  He held out his hand, “Come here. We have to go.” The girl took his hand and silently followed him.

“Please don’t mind,” the woman apologized before leaving, “She is autistic.”

“It’s okay,” Rupali smiled at her. Autistic? Of course. She should have realized that. That explained her odd behavior. Poor thing!

“Why would she call her Mamma?” she heard the woman’s irritated, hushed voice from the nearby aisle. Rupali was also curious; so she decided to eavesdrop.

“I think she looked a bit like that character… In the show Meenu watches. The actress who plays the mother of the kids…” the man explained patiently.

“But that actress looks beautiful…”

“She is an actress. It’s her job to look beautiful.”

“Well–”

“Hush now. She might hear you. She in in the next aisle”

Rupali sighed. She didn’t need to hear them to know that she could look nothing like an actress. She couldn’t fathom what the child saw in her. At twenty-four she looked older than the saree-clad woman. When she looked in the mirror, she could see the lines, patches and everything that those anti-ageing cream ads talked about controlling. The creams were expensive though. As she made to pick up the 5 Kg pack of dal on sale, she noticed her hands. The dry broken skin was visible around the nails.  She would really have liked to get a manicure done, but… She looked at the bottle of cheap moisturizer in her basket. That would have to do for now.

“Meenu. Stay with Papa.” She heard the now familiar voice through a stack of cereals. Paritosh is what the woman had called him, hadn’t she? Dr. Paritosh Khanna?

“She would go to a stranger in the supermarket. But she won’t come to me.” The woman was complaining.

“It was a stray incident. Don’t take it personally, please!” he sounded helpless and desperate. The child wouldn’t go to her mother? Asking her not to take it personally was harsh and insensitive, Rupali thought. But nothing in his voice was either harsh, or insensitive. Strange world!

—

“What are you doing?” Rupali found Soumitra in the kitchen.

“Just thought of making some khichdi–”

“Are you already hungry?”

“For dinner, Didi.”

“I will cook before leaving. Why are you–”

“We can help.”

“What about your tuition?”

“We had a day off today. Sir is not well–”

“Hmm. Listen, Piku. Can you go to Pintu’s cricket match, tomorrow?” Piku and Pintu were the pet names of her twin younger brothers, Soumitra and Sugata.

“I can. But what happened? You don’t have an extra shift tomorrow at the clinic, do you?” he frowned.

“No. I have just…” she sighed, “I have promised Mihir to meet him.”

“Okay! Do you want some tea?”

“I’m making it. Did you have any snacks?”

“No. I was going to take some.”

“Take it. I will bring tea. And wake Pintu up. Why is he sleeping at this hour?”

“He had a practice session. He is tired after that.”

“Whatever! This is not the time to sleep.”

—

“I’m sorry, Dr. Khanna. But we have tried three different counsellors. They are all highly qualified. Unfortunately, your daughter is just not getting comfortable with anyone. Unless someone who she is comfortable with is around, it doesn’t look like any of the counsellors can do much…”

Paritosh wasn’t looking at the manager of the clinic even as she continued her endless apologies and explanations. Ever since Meenal’s nanny had left, he had been in a fix. She wouldn’t stay with anyone other than himself. He had approached the clinic because they worked with autistic children and others with special needs. It was the most reputed institution in the city. Will he have to take a work sabbatical? Or leave his job altogether. Financially, he could afford to do that. But… He did love teaching.

The manager’s monologue and Paritosh’ reverie were interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Yes?” The manager was relieved at the interruption. For how long could she continue explaining the hopeless situation to this handsome, but miserable, professor?

“Ma’am. I am really sorry to interrupt, but the accountant is waiting. Today is the last day for depositing advance tax. Needed your signature on the check…”

“Mamma… Mamma…” Paritosh hadn’t looked at the intruder until he heard Meenal’s voice.

Then he turned with a start to find herself looking at the embarrassed “supermarket girl”. Manager’s open stare, and his own, made her flush.

“Do you know them?” The manager asked.

“No… Not really,” she replied and looked from Paritosh to the manager and then at the girl.

“Just see if she comes to you,” the manager asked her.

“Excuse me?”

“For some reason, she seems to identify you with her mother. Just see if she comes to you. You might be able to help us.”

Hesitatingly, Rupali made to pick the girl up in her arms.

“Don’t,” Paritosh interrupted almost rudely. Then he realized that he had sounded harsh and spoke apologetically, “She doesn’t like being picked up. Just… give her your hands and see if…”

Rupali did as instructed and Meenal happily held her outstretched hand.

