Mish' Fiction

“What a disgusting lie I had concocted. I have read the news of some rape or the other every day since then. I hear about their pain, helplessness, and I feel such loathing for myself. How could I have trivialized it like that? The shame of it all, Mukundo Babu! I had fallen in love with you. But you deserved better than me. I hated myself so much that I could not have imagined anybody loving me any longer. Much less you…”

“I blamed myself for trapping you. I thought how desperate you must have been to get rid of me that you resorted to lying. Even when Boudi told me that you weren’t married, I didn’t think it was for me. But I could not even for a moment hate you. I pined for you…”

She folded her legs up and buried her head in her knees. As she convulsed with sobs, he gently wrapped his hand around her. Gradually he pulled her in his arms, and she lay down hiding her tear-stained face in his chest.

“Do you… really love me?” he asked.

“Yes,” she spoke into his chest.

“Say it, Piyali, please.”

She looked up, “I love you, Mukundo Babu. I have loved you for as long as you have thought that I didn’t.”

He bent his head and pressed his lips against hers. She responded immediately and nibbled on his lower lips. He thrust his tongue inside his mouth practically taking her breath away for a few moments. When he finally withdrew, both their eyes were moist. “I will never let you go again,” he said, “Irrespective of what mischiefs you come up with. No chewing-gums around, I hope!”

She smiled and he planted another kiss on her forehead. They remained in each other arms for a while, when Sumedha stirred in sofa. Piyali sat up quickly and shot a glance at her. She had only turned in her sleep. She relaxed and smiled at Mukundo.

“There is just one more thing I want to know…” he said.

“Ask away!”

“Rohan – you called him a swine? Why? Did he… did he hurt you?”

“After meeting you and telling you the truth, I told him to not call me up again and blocked him. I knew that I had never loved him, never could love him. I had only been flattered by his perusal and had once again mistaken it for love. For a few days, I lived with the guilt of breaking the heart of two good men. But part of that guilt washed away, when I got a call from Sonali soon after. She had called to warn me to not speak to Rohan if he called or tried to meet me. He was on a run. He had been found with a minor girl in Haldia, not in an innocent situation obviously, and had to flee to avoid getting lynched or handed over to police. And all this when… he was already married. His wife lived with his parents in his native village.”

“Oh God!”

“So, I had not only misunderstood my feelings. I had also mistook lust for love, scheming for concern, and aggression for passion. He intended to hurt me. So – yes. A swine. But he could not. I always thought that it was your love that protected me.”

He hugged her once again and mumbled, “Thank God!”

Sumedha stirred again, and this time she woke up.

—

That evening Mukundo shifted to Piyali’s house.

“It will be much more convenient than me and Sumedha commuting between guest house and my place all the time. There are two rooms. I and Sumedha can sleep in one.  There will be no inconvenience at all,” Piyalis argued forcefully, even though Mukundo hadn’t resisted even once.

In another couple of days, he was well enough to take short walks around the campus.

“I like Darjeeling. The air is cleaner and it suits me better,” Mukundo remarked.

“I like it too. It has none of the bitter memories of Kolkata.”

“And Sumi, I think, doesn’t hate her school. Only staying in hostel.”

They smiled at each other. Mukundo added after a pause, “I think we could settle here instead of going back to Kolkata. I could get a job in one of the colleges here.”

“You will be over-qualified for any college here.”

“Piyali. I would be happy teaching in a school too. That’s not what I care about. I only care about yours and Sumi’s happiness now.”

“Your Baba and my Dadu would both be disappointed, if you didn’t join a prestigious university.”

“I have waited for much more than a year that my Baba wanted me to wait. He can’t dictate anything else to me now. And Your Dadu, I am sure, has better sense than that.”

“Baba!” Sumedha had caught up with them by then.

“Sumi. Won’t it be great if we settled down in Darjeeling? You won’t have to change your school.”

“But we must get a house outside the campus. Else I will feel like I am still in the hostel.”

Mukundo and Piyali laughed. Sumedha also grinned after them.

– The End –

“Come here,” she pulled her in her lap, “And let me tell you something else that is very important. Do you know why parents love their kids so much? Because they love each other. And in their children, they see their own love reflecting. So, even if I loved you only because of my love for your Baba, it would in no way be inferior.”

