Mish' Fiction

Rupali found herself staring the medicine cabinets mindlessly while doing the inventory. Since the footfalls were less in the night shift, she had the responsibility of taking inventory periodically and matching it with the records. It was a good way to pass time and to keep herself from falling asleep. But tonight do what she may, she wasn’t able to concentrate. For some reason, the way Paritosh had been glancing at her that morning kept coming back to her and made her uneasy. And then that invitation for the outing. Including her brothers too. She was confused. She didn’t know what the right thing to do was. She could refuse to go. But then Meenal won’t go and Paritosh may cancel the plan for himself and Maya too. She could go with them leaving her brothers behind. But weekends were precious with her family. She didn’t want to compromise on that. And the boys may actually enjoy the outing as Paritosh had suggested. Much more than she would. Didn’t they deserve some indulgence? By themselves the three of them never ventured beyond a park or an occasional movie. Sometimes she paid for their school picnics, but most of the times they had to forgo that too. So yes – she should accept the invite. Why not? He wanted her to come for his reasons. To take care of his daughter. He can very well compensate for it by letting her brothers come along too. Something continued to nag her, but she decided to settle on accepting the invitation.

She saw Mihir approach. He sometimes did that towards the closing hours. They chatted until her replacement arrived and then he dropped her to the bus stop. She was happy to see him. Despite having taken a decision about it, her mind was in an overdrive analyzing the pros and cons of Paritosh’ invitations. Mihir would be a welcome diversion from that. And one shelf not inventoried could be made up for the next day.

He smiled at her and then kissed her. His kisses still felt nothing but a lot of wetness to her. But she had learned to fight the urge to wipe it off.

“One more hour?” he asked; there was an edge in his voice.

She nodded and smiled.

His eyes looked unusually sharp today and she soon knew why.

“My folks aren’t at home,” he said, “Would you like to come home after this?”

She knew what it meant. She had known sooner or later he would ask. But she still didn’t know what she wanted. What was her future, she asked herself. As far as she could see there was nothing exciting coming up. She would continue to slog for years to bring up her brothers. If they turned out all right, she could expect some relief then. But it would be too late to think for herself. She was twenty-four now. If she had to enjoy life, then now was the time. Career, marriage, children were not for her. But perhaps she could steal a few moments of joy and recklessness. The way she had been doing with Mihir all this summer. Why not another step? A summer of recklessness and an hour of passion to be remembered fondly in the long, dull days that lay ahead of her.

“I would,” she told Mihir, “Provided I can bill you for this.” She picked out a packet a condom and tossed it to him.

He grinned, “Careful, aren’t we? Bill it, then.”

—

“Ms. Banerjee!” Maya opened the door for her on Sunday, “And they are?”

Maya’s raised eyebrows and piercing, questioning eyes made Rupali nervous, and she faltered as she said, “My brothers…”

“Please come in,” Paritosh appeared at the door and came to her rescue, “Maya, that’s Soumitra – right? – yes and the other one Sugata. They don’t look alike, but they are twins.”

“Hello Dr. Khanna. Hello, Ma’am.”

Maya nodded stiffly in response and walked into Paritosh’ bedroom.

“Mamma… Mamma…” Meenal came to Rupali and held her hands.

“We are going for an outing today, aren’t we?”  Rupali kneeled to face the child, “We will have fun.”

“Guys,” Paritosh addressed the twins, “Please make yourself comfortable. We are almost ready. We leave in another five minutes.” After ensuring that they were comfortably seated, Paritosh followed Maya to his bedroom.

“We have quite a party, Paritosh,” Maya grinded her teeth as she tried to keep a lid on her annoyance.

“I had to invite them, Maya. It wasn’t fair to expect her to leave them behind on the weekend. She’s their guardian.”

”You could have consulted me.”

Deep down Paritosh knew that he should just apologize and get on with it. But he also felt trapped and that made his quarrelsome.

“I’m trying hard, Maya, to fix things. I’m sorry that I can’t offer you the carefree teenage romance. But this is what my life is. And I can’t change it.”

“Stop playing the victim, Paritosh. All you had to do was to tell me what you were planning. Or do you not trust me to see your point of view?”

“Whatever I was planning, it was for you, for us. Now they are waiting outside. Do you want to go or not?”