“That’s good, isn’t it, Dr. Khanna? Rupali. Give me ten minutes. I will come out and sign the check.”

—

To be continued

The Unsuitable Boy (Part 7)

Posted Mish5 CommentsPosted in English, Karishma-Siddharth, Original

The phone buzzed. Another message! Siddhartha sighed. He settled his mother back in her bed. They had just come back from another one of her chemotherapy sessions. After making sure that she had everything she would need, he came back to his room and took out his phone.

“I need your help. Please!” the message read. She had been sending messages since morning at exact intervals of two hours. This was the fifth one.

“I am sorry. I really am.”

“Talk to me, please.”

“I made a bigger fool of myself yesterday than I had done before. Will you never forgive?”

“There was no withdrawal from my account today. Isn’t a chemo session scheduled?”

Those were the first four messages.

She must have known what will finally get to him when she wrote the fifth one. He called back and sprang out of his bed on hearing her voice.

“What the hell happened to you?” he asked.

“Nothing. Caught cold, I think.”

“You have been crying.”

Silence.

“Karishma, I…”

“Please meet me.”

“Yes. Yes, I will. But Ma has just come back from chemo. I can’t leave her right now.”

“Can I come there?”

“Are you sure you want to?”

“Yes,” her voice was barely a whisper.

“I will text you the address. And call me from the cab if there is a problem in locating.”

—

“Nobody called,” Karishma told him when he asked if anyone from her husband’s family had asked after her. He had called Mr. Jain and informed him about Karishma’s decision to go to a hotel. But he had expected that someone would call Karishma and perhaps ask her to go back home.

“And your Uncle?”

“You have not been going there recently?”

“With Ma’s health I really don’t have time or inclination to teach school kids anymore. They understand, of course. But shouldn’t you have informed them?”

“May be I will. After I have made my arrangements.”

“And what are your plans?”

“I have to find some place to live. Then I will look for a job.”

He nodded.

“Why didn’t you withdraw money today? I have enough to last me a year. You don’t have to worry about it.”

“I didn’t need it, Karishma. The doctor says that this will be the last chemo for a while. He thinks cancer will be in remission for now. We, of course, have to keep checking.”

“You aren’t lying to me, are you? I am not running out of money.”

He buried his head in his hands, “No. I’m not trying to… I don’t try to manipulate you as if you were a child. I don’t think you would make stupid plans to make your marriage fail and I take what you say seriously. I don’t know what have you convinced yourself of and why.”

She looked down and mumbled another apology.

“You should let your uncle’s family know, at least.”

“I had told Mamiji. She knew exactly what the problem was. And she knew that I was being unnecessarily humiliated and shuttled between all kinds of doctors – homeopathy, ayurvedic, yunani, and what not. Even pundits and ojhas and all sorts of charlatans. But she never spoke a word for me. I don’t think I owe them anything.”

“Fine,” he said, though he made a mental note that he had to inform them, “What do you need help with?”

She looked away, embarrassed, then spoke in a low voice, “I have never lived on my own. I need to find a house, a job and everything else, I don’t know what all. And divorce.”

“You are sure you don’t want to go back to your uncle’s family? Even if they ask you to?”

“They won’t ask. They were done with me after getting me married.”

“They will, most likely. Whether they care for you or not, it will be an embarrassment to the family.”

“Even if they ask, I don’t want to go.”

“Both your families are business partners now. And you are the connecting link…”

“Why should I care?”

“I’m not saying that you can’t or shouldn’t do it. But staying on your own is a big decision, Karishma–”

“This is what my father would have wanted. He wasn’t bringing me up to be a show piece in a rich family. He wanted me to stand on my own two feet. He just didn’t survive to see it happening.”

“Fair enough. Let’s get started from tomorrow. House-hunting first.”

—

“Sid?”

“Kanishk? What a surprise? Come in,” Siddhartha got up to welcome his friend, “How are things?”

“You have become conspicuous by your absence, Professor, so I thought I would drop by.”

“Good you came. I am sorry. I am unable to visit your house these days. Ma’s cancer is in remission, but she is too weak and needs constant help with even regular activities.”

“And then there is Karishma, right?”

“What about Karishma?” Siddhartha laughed nervously, “She is not a child in my care. She is doing fine by herself.”

“That’s that, then,” Kanishk smiled.

“How are the two families getting along?”