She started crying harder and hid her face in Piyali’s chest. Piyali embraced her and let her cry for a while. “I am annoyed at everyone,” she confessed when she came to herself.

“We’ll fix it, sweetie. We will. I am also responsible for it. And I will fix it, Promise.”

“Why? Why are you responsible? What had happened?”

“You are very mature, Sumedha. But you are still young. Someday I will tell you everything. But for now, just know that grown-ups are not immune to making mistakes. And they have their weaknesses too. I made a mistake. Your Baba was not strong enough to bring you up alone. Between our mistakes and weaknesses, we caused you a lot of pain. Still, try to believe me that both of us love you. And we are not bad people at heart.”

“Will you and Baba marry?”

“That is something you will have to ask your Baba. But I promise you that I will always be there by your side.”

“I want a home,” Sumedha snuggled up closer to her.

“Let’s pray that your Baba gets well soon.”

—

“We should move you to Kolkata,” Mrinmoyee declared when Piyali and Sumedha went to the guest house in the morning.

“Doctor has advised against traveling for at least a week,” Piyali objected demurely.

“What would the doctors here know?”

“She is right,” Mukundo intervened, “Besides Kolkata doesn’t have the freshest air in the world, does it? I know you can’t leave your daughter behind for long. You don’t worry about me, Mini. I am fine here.”

“Of course. Enjoying your honeymoon,” she muttered under her breath.

Piyali looked around anxiously to see if Sumedha had heard. But she was busy with a story-book that Piyali had got for her. Then she looked at Mukundo and they silently decided to ignore the taunt.

—

Sumedha had fallen asleep on the sofa after lunch.

Mukundo sat sprawled on the bed. Piyali went to him and sat at the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling?” she asked.

“Alive. You brought me back from dead, Piyali.”

“You have a habit of exaggerating where I am concerned.”

“I am not exaggerating even one bit. But let’s not fight over that. I don’t want to fight with you. Ever.”

“Does it mean that you have forgiven me, Mukundo Babu?”

“Why do you keep saying that? There is nothing to–”

“Oh Mukundo Babu! I will never be at peace, if you don’t–”

“I do. Whatever you mean by it, I do forgive you, Piyali.”

“Will you…” she paused and gulped hard before proceeding, “Will you still have me?”

“I’ve been an arrogant idiot till now, Piyali. I should have sought you out long back. I should have asked you again. And again, if you refused. If what you were back then had made me fall head over heels in love with you, what you are now makes me bow down to you with respect. But Piyali, the man before you is even older than he was. He is ill and you have seen for yourself how close to death he was. He is the one who had left you behind to deal with the world on your own, to deal with a loneliness you were too young to handle. He is the one you had fallen out of love with. Will you still have him?”

“I have my regrets, Mukundo Babu. I have my regrets for you. If things hadn’t gone that way, you wouldn’t have tortured yourself all these years. You wouldn’t have been ill. I have regrets for Sumedha. If things hadn’t gone that way, she would have had what she craves the most. A home!”

“Piyali. You can’t–”

“No. Don’t stop me. I haven’t spoken a word about it to anyone. You know this is a missionary school. There is a church. Time and again I thought of going to the confessional. But what good confessing to a priest who knew nothing about the people I had hurt, and getting forgiveness from an abstract God, would have done? The only confession that will work is before you. And the only forgiveness that matters is yours.”

“You have the forgiveness. But confess all you want, Piyali. Because I also need to know what has happened to you in this time.”

“I hate myself for the misery I brought upon you and Sumedha, and the shame I brought upon my family. But I don’t regret what happened to me. I had fancied myself to be in love with you. Then I had equally easily fancied myself to be in love with that swine…”

“Who was he?”

“Rohan – Sonali’s cousin.”

“Sonali? Who you were visiting in Haldia?”

She nodded.

“You met him in Haldia?”

She nodded again.

“Go on.”

“I was flattered by your attention. I thought of you as an old-fashioned gentleman and I thought I knew you, and was in love with you. But it wasn’t until you had cried over what you had thought was my misfortune, and had hugged and kissed me to comfort me when you believed I had been raped, that I really got to know you as a person. I was expecting the old-fashioned gentleman to cast me aside, but there you were… And that was when I madly, irrevocably fell in love. One I could never fall out of. But it was too late!”