Maya closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then she looked at Paritosh and said stiffly, “Let’s go!”

—

Paritosh had rented an SUV for the trip. Soumitra and Sugata made themselves comfortable on the back row. Rupali sat with Meenal in the middle one and Maya sat next to Paritosh, who was in the driving seat. As soon as they started, the CD that he had inserted while bringing the car home from the rental shop started playing. It was a CD of Ghazals.

“Is everyone getting bored?” Paritosh asked after a few minutes. He had seen Maya yawn, twins looking bored and Rupali lying back with her eyes closed. “I can tune to FM radio instead,” he continued, “They would air something more contemporary.”

“Yes,” said Maya. “No,” said Rupali at the same time, then changed her response to defer to Maya, “I mean yes. Something contemporary will be nice.”

Paritosh tuned to the local FM radio. On the way they decided to take a tea break. But Meenal wouldn’t agree to get out of the vehicle; so Rupali offered to stay back with her. Paritosh thanked her and left the AC in the car on.

“Shall I get something for your, Didi?” Soumitra asked as he got down.

“No. I’m fine,” she replied.

But after a while he came back with a cup of tea for her. “Dr. Khanna insisted,” he explained, “And he didn’t let us pay for our tea either.”

She nodded.

Soumitra and Sugata sat inside the roadside restaurant with their tea, while Paritosh and Maya walked a little further. Rupali couldn’t take her eyes off them and she hoped that they didn’t notice her gaze. She couldn’t hear them, but they were talking. She finally averted her eyes, when she saw Paritosh and Maya kissing. But not for long. After a while she saw Maya going behind the restaurant, perhaps to use the bathroom and Paritosh walked back to the car. Rupali pretended to be fiddling with her phone and acted startled when he opened the car door and slid into the driver’s seat.

“So you like Ghazals?” he asked, startling her for real. He had earlier not acknowledged her request to not change the CD. She thought he hadn’t paid heed. But obviously he had.

“Baba – I mean my father – was fond of them. He would play Ghazals every evening. I got used to them.”

“Ghazals remind you of him?”

She mumbled her assent.

“My taste is Ghazals is also inherited from my father. Perhaps that’s why they make me feel calm, comforted.”

She smiled on hearing that and nodded. He watched her in the rear-view mirror and knew that she understood. He ached for something. He didn’t quite know what.

—

To be continued

Rupali felt disconcerted for a moment when Paritosh opened the door for her the next morning instead of the maid who came to do the morning chores. But he gave her a relaxed smile and she smiled back at him.

“Are you feeling fine today?” he asked as he closed the door after her.

“Yes. Dr. Khanna. Please don’t worry about Meenal.”

“I wasn’t–” he stopped short, then changed the subject, “Her counsellor is going to be away for a month.”

“Oh! What happened?”

“Apparently she has fractured her leg in an accident. So she is on a bed-rest now.”

“That’s bad.”

“Meenu is comfortable with her. So I don’t want to look for someone else. I will wait for her to come back.”

She nodded.

She felt him eyeing her from time to time as he finished his breakfast and prepared to leave for the university. Finally, she had to ask, “Is something the matter, Sir? Do you want to say something to me?”

He shook his head hastily, then added, “Actually yes. I want to you think about this. Don’t answer me right away. I understand that you can’t and don’t want to come away for a vacation. But do you think you and your brothers could accompany us on a day trip to Lonavala? This Sunday. Maya and I would like to go–”

“I can stay with Meenal here, Sir.”

“I want her to go to. But that won’t be possible if you don’t come.”

Rupali fell silent.

“It’s not an obligation. Think about It and then feel free to say no. But check with your brothers. They may also enjoy an outing.”

She nodded slowly and turned away from him on the pretext of stopping Meenal from chewing her toy.

—

“What are you doing, Paritosh?” Maya stepped into his office to the sight of old papers piled up all over the table and floor.

“Looking for an old assignment submission.”

“How old is that exactly?” she curiously surveyed the innumerous piles he had made.

“Seven years, perhaps.”

She chuckled, “Why? Somebody is asking you to explain the grade you gave to an assignment seven-years ago?”

He laughed too, but continued to look.

At last he stood up patting the dust off a set of stapled hand-written papers. “This is it,” he smiled at her.