“Women are not talking to each other. Men are trying to look graceful. Vikram refuses to talk and the gossips are about that he is gay.”

“You always think these things happen to other people…” Siddhartha murmured.

Kanishk understood that he wasn’t talking only about Karishma’s doomed marriage, but also about his mother’s illness.

“Listen Sid. Papa is worried about Karishma and she refuses to return home.”

“Let her be. She is doing fine.”

Karishma had found a small, but comfortable one-bedroom house for living and had also taken up a job as a teacher in a nearby school.

“She’d still be lonely.”

“He is thinking of getting her married again?”

Kanishk nodded.

Siddhartha shook his head. “I don’t approve of such plans right now and I am definitely not meddling. Once was bad enough.”

“Don’t meddle. Be a part of it.”

He flushed as if he had been caught thieving. “Whatever can you mean?” he growled to hide his embarrassment.

“Oh, come off it, Sid. I have always known how much you care for her. Everyone has, and only because everyone trusted you to behave correctly did they not bother to keep you apart or anything. And you didn’t break anyone’s trust. But are you going to act like you don’t love her? Why has she turned to you for advice and help while she is avoiding her own family? Isn’t it right that you should get married? And what I have come here to tell you is that you can stop behaving correctly for the sake of other people. Papa will be happy if you two got married. You will have his blessings.”

Siddhartha spoke after a long pause, “It isn’t just about me, Kanishk. It is about her too. More about her than me. She is the victim of the chaos.”

“She adores you. Don’t tell me you don’t know. She has been infatuated with you for a long time now.”

“She was!” he sighed, “She was infatuated with me. Now she is afraid that I will propose out of pity and she will have to accept out of gratitude.”

“You are making it more complicated than it is.”

“Life is complicated, isn’t it?”

—

“Bhaiya? How are you?” Karishma smiled as she slipped into her seat in the coffee shop, “Why didn’t you come home? It’s small, but not bad.”

Kanishsk smiled back, “I wasn’t avoiding your home, sis. It was just more convenient to meet you near your school. How are you?”

“I’m fine. How is everyone at home?”

“You can visit any time and find out for yourself.”

She averted her eyes.

“Karishma!” he reached out and pressed her hand gently, “I am not claiming that you haven’t suffered because of our decisions. But surely you don’t think Sid had anything to do with it.”

She was startled, “What has Siddhartha… Prof. Sen got to do with it?”

“He thinks you don’t like him anymore.”

She shook her head and looked down. She spoke after a while, “What are you trying to say?”

“It is good that you have taken charge of your life and living it your way. Now also take charge of your love life. Talk to Sid. He is utterly confused about you and feels guilty for what happened.”

“Guilty?”

“Why am I going in circles? Here is the thing. He loves you. And you love him. Both of you might think that nobody knew, but that’s not the case. Everybody trusted him and you. Both of you have been the very model of exemplary behavior. But now too much water has passed under the bridge. What happened to you was wrong, but Papa does want you to be happy, Karishma. If you and Sid married, you will have his blessings. The rest is up to you.”

—

Siddhartha was aware of the tension in the small hall, cozily furnished with mattresses, bolsters and cushions. She had decided against spending money on a sofa. “I don’t have to entertain guests here,” she had said.

“Thank you,” he said as she handed him a cup of tea. Then she too sat down on the mattress and absentmindedly cradled her cup in her hands, not drinking from it.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

She shook her head and flashed a nervous smile at him.

He cleared his throat and said, “You know, Karishma. Life doesn’t end with one bad experience. I know you are enjoying your independence. But having a life partner doesn’t necessarily mean losing it.”

“You think I should marry again?” she said staring down into her cup.

“It doesn’t have to be now. You are young and have all the time in the world. But you should keep yourself open to the idea. You are beautiful and intelligent. You will find a good and suitable boy.”

She looked up, and met his eyes, “Why did you never marry?”

He seemed to have thought of the answer in advance. He replied unhesitatingly, “Because I wasn’t suitable for the woman I loved.”

“Shouldn’t she have decided that? What you should really decide is whether she was suitable for you?”

“How else could I have fallen in love with her? A forbidden kind of love at that?”

“Then you should tell her.”

“She can do much better. I am still unsuitable for her.”

“Trust her to take the right decision for herself. She might not have been given that chance ever.”

Without breaking his eye-contact with her, Siddhartha set his cup aside and crept closer to her on the mattress. He took away her untouched teacup and set that aside too.