“Piyali!” he wiped the tears that had betrayed her.

“If it had not happened, I would never have known what gem of a person I had fortune of knowing and being loved by… And the misfortune of realizing his worth only at the time of losing him…”

“If that was the case, why didn’t you talk to me, Piyali? You let me believe that you were in love with someone else.”

—

To be continued

“I thought I was dreaming,” he said when she came back to him after putting Sumedha to sleep.

She stood silent with downcast eyes.

“You teach here?”

She nodded.

“Since when?”

She looked away and he understood.

“All these years?”

“Yes,” she finally spoke.

“I came here every year.”

“I know.”

“I could never forget you, Piyali. Not even for a minute.”

“That’s why you started drinking?”

“You came here for my daughter?”

She fell silent again.

“Piyali! If only it could again be like what we had dreamed of…”

“Can’t you forgive me?” her voice quivered.

“Forgive you? Piyali. There is nothing to forgive. I have a lot to answer for. And I am dying…”

“No!” she jumped forward and pressed his hand. “Nothing is happening to you. You just have to stop drinking.”

“My life is a mess, Piyali. I am a failure. Still, right now, I am very happy. And so, even willing to believe you – a tiny bit.”

“Believe me, then. Believe me wholeheartedly. Give me one more chance.”

—

They hadn’t talked much for last two days except of the practical matters – his recovery and medicines, Sumedha’s stay arrangements at her house because the hostels were closed and the like. She cooked for him, because outside food wouldn’t have done in his condition.

They were both worried about Sumedha though. She had been acting strange. She wouldn’t talk unless asked a question, would eat only when asked to, and keep herself locked in her room at Piyali’s house most of the time. She came to see Mukundo only when Piyali dragged her. “What’s the matter, sweetie? Why don’t you talk to me?” she asked repeatedly. “Nothing Miss. I am fine,” she would dismiss her each time.

Piyali was dusting Mukundo’s room in the guesthouse that afternoon, when Mrinmoyee called him. “She is reaching here tomorrow evening. Can you check if the guesthouse can give us another room?” he told her. Piyali’s breath caught in her throat. He had been generous with her. He hadn’t shamed her, because he was… well he was Mukundo Babu! But how would she face his sister? Or anybody else in his family and hers for that matter?

He appeared unaware of her dilemma though. “Something wrong?”

“No. Nothing,” she decided not to bother him, “I will go ask at the reception. I don’t think there should be a problem. Nobody is there in the campus any longer.”

—

Piyali managed to get away from the guest house before Mrinmoyee reached. But avoiding her forever was not possible. Piyali had to take Mukundo’s dinner to his room. When she reached there, she saw a lock on Mrinmoyee’s room. It meant she was still in her brother’s room. Sumedha was also with them. Piyali lingered around for about half-an-hour hoping that Sumedha would come out, or Mrinmoyee would go to her room. But neither happened and it was getting late for his food and medicine. Reluctantly she drew in a deep breath and knocked on the door. To her relief Sumedha opened it.

“Food for Mukundo Babu. You can take your Pishima to guesthouse restaurant, right?”

“Okay.”

“Thanks. I will leave now.”

“Won’t you see Baba?”

“I will come later, Sumedha.”

“Who is it, Sumi?” Mukundo called out just then.

“Miss Banerjee, Baba,” Sumedha replied before Piyali could think of a way of stopping her.

Curious about the visitor, even Mrinmoyee came to the door and now there was no hiding for Piyali.

“Come in, Miss,” Sumedha said politely unaware of the tension that had just filled the doorway.

To avoid creating a scene right away, Piyali walked in silently. She looked at Mukundo and it was clear that he had also woken up to the crisis.

“And what exactly are you doing here, Miss Banerjee? Was once not enough? Do you want to kill off my brother…”

“Pishima!” To everyone’s surprise, Sumedha interceded before either Mukundo or Piyali could say anything, “You can’t talk to her like that.”

“And why not, little Missy? Do you know who she is and what she has done?”

“I know. When both you and Baba had abandoned me to this boarding school, she was the one who took me in and who looked after me. You can’t insult her.”

“Sumi. You go with Piyali. I have to talk to Pishima,” Mukundo ordered.