“Penny for your thought?”

“The first time I had seen Rupali, Ms. Banerjee I mean, in that supermarket, you remember? I had thought she looked familiar. But I couldn’t have imagined why. This assignment is the answer.”

Maya raised her eyebrows.

“This is hers. Rupali Banerjee. The name is right there. She was here, in this university. In my class.”

“I thought she didn’t go to college.”

“She didn’t graduate. Didn’t even finish a semester, I think. But she had started. And she had done this assignment.”

“Did she tell you?”

He shook his head.

“How did you figure out then? After all these days?”

“Yesterday I came to know that her parents died seven years ago. I figured that’s why she wouldn’t have gone to college. Or rather dropped out,” he waved the assignment at her.

“And you just remembered this seven-year old assignment out of blue.”

“I had always remembered this assignment. If you read it, you will know why. You don’t always see such originality and sincerity in seventeen-year-olds.”

Maya frowned, “And you are sure she is the one who was in your class?”

“Almost. But I will have to confirm with her.”

“This is strange, Paritosh, almost creepy. Are you going to tell her that you have been obsessing over her assignment for last seven years?”

“Oh, come on, Maya. Don’t be absurd.”

“You don’t be absurd. If she is indeed the same girl, she would freak out if you waved this assignment at her.”

He tossed the assignment on the table and the table and slumped into his chair.

Having made her point, Maya saw it fit to change the subject of the conversation, “Shall we go to Lonavala this Sunday?”

“I have asked Ms. Banerjee. If she comes along, or at least agrees to stay with Meenu, we will definitely go.”

“We can take Meenal, can’t we? She would come with you.”

He sighed. “You know very well, Maya, that I will have to give her my full attention in that case. We won’t get to spend time together, if Ms. Banerjee doesn’t come.”

Maya shrugged. “As you see fit.  I will leave now. I have a class to teach.”

He nodded absently.

—

Paritosh checked the baby monitor. His daughter was sleeping peacefully. But he was restless and sleep evaded him. He turned in his bed once again and picked up the assignment lying on the side table.

He remembered when he had read it for the first time. Those were the happy times of his life. He was going to get married to Amrit in a few weeks’ time. After a year of courtship. His parents were still alive. And he was prone to feeling happy and hopeful about life.

It should have been possible to forget a little assignment, even if it was unusually good, submitted by a student he hardly knew, and one who never came back to collect the grades, when life had so much to offer. But he had remembered it. And he had also remembered that the student who had submitted it never attended another class.

What were the odds that he should run into that one student at the supermarket, and then again at the psychiatric clinic, and that his autistic daughter should choose to trust that one person in the entire world? Was it creepy as Maya had suggested? Or was it inevitable destiny? What destiny though?

—

To be continued

When she woke up she realized that the doorbell must have been ringing for a while. The sound had become a part of the dream she was having. She couldn’t recall what it was though. She looked at the clock. It wasn’t yet time for her brothers to be back. Who could it be? She patted her hair and rubbed her sleepy eyes to prepare them for the awoken world, then went to the door and opened it.

“Mamma… Mamma…” Meenal rocked standing beside Paritosh. Rupali blinked her eyes a few times wondering if she was still dreaming.

“Did I wake you up… again?” Paritosh asked, looking contrite.

“No. It’s fine. It’s too late anyway.” But she was so astonished that she didn’t remember to invite them in.

After waiting for a moment, Paritosh had to ask, “Can we come in?”

“Oh! Yes. Sorry–” she stepped aside. As they walked in she nervously surveyed her surroundings and it did not assure her. The faded bedsheet was crumpled from her lying down. And as much as she tried to keep the house tidy, she had only so much time in hands. In the middle of the week it looked like someone had ransacked it. Twins’ clothes, books and other possessions were scattered all over. One corner of the floor was taken up by the dirty clothes that would be washed on Saturday. The condition of the house itself was shabby with the plaster falling down from some places and the paint stained at many others. She threw a quick glance at the tiny bathroom and was relieved the find it shut. She hoped he wouldn’t want to use the bathroom. He wouldn’t know how to turn around in that tiny space.

When she looked back at him after surveying the house, he had taken up the only chair that was there in the hall. And if he had noticed the state of the house, he didn’t show it.