“You had asked me once if I would have married you. If I ever thought of you. The answer, which I had evaded back then, is yes. Yes, I have thought of you. Thought of you a lot since the first time I met you, but even more after you started talking to me. And since then, trying to love any other woman has been a futile exercise. So I ask you to take the right decision. I don’t ask you to accept me. I ask you to accept or reject me whichever is right for you.”

She leaned forward a planted a quick peck on his lips. “Yes,” she said, “You are the most suitable boy for me. The man for me. The life-long friend and partner I want and need.”

This time he leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers. His kiss was more demanding than hers had been.

– The End –

 

The Unsuitable Boy (Part 6)

Posted MishLeave a commentPosted in English, Karishma-Siddharth, Original

It was the sight of him that gave her the courage to finally put her plan into action. He had asked her every time they met over last few months if she was unwell. She wasn’t, but she might as well have been. Given the number of times she had been to see the doctors in last few months. She hadn’t told him that. She had always smiled and asked him not to worry.

She had just come back after seeing a gynecologist – yet another one. Her mother-in-law had not been with her and that gave her the perfect opportunity!

Siddhartha had come to meet Mr. Jain and had stopped by to say hello to Mrs. Jain.

“Mummy ji!” Karishma ran to her mother-in-law and hugged her, a gesture that made the older woman awkward. She was definitely not used this show of affection from her daughter-in-law. She eyed her curiously as did Siddhartha. Vikram, who had just wandered into the hall on hearing Siddhartha’s voice, looked puzzled.

Karishma whispered something in Mrs. Jain’s ears and her eyes went wide.

“Really?”

Karishma just nodded and stood up to leave.

“What is it?” Vikram asked taking a few steps towards his wife and mother.

“Well, congratulations, Vikram. The father-to-be, eh? Finally!” Mrs. Jain replied grinning widely.

From the corner of her eyes Karishma saw Siddhartha’s face going taut, but he arranged it back quickly into a smile.

“Congratulations Vikram, Karishma,” he approached Vikram to shake his hand, but Vikram’s violent reaction took him unawares. Vikram grabbed Karishma and pushed her against a wall.

“What drama is this, Karishma? Whose child is this?” he growled.

“Vikram, you are hurting me.”

Mrs. Jain was dumbstruck, but Siddhartha rushed and pulled Vikram away from Karishma. “What are you doing?”

“You stay away from this,” Vikram thundered, “Or may be not! May be its time to confess. You have done this, haven’t you?” He charged at Siddhartha this time, but Siddhartha was able to hold him off.

“Enough, Vikram!” Mrs. Jain cried, and that had some moderating effect on him, but he was still shooting dagger eyes at Siddhartha and Karishma.

Siddhartha was puzzled. But Karishma walked up confidently to her husband.

“Why Vikram? What’s wrong? Hasn’t the entire family been waiting for this day? Haven’t I been made to see a new gynecologist every other day just so we could hear this news? Why are you so upset?”

“Shut up, you whore,” he muttered menacingly, keeping his voice low, perhaps in deference to his mother’s presence.

“Why should I shut up? Why are you so sure that this child cannot be yours? Tell me, Vikram. Tell everyone.”

He glared and made to retreat. But Karishma yanked his hands.

“Why are you running away? After insinuating what you did, how can you bloody run away?” She was too angry now to mind her words, “Tell them. Tell everyone why the child cannot be yours. Or do you want to bring up this child as your own?”

“You go to hell!”

“Why can this child not be yours? Why are you so fucking sure?”

“Because I have never fucked you,” he screamed, “Because I haven’t as much as touched you.”

Karishma stepped back, grimacing, her face contorted with disgust. “That’s right. That’s right, Mummy ji,” she turned to her mother-in-law, “I am not pregnant. I can’t be. Because I haven’t slept with anyone. Not even my husband. Why has that been the case and why has he let me be mentally tortured and led from one doctor to the another all these months, only he can explain.”

With that all the anger and passion suddenly seemed to take leave of her. A cloud of misery enveloped her and tears broke through it like thin showers. She ran out of the house.

Siddhartha looked around at the stunned faces of Vikram and his mother, barely registered Mr. Jain’s presence on the stairs – he must have heard everything too – and ran out.

—

“Karishma!” He had to run after her and yank her hand to make her stop, “Where are you going?”

“Anywhere, away from this,” she said, sniffling, trying hard to wipe her tears, but failing as fresh tears overpowered her.

“Come with me.”

“Where?”

“My home, where else?”

“I can’t… I can’t face anybody right now. Kaki will be there.”