Piyali immediate made to leave dragging a seething Sumedha behind her. But she remembered something at the door.

“Your medicines,” she turned and addressed Mukundo, “They are in the drawer.”

“Thank you, Piyali.”

—

“You know Sumedha, you are not like a typical ten-year old. You are far too mature for your age. It shows when you talk. Unfortunately, it also shows when you talk disrespectfully. To the grownups. One day your Baba, the other day your Pishima. What has come upon you?” Piyali asked Sumedha once they were back at her house.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? It’s not nothing, I can see that. You are cross with me. I don’t quite know why, but you are. And still you fight with your Pishima for my sake. What is going on?”

“I fought with Pishima because what I said was true. You took care of me. But nobody loves me!” Sumedha burst out, “Nobody loves me for my sake. Pishima got married and left me behind. Baba dumped me here and went to US. All these years, I thought I was special to you and that’s why you cared for me so much. But you too…”

“What about me?”

“You cared for me only because of Baba. You love him, not me.”

Piyali was stunned. Should she pity the child’s isolation and misery, or should she marvel at the complexity of her emotions at such a young age? She slumped on a chair and beckoned Sumedha to her side.

“Sumedha. It is true that I came here because I felt guilty towards him. But ever since I met you, it has been all about you and me. I haven’t met your Baba in these five years. Not even once. I had no hope of ever seeing him again. If I didn’t love you for yourself, you could not have felt it for so long. No, sweetie. It doesn’t work like that. Nobody can fake it. Much less before someone as intelligent as you.”

Sumedha started crying silently.

—

To be continued

Another year later…

“Miss!”

“Sumedha, what happened?”

“My Baba is here.”

“Why are you crying?” he came every year to pick her up for summer vacation.

“He is ill, Miss. Very ill.”

“Where is he?”

“In the guest house. Unconscious.”

“What? Oh God! Doctor… did you…”

“They called the doctor. I am so worried… What will happen to him?”

“Come with me. Stop crying, nothing will happen.”

In these five years, she had prayed every single day for his well-being. From the fragments of Sumedha’s report of summer vacations, she had suspected that he was not in the best of his health. But she hadn’t imagined it to be this bad.

“Drinking! He cannot afford another drop of alcohol,” the doctor told Piyali as she took charge of the situation at the guesthouse, “His liver will give way!”

She gasped in horror. Mukundo Babu! Uncontrolled drinking? She looked around to ensure that Sumedha had not heard it; then escorted the doctor outside.

—

“Take the key, Sumedha, go to my house and stay there. I had cooked lunch; help yourself to it. And don’t worry about your Baba. Just let him rest for a while, and then he would fine. Okay? Can you do this for me, Sumedha?”

After reassuring Sumedha and sending her away, she shut the door to the room without locking it and sat on a chair beside his bed. She took his hand in hers, closed her eyes and started chanting all mantras from Durga Shaptashati that her mother had made her memorize as a child. In between, when she could not contain herself, she prayed to the Goddess in her own simple words. “Spare him, Ma, spare him. He is not guilty. I am. How will I ever face Sumedha should something happen to him? Take my life, Ma, and spare him!”

She did not realize that he had gained consciousness, until he spoke. “You came?” Her heart stopped. That voice, after so many years! Weak, but unmistakably his. She opened her eyes slowly, as if afraid that it was a dream that will break if she hurried through anything.

“I’m very happy to see you,” he spoke again, smiling, with an effort.

“What have you done to yourself? Oh God! I am sorry. I am sorry, Mukudo Babu.”

“Sorry? For what?”

“For everything. For everything I did. I am so ashamed of even apologizing…”

“But I love you. More than ever.”

She broke down completely and started sobbing, burying her face in her hands.

“What is going on?” The door was pushed opened suddenly and Sumedha barged in, panting. “Why are you crying, Miss?” She looked at her father and burst out. “What did you tell her to make her cry? What did you do to her?”

“Sumi…” Mukundo was baffled. He was only half-awake and had imagined it all to be dream. Only now did he become aware that Piyali was indeed there. In the guesthouse of his daughter’s school. He tried to sit up, but was stopped by Piyali. Her face was tear-stained, but startled by Sumedha’s entry, she had stopped crying.