“Would you like a cup of tea, Dr. Khanna?” she asked. She hadn’t had lunch and her stomach grumbled. She could do with a cup of tea herself.

He opened his mouth as if to say no, but closed it after taking a look at her. “That would be great,” he said finally. It felt like he had figured out that she needed tea. And also knew that if he refused, she wouldn’t have made it just for herself.

Meenal followed Rupali to the kitchen. Neither she, nor Paritosh objected.

“Thank you,” he said when she handed him an old, but clean steel cup. “And sorry,” he added immediately. Her breath caught in her throat. “How I behaved this morning is inexcusable–”

“It was my fault,” she interrupted hastily.

He shook his head and continued, “I took out my frustrations on you. That was uncalled for. When Meenal woke up, she brought me to my senses. She hasn’t stopped asking for you since.”

Rupali sat on the edge of the bed and stayed silent.

“Will you come back?” he asked.

She nodded, “Happily. And I promise you it won’t happen again. It was just today–”

“Were you unwell?”

“I hadn’t slept well. I will take care in future.”

“It can happen to anyone. I over-reacted. I’m sorry once again.”

“How did you know where I live?” she asked to change the subject.

“The clinic had sent me your details. It had the address. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have barged in. But I had behaved so outrageously, I wasn’t sure I could talk to you on phone.”

“It’s all right.”

“Also, I was hoping to talk to your parents and assure them that you job is a safe one. You stay with your parents, I assume. You aren’t married, right?”

She bit her lips. After getting her job back and his apologies, she had hoped that she would not have to tell him her sob story. But he would know now. She couldn’t produce her parents out of thin air.

“My parents are no longer – I mean – they are dead,” she said in one breath.

His face paled on hearing that. She saw him patting Meenal’s head instinctively.

“I live with my younger brothers,” she added.

“I… I’m sorry.”

“It has been a long time.”

“How long?”

“Seven years.”

“Seven years! How—How old are you?”

“Twenty-four.”

He gasped. She was seventeen then.

“How old are your brothers?”

“Twins. Fourteen-years old.”

“Fourteen!”

“They are ten-years younger than me.”

“They must have been really young when…”

She nodded.

“It has just been the three of you?”

She nodded.

He sighed and slumped back, “So it wasn’t because of your parents that you refused to come for the vacation. It was because of your brothers?”

“Partly.”

“What else? Were you scared? Perhaps I freaked you out by bringing it up suddenly.”

It was her turn to sigh. She rubbed her temple and then spoke, “Before you give me the job back, I must confess. I should have told you in the very beginning. But I was greedy, I guess. I have another job. A night shift. At a 24-hours pharmacy.”

“Another job?”

“I know that you would, perhaps, not like it. But I–”

“You are the only bread-winner in your family.”

She nodded.

He stood up, abruptly, “I will see you tomorrow at 8.30, then.”

She had her job back, after all. Relief washed over her. She could do without sleeping for years just then.

She bent down to talk to Meenal. “Meenu will go with Papa now. Okay? Mamma will come tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow. Mamma.”

“Yes. Tomorrow, sweetheart. Good night.”

“Tomorrow, sweetheart. Good night.”

Meenal had this eerie habit of repeating what someone said word by word. She even responded to Paritosh’ “Bye, Meenu” in the morning with “Bye, Meenu”, instead of addressing him as Papa. Over time, though, Rupali had gotten used to it. This was something autistic children were known to do.

Soumitra and Sugata came when Paritosh was at the door. Rupali introduced them.

“What was he doing here?” Sugata asked after Paritosh left.

“He had fired me from the job this morning. He had come to take me back.”

“Huh?” The brothers responded in chorus.

“Never mind,” she grinned at them, “You will have tea, right? And I am yet to have your khichdi. It tasted delicious though. I had a bite in the morning.” She hadn’t felt this light-hearted in a long time. Paritosh knew everything there was to know about her. He didn’t look dissatisfied. Perhaps her job, and her brothers’ futures, were secure for a while.

Her brothers didn’t spare her though. She had to tell them the story of the day. As she had expected, Sugata grew enraged that Paritosh should have scolded her so, while Soumitra became somber with the worry that she was over-exerting herself. She had to reassure them both.

—

To be continued

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

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 10^th. 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

“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

“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

“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