“She is sleeping most of the time.”

Karishma still shook her head.

“What were you planning? Do you want me to drop you to your uncle’s place?”

She shook her head again, “I will go to a hotel.”

“A hotel?” He was exasperated, but relented, “Fine. But let me drop you.”

She agreed to that.

“Please stop at some mall on the way. I need to buy some stuff. And then…”

She told him which hotel she wanted to go to. She had obviously been preparing for this. He drove her around, to the mall, then to the hotel, mostly in silence, and waited until she had checked in. Then he made to leave. But turned back and asked, “You were going through so much and you didn’t think of telling me even once?”

She looked way for a moment before meeting his eyes, “Would you come to my room and stay a while.”

He nodded and followed her.

“I need you to know,” she blurted as soon as they were behind the closed doors, “That it isn’t my doing. I didn’t plan for my marriage to fail.”

He stood silent in confusion and shock. Why did she feel the need to explain that?

She continued, “Before the wedding I had behaved just so…” she seemed to struggle for the right word, then settled on, “inappropriately.”

“What are you talking about?” he finally found his voice.

“The way I had… Asking you if you would have married me… I think back to it and feel so ashamed at my imposition. I must assure you, today, that you don’t need to take my antics seriously. It isn’t like you have to propose to marry to me or feel responsible in anyway–”

“What the hell, Karishma!” Busy with her guilt-ridden monologue and consumed with her fears, she hadn’t noticed the changes in his expressions. His face was now flushed with anger. “Yeah, right! That’s what I am worried about ever since that scoundrel lunged at you in front on my eyes! That I will have to marry you. How considerate, Karishma. And what wonderful thoughts!”

He stormed out of the room and she was too dumbfounded to follow.

—

To be continued

 

The Unsuitable Boy (Part 5)

Posted Mish1 CommentPosted in English, Karishma-Siddharth, Original

“Is Kaki fine?” she dropped by his office a couple of days later. Although he had kept his promise of visiting her at home, she still came by once in a while.

She almost knew the answer by the looks of him. His eyes were bloodshot and there were dark circles around them. As if he hadn’t been sleeping well.

“I don’t know,” he said, then added after a pause, “Perhaps not. There is a biopsy scheduled for tomorrow.”

“Biopsy?” she asked, alarmed.

“They suspect… stomach cancer. At her age it won’t be easy.”

She had never seen him so dejected before. She held his hands and took him out on the terrace.

“I feel like such a moron, Karishma,” he spoke with an urgency. He must have been dying to talk to someone, “I should have taken her stomach troubles and heartburns more seriously. But she kept saying it was nothing, just old age, and I kept believing it. Only when it became difficult for her to eat did we go to the doctor. And now…”

“We don’t know yet that it is too late. Let the biopsy results come. They can manage cancer till quite advanced state these days. I’m sure it will be all right.”

He smiled, weakly, and said, “Yeah. Perhaps. I’m sorry. I’m the one boring you with sob stories now…”

“Prof. Sen. These are not sob stories. In fact, I would hate you if you didn’t tell me. Will you call me after the biopsy results are out tomorrow? Please?”

He sighed, “Okay. I will.”

—

A letter had come from the accountant and Karishma was going to her father-in-law to hand it over to him. But she stopped short at the door when she heard him discussing Siddhartha with his wife.

“Siddhartha called. He needed some money,” Mr. Jain said.

“What for?”

“Don’t you know? Jhilmil has been diagnosed with cancer.”

“Oh! That. Yes. How much?”

“Well. His expenses will be endless. Whatever we could give, he said.”

“How will he ever return it?”

“I don’t know. But I can’t just say no.”

“Why not? Haven’t we already done enough for them? And what is the point in sinking money in the treatment of such an old woman? For how long will she live anyway?”

“Oh, for God’s sake. I hope you don’t expect your own sons to reason like that should something happen to you. Anyway, you leave this to me. I will figure out what to do.”

To ensure that she was not caught eavesdropping, she knocked when she heard her mother-in-law’s footsteps approaching the door. She handed the letter and left without a word.

—

She came in without knocking and he didn’t notice because he was busy on phone.

“Yes… So can I get a loan against it? Right… yes… A personal loan I guess…”

She waited until his call was over. He jumped in surprise on seeing her in front of him.

“Karishma. When did you come?”

“Just now.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize. Please sit.”

“I’m so disappointed with you.”

“What for?”

“You didn’t think it important to tell me that you needed money for Kaki’s treatment.”