“I was too young. I came here silently, when you gave up on me – yet again. I had believed that since I was motherless, there was no other option. But that innocent delusion could not last long, could it? I still had my father. He could still have given me a home. But no! He chose not to. Four weeks in a year – that was all he had for me. Four bloody weeks. All through this, who was one person who made me feel wanted? Who was one person who loved me, welcomed me at any hour, nursed me through sickness, helped me with studies, treated me when I won prizes, and gave me shoulder to cry on? It was her, Baba. For my sake, she came here to look after you. And this is what you have for her too? Tears? What did you do to make her cry?”

Piyali had collected herself by then. “Enough Sumedha. You are out of your mind. Is this the way to talk to your Baba?”

“Oh! You are on his side now, are you?”

Piyali was tongue-tied yet again. She had never seen Sumedha like this. If she had always had so much bitterness against her father, she never showed it. Disappointment? Yes. But such vitriolic anger?

“Sumedha. It is nothing like what you have made it out to be. Give us some time. We will explain everything. He did not make me cry. Take my words for it.”

“Why were you crying then?” The child grew embarrassed on realizing that her outburst might have been uncalled for. And that the bitterness she had kept hidden till then was out in the open.

“I will explain. At a suitable time. Now apologize to your Baba. I can’t believe you could say such horrid…”

“No Piyali,” Mukundo still did not understand Piyali’s presence there, but he was more collected than earlier, “She does not need to apologize. She might be wrong about you. But she wasn’t wrong about herself or me. I have failed her. She has every right to be bitter.”

A child’s grudge against her parents, howsoever strongly held, is not like an adult grudge that overshadows all other emotions. Despite her dissatisfaction, despite his failings and absence, her father was the ultimate safe-haven for her. Thinking that she might have alienated him for life, she broke down.

“And now you hate me. You won’t come for me ever again.”

“What has gotten to you, Sumi,” he made to get out of bed, but Sumedha stopped him even before Piyali could. “No! You are not well. Stay in bed.”

“Come here, then.”

He pulled his daughter in his embrace and murmured, “I am sorry. I know how inadequate I have been. You have every right to hate me. But even in my dreams I cannot hate my daughter.”

“Have you eaten?” Piyali asked her gently.

She nodded.

“Do you want to lie down?”

“I will,” she went to the sofa lying in the other corner of the room. Piyali went with her and caressed her head until she fell asleep. Mukundo watched on. It felt like a dream.

—

To be continued

Piyali was teaching senior classes. It was a good thing, because if she reached out to Sumedha and took interest in her, it won’t amount to her favoring a student. But that also made it difficult for her to make contact with the child. Finally she found an opportunity. Sumedha had gotten the gift of soulful voice from her father and her talent was apparent even at that young an age. She had been picked up for an upcoming music program in the school. Piyali pretended interest in the program, which wasn’t completely false, and went for the practice sessions.

Sumedha was painfully shy in the beginning, and also very fearful and dejected of the boarding life, but Piyali knew her way around the kids. She got her to open up slowly. But their relationship was sealed when Sumedha fell ill soon after the programme.

“I prefer to send children to their parents when they are so ill,” the warden confided in Piyali when she visited her in the sick room, “They are better cared for, and the risk of infecting other kids is not there. But her father lives in the US.”

“Is it okay, if I took her to my house?”

“Do you know her? You seem to take quite an interest in her.”

Piyali sighed and then replied cryptically, “She reminds me of someone I have lost.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s silly really, but…”

“I don’t think so. I will ask the principal. If he is okay with it…”

—

The principal didn’t mind and Piyali brought the half-unconscious child to her two-room house in teachers’ quarter. She applied for all the casual leaves she had accumulated. For the first two days, fever would not relent. Piyali barely even blinked and spent all the time by the sick bed, taking her temperature, giving her cold strips, feeding her liquid and semi-solid food according to the doctor’s advice, cleaning up if she soiled the bed and praying for her health.

Finally on the third day, Sumedha opened her eyes. “Pishima,” she mumbled, still unaware of her surroundings. Piyali felt a lump in her throat and controlled her tears with some effort.

“It’s me, Sumedha. Miss Banerjee. Are you feeling better?”

“I am thirsty.”

“Not a problem… Let me help you sit up… There… Good girl… Here you go… Water….”

Hardly had she had her fill of water, when she threw up.