“But… It’s okay, Karishma. My savings will last for a few months. And I am making arrangements for more–”

“Before going ahead and taking loans against whatever you have, how about tapping some friends?” She held out a checkbook for him.

He took it uncertainly and asked, “What is it?”

“My checkbook. All the leaves are signed. I will keep you updated on how much cash the account has.”

“Oh my God!” he sprang out of his chair, “Karishma, I can’t–”

“You don’t remember what I had told you, do you?”

He looked at her blankly.

“That I will never have much for you. But perhaps some money….”

“Karishma–”

“You are ready to borrow from my father-in-law, perhaps even from my Uncle. So why not me?”

“They would know what they are doing. They won’t hand me blank signed checkbooks. And you, Karishma – you may need your money someday. If anything goes wrong–”

“Won’t you give me shelter, if something goes wrong?”

“Karishma!”

“As you yourself predicted, I might need it someday.”

“What are you–”

“Don’t cast me aside, Siddhartha,” she grew tearful and didn’t realize that she had used his first name. He did and gulped hard on hearing that. She continued, “Please promise me that you won’t borrow until I can’t help you any longer. Please!”

How stubborn and difficult could she get! Was she going to throw away everything she had because he had bought her a plastic bracelet all those years ago.

“It was a twenty-rupees plastic bracelet, Karishma. It isn’t worth throwing away your small fortune.”

“My mother-in-law thinks that your mother is an old woman already. It isn’t worth spending money trying to cure her cancer. Do you agree?”

“What the–”

“Exactly. You know better than to put price-tag on everything, don’t you? Please? Prof. Sen?”

He stayed silent for a long time, staring at the checkbook in his hand. Then he dropped it on his table and came around to face her.

“If I try to refuse any longer,” he said, “It will be an insult to you, to us, and to your generosity and capacity to love. I will use it. I will have to. And I will try to use it responsibly. You also promise to tell me accurately what your financial situation is like so that I can decide how far I can go. Will you promise me that?”

She nodded.

“And there is something else. Just a while back you had called me Siddhartha.”

Her eyes widened. “I had?” she flushed, “Sorry – I didn’t–”

“Will you, in future, continue to call me that? If we are friends, isn’t it high time that we got the formality of Prof. Sen out of the way?”

She gulped. “I don’t know. I am so used to it. I will try.”

“Please do,” he smiled. For the first time that day she saw a genuine smile on his face. She reciprocated automatically with a smile of her own.

—

To be continued

 

The Unsuitable Boy (Part 4)

Posted Mish1 CommentPosted in English, Karishma-Siddharth, Original

“Ah! There is our Professor Sahab!” Vikram exclaimed when Siddhartha walked up the stage with his mother to meet him and Karishma for their reception. Siddhartha’s mother was supposed to be there for their wedding as Vikram was her old employer and benefactor’s son. But she had not been feeling well and hence had to contend with coming for reception.

“Congratulations Vikram, Karishma,” Siddhartha wished them formally and introduced his mother to Karishma.

Karishma, bent down to touch the old woman’s feet despite her protests. “Such a humble child. God bless you,” Mrs. Sen crooned.

“Your son’s find, Jhilmil Kaki,” Vikram grinned and then turned to Karishma, “I hear that all the kids in your household have Siddhartha to thank for passing their school exams. Did you also study under him?”

“Not for the school tuitions,” she replied without flinching, “But the university Maths.”

“Ah, right! How could I forget. You are a Maths student. That’s why my father wanted you in the family. Somebody has to be able to do the accounts right. And Siddhartha Babu here, the son my father always wanted but could not have, wouldn’t agree to be the family accountant.”

“That’s enough, Vikram,” Siddhartha said more harshly than he intended, although because Vikram was much younger to him, he didn’t hesitate in giving him a piece of mind once in a while. He was a carefree fellow who didn’t mind much. “You sound drunk.”

“Drunk on happiness, my friend. Now! When are you getting hitched? Kaki, why don’t you do something?”

“He is stubborn as a mule,” his mother replied, “I can’t throw a girl at him, can I?”

“I and Karishma will launch a joint venture now, Kaki. Don’t worry. What do you say, Karishma?”

“You should get married. I’m sure you will make some woman very happy,” Karishma addressed Siddhartha directly.

Siddhartha searched her face for a moment to see if there was any reproach or complain in her words. He could find none. She was sincere. He sighed and then plastered a smile on his face, “Let’s get through with one wedding first.”

—

“Karishma! Come in. How are you?”

She walked into his office, smiling, unlike the last time.

“You don’t visit here as often as you used to visit back home.”

“There are no kids to be tutored by me there. What brings you here?”

“You? I came to see you.”

His smile disappeared, “And you are again meeting a friend at the university, I suppose? Not me?”

She grinned, bashfully, but didn’t look contrite.

“You shouldn’t do that, Karishma,” he said gravely, “This isn’t right. You have a–”

“You don’t trust me to behave myself,” she interrupted, growing stiff and frowning.

“Be fair in your assignment of probability. Consider the possibility that I don’t trust myself. But–” he had blurted something he shouldn’t have and needed to change the topic,” It seems you are still angry with me. What is going on? How are things with Vikram? How is he?”

“He think Mathematics is all about doing the sums like in accounting book. Other than that he is fine, I guess,” she smiled, but it looked like a grimace. “I should leave,” she added immediately and made to stand up.

“No, wait! Karishma, please. I am sorry. I can’t seem to do things right by you ever. But the fact is, I am really happy to see you. Thank you for coming. Please stay a while.”

She didn’t look cheered up, but obliged him and kept her seat.

“Would you like to go out and get a coffee or something?” he asked, hoping the break the ice.

“We shouldn’t go out. Someone might see us.”

He nodded, “You stay here. I will get some from the staff room machine.”

She opened her mouth as if to protest, but then closed it without speaking. When he came back with the coffee he found her hunched over the table with her head buried in her hands.

“What is it, Karishma?” He was seriously worried now.

“Nothing,” she looked up, “Good you got coffee. I had a slight headache.” She took the cup from him eagerly.

“I think I am getting bored,” she said after a while.

“Why?”

“There is only so much housekeeping you can do. There isn’t much else to do. Vikram is also often away on business trips.”

“Perhaps you should consider joining the master’s program from the next term.”

“I asked. But they don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“And why not?”

She sighed. “They expect me to have a baby, and hence more responsibility, soon.”

Siddhartha did not know how to respond to that. He held his cup in both hands and came around to his seat.

“Karishma. What is it?”

She grinned now, “Nothing, really. I shouldn’t bore you with my silly sob stories. What about you? What have you been up to?”

So he told her some stories about work and from there they got into some academic and some political discussion. It was like their car rides back home. After about an hour, Karishma got up to leave.

“I really should leave now,” she said, “Thank you, for humoring me.”

“Don’t talk like that, Karishma. Please.”

“Drop by sometime, will you?”

“I will.”

—

Siddhartha ran into Karishma and her mother-in-law on his way out of the hospital.  He had brought his mother for some tests.

“Karishma, Auntie? What happened? Who is unwell?”

“Just a routine checkup,” Karishma replied hastily, “What about you? Kaki? Are you unwell?”

“She has been feeling weak lately. We have just given the blood samples for some test.”

“Hope it isn’t anything serious.”

“Hope not.”

They took each other’s leave, but after a few steps, Siddhartha looked back and found Karishma looking back at the same time. He thought she looked anxious. She thought the same about him!

—

To be continued

 

The Unsuitable Boy (Part 3)

Posted MishLeave a commentPosted in English, Karishma-Siddharth, Original

“Come in,” he said automatically, when he heard the knock, expecting it to be student. So looking up and finding her in the doorway startled him. “Karishma?” He stood up and went around his table as she walked in gingerly. “What happened? What brings you here?”

“Are you free for a while? I needed to talk to you.”

“Of course. Please sit,” he motioned to a chair, but she shook her head and looked at back door of his office. His office was in one of the oldest building of the university, and had its downsides with old plumbing and wirings, peeling plasters and water leaks. But one advantage was that it was spacious and had an attached balcony, almost as big as a terrace. It was a favorite spot with her. When she had to wait for him to wrap up his work before dropping her home, she preferred to be out there with a book than wait in his office. “I find the insides stifling,” she would say.

Presently he nodded and led her out on to the terrace. They stood in silence for a while gazing at the overcast monsoon sky.

At last she spoke, “I’m sorry about Saturday–”

“I’m sorry,” he interjected, “I had no idea Uncle hadn’t told you. But…” He hesitated and took a deep breath before continuing, “It’s little late, Karishma. Are you set against the idea of marrying Vikram?”

They were standing side by side, and weren’t looking at each-other. Their eyes were still fixed on the horizon in front of them.