“Oh God! Relax, relax, sweetie,” she rubbed the child’s back to help her. Partly from the exhaustion of vomiting and partly from the guilt of soiling the bed, Sumedha started crying.

“It’s over, it’s over Sumedha. You will feel much better now. Stop crying,” Piyali comforted her as she cleaned her up. Then she took her to the other room, lay her down on the clean bed and cuddled her.

“You are not angry?”

“What for?”

“I spoiled the bed.”

“You are ill, Sumedha. What could you have done? Don’t be silly. Just give me ten minutes. I will bring you something to eat.”

“I don’t want to eat.”

“But you must. Otherwise you will not recover.”

“I will throw up again.”

“Then I will clean it up again. It’s not your problem, sweetie.”

—

Two years later…

“You used to stay in Kolkata, Miss?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Did you know my mother?”

“No, Sumedha. Why do you ask?”

“Just like that. Would she have been like you if she had lived?”

“A thousand times better than me,” she turned away on some pretext to wipe her tears.

—

Another two years later…

“Mukundo, she is still not married. I know that for sure,”

“Who Boudi?”

“Piyali. Who else?”

“Why are you telling me that?”

“Come on, Mukundo. You know very well…”

“Who told you about it? It was not supposed to be known…”

Maitrayee sighed.

“Baba?”

She nodded.

“Hmm! He wouldn’t want to let an opportunity to insult a woman pass, would he? Did he taunt you for how your niece behaved?”

“Let it go, Mukundo. He is the elder of the family. I don’t take to heart anything he says.”

“Then why are you telling me about her?”

“Nobody knows what it was. But she was young, Mukundo. If she did make a mistake…”

“What do you want, Boudi?”

“Talk to her once?”

“Is she in Kolkata?”

“No.”

“Where then?”

“I don’t know. She doesn’t want anyone to know. And Kaku worries about her, but respects her wish.”

“So let her be, Boudi. She won’t lack suitors. She has everything going for her.”

“And you? What do you have going for you except drinking?”

“Precisely why I shouldn’t talk to her.”

—

“How was your vacation, Sumedha?”

“One month is still left, isn’t it? But as usual, Baba could not stay away from his job for more than four weeks.”

“You go to your Kaku’s place, right?” She remembered Maitrayee’s and Shroban’s cozy, little home. One she would never go back to!

“Yes. Also visited my Pishima for a week. But Kaki insists on Baba staying with them. She wanted me to stay on, even after Baba had left. But Baba wouldn’t agree.”

“Well. Good you came back. Else I would have been bored.”

“Why do you always come back early, Miss?”

“I never go, Sumedha. Kolkata is bad in summers, isn’t it? My family comes here to meet me.”

“Are they still here? Should I go back to the hostel?”

“No. Your room is ready. They have already left.”

—

To be continued

Back in his hotel room, Mukundo cried bitterly. He sobbed like a child. He was angry. He threw stuff around, broke some. In a matter of few weeks, everything had been given to him; and everything had been taken away. Why? It was unfair! It was not right. Why should it happen to him? In one way or the other? Again and again?

But as the evening settled down, so did he. Well – it was his fault. What was he thinking proposing to a girl half his age? Then hardly spending any time with her and leaving her behind with nothing to look forward to? Of course, she was dissatisfied. What did she lack? Beauty, intelligence, charm? Nothing. Why should she not go for the best suitor? Only if she hadn’t done it like this… But that only shows how trapped she must have felt. He had been unfair to her. Very unfair. He deserved his pain. And yet – it was excruciating, intolerable. He needed to do something about it.

He reached out for the mini-bar.

—

After the evening spent in crying and lamenting, she collected herself together. An idea had crossed her mind and she decided to look up the possibilities on the Internet.

She did not know how the news would be broken to the family. Would Mukundo call her grand-father or would she be expected to tell him on her own? But she was prepared to face it. There was no looking away from what she had done.

It happened right after she had her final conversation with Rohan and told him to never call her again.

“Pihu!” Mr. Banerjee was incredulous, “What is this? What is it that Mukundo has written?”

Piyali saw the stamp on the envelop. It was posted from US. He must have taken the very next flight back and would have written as soon as he reached there.

“What has he written, Dadu?”

He quietly handed her the letter. It was neat, handwritten letter, in crisp, accurate Bengali.