“I’m not aware of anything objectionable against him. So, I guess not. I am not set against it. Anyway what does it matter?”

He turned towards her and in an uncharacteristic gesture held her. “I’m sorry, Karishma. I really am. If there is anything I can do–”

“I didn’t come here to hear you apologize, Prof. Sen. I came to say thank you.”

He stepped back, his brows furrowed, “What for?”

She fished around in her purse and took out two objects that made his eyes go wide.

“Thank you for the kindness you have always shown me. At times I might not even have known, but at others, I have.”

In one hand she was holding the old doll he had rescued from Aaradhya on their first meeting. In the other a blue plastic bracelet.

His stared fixedly at the bracelet, suddenly finding his throat parched. “You knew?” he croaked.

“This doll,” Karishma talked about the other object instead, “Was tattered ever since I got it because it was with my parents on their last fatal ride. They had gone to attend a wedding and I was at home because my exams were going on. To compensate for that, Papa had promised to bring me a gift. This was that gift. They never came back from that ride, this doll did. Just like this. Their last gift for me. Since you helped me get it back from Aru Jiji I always kept it hidden to safeguard it. And this-” She came to the bracelet then, “Is the only real gift I have received after the doll. Right now they are buying loads of gifts for me in preparation for the wedding. Apparently I am rescuing the family and the business with this wedding. Everyone is obliged. But I will never forget that you had remembered a friendless girl when nobody cared for her.”

Siddhartha did not try to stop his eyes from getting moist. “It was nothing, Karishma,” he replied in a heavy, throaty voice, “I never thought… I never found you wearing it. I assumed you didn’t get it or no longer wanted it.”

“It was too precious to risk wearing.”

It hadn’t costed him even twenty rupees. Even with his limited means in those days he hadn’t thought twice before buying that little piece of plastic.

“The Jains are really looking forward to this wedding, Karishma,” he said, “You will be the eldest daughter-in-law. You will have responsibilities and people will look up to you. You will not be friendless again.”

She looked at him as if she didn’t hear him at all and asked, “Did you ever think of me? Would you have married me if your obligation to the two families wasn’t in the way?”

“Karishma!”

“I need to hear. One way or the other,” her voice shook and she averted her eyes, but she still stood her ground.

“You must know this. My debts are not yours to pay. What I can or cannot do about you has nothing to do with my obligations.”

“Then?”

“God! Karishma, don’t you understand? Nothing works in my favor. I am the most unsuitable person you could think of. I am too old for you. I could be your father you know–”

“I don’t think my mother will appreciate the insinuation,” she replied, slightly bitterly.

“Joke about it if you want, but I don’t belong to your community and while what I have today feels luxurious to me, I am still too poor to ask for your hand from your family.”

“Poor,” she snorted, “How much did it cost?” she lifted the bracelet to him.

He stood before her, tongue-tied. His face, contorted with pain and guilt, struck her and she grew contrite.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I’m firing away at you as if you promised me something and then betrayed me. That wasn’t my intention. It just… I did really just come to say thank you. You have been a good friend to me. And I will never forget that.”

“I hope to be your friend even in future, Karishma. If you can put up with it.”

“Remember to visit me sometimes then. And I will never have much for you. But I will have money, I have been assured. Eldest daughter-in-law and all. If this ‘poverty’ of yours ever really becomes troublesome… Oh what am I saying… But will you kiss me once?”

If he was surprised by that, he didn’t show it. He cupped her face and bent forward. Then planted a kiss on her forehead.

“I am not going to. Because I really want you to start your new life on a hopeful note. I want you to be happy. And if you felt you were dishonest at the beginning of a new relationship, you will not be happy.”

They went back to his office silently.

“How did you come?” he asked.

“Car. The driver is waiting. I should leave now.”

“Wait. There was something I had to bring to you anyway. Perhaps you can take it right away. Vikram’s mother had asked me to pick these up for you from the jewelers. Her gift.” He handed her a velvet jewel box. She opened it to find two heavy gold kangans inside. She turned the open box towards him and said, “I’m afraid you will have to make the trip home. This is for everyone else to see. My gift–” she lifted the plastic bracelet to him once again, “I am taking with me.”

He stood motionless as she walked away. At the door, she turned, “Also, I have come out on the pretext of meeting a friend at the university. Nobody knows I am meeting you.”

And then she was gone.

Siddhartha closed the lid of the jewel box and slipped it back in his drawer. Then he slumped back on his chair. What had just happened? It was madness and he should have known better.

—

To be continued