Respected Banerjee Babu,

 

I hope this letter finds you in best of health. I am afraid that what I am going to tell you would come as a surprise, probably an unpleasant one, to you. But I sincerely request you to not be angry or disheartened by it.

 

Piyali and I have mutually decided to end our relationship. It wasn’t to be, and I am happy that we hadn’t gone through the engagement. I beg you to not be cross with her about it and bless her in her choice of life-partner. She is a wonderful and intelligent girl.

Her hand shook as she read that, but she willed it to be steady and continued reading.

I am sure, she would do very well.

 

I am making good progress with my research work here and hope to start writing my thesis in next few months.

 

Convey my regards to everyone in the family.

 

Yours

Mukundo

She handed the letter back to her grand-father and nodded. “So it is, Dadu.”

“Why? What went so wrong? And what does he mean by… Is there someone else in your life, Pihu?”

“No Dadu. Don’t ask me what I can’t tell you. Just know that it was all my doing.”

“You couldn’t have done something that can’t be forgotten and forgiven, Pihu. Tell me what it was. I will speak to Mukundo. I am sure –”

“Dadu! Ever since Baba died, you have devoted yourself to my upbringing. You have always made my life easier, my way smoother by fighting my battles, by compensating for my shortcomings. But Dadu, I am no longer a child. I have to accept consequences of my actions. The fact is, Dadu, that he is too good for me. He deserves better than me. I beg you, Dadu, not to say a word to him. And if possible – to forgive me.”

Mr. Banerjee sighed and rubbed his eyes, suddenly feeling very tired.

“Dadu–”

“No. You are right. You are a grown woman now. I shouldn’t… I can’t…”

“Dadu please,” her eyes filled up despite her best attempts to stay calm, “I’m sorry. I am really sorry. You are in this awkward situation with Mukundo Babu because of me… I make you feel ashamed, don’t I? Dadu–”

“Pihu. I can never be ashamed of you, my child. Everyone makes mistakes. Everyone gets their chance to make mistakes. But if you can correct it, or ask for forgiveness…”

“I can’t correct it, Dadu. May be someday I would have done something to deserve forgiveness. But that time is not now.”

“I trust you. And Pihu – don’t worry about me and Mukundo. I am really fond of him, but if I have to choose between you and him, it’d always be you. I hope you have never been uncertain about it.”

“I am a very lucky girl, Dadu. And I have been very stupid.”

“You are young, my child. You have the right to be stupid once in a while.”

“Dadu. There is something else…”

“What?”

“I don’t want to work in Kolkata, Dadu. I… I need to…”

“Get away?”

She nodded.

“Have you already planned something?”

“There is a school in Darjeeling…”

“So far?”

“It’s a boarding school, Dadu. And they have teachers’ accommodation in the campus. It is safe and convenient.”

“Okay. If that’s what makes you happy…”

“Ma won’t like the idea…”

“Leave that to me… By the way, do you realize something, Pihu?”

“What?”

“This is the first time we have had such an honest, long, grown-up conversation.”

“I hadn’t grown up until now.”

—

To be continued

While she looked at all the outward signs that Mukundo’s commitment to the relationship was really not great, she forgot to look within her. She didn’t realize that the weakness was in her own feelings and not Mukundo’s. She had been fascinated by him, an older, accomplished man. Him noticing her satisfied her vanity, made her proud. And she fancied herself to be in love with him. But in reality she didn’t know him enough as a person. She didn’t know the good and the bad about him. She didn’t appreciate his strength in not binding her, while himself being committed to her. She didn’t understand his weakness in running away from caring for his daughter. She just didn’t know enough about him to fall in love with him.

Now that he was away, her own weaknesses were reflecting in her assessment of his love for her.

“Piyali! How have you been?”

“Rohan! Where are you calling from?”

“Kolkata.”

“What?”

“I had promised you, I’d come for you. Where shall we meet?”

“Rohan – you don’t understand. I can’t meet you… Not like this.”

“Why not?”

“Rohan. I am enga…. committed.”

“I’d respect that if you tell me that you don’t care for my feelings.”

“Rohan!”

“You feel it yourself, don’t you?”

Finally, she had asked him for a week’s time before she could answer.

—

He had insisted on no engagement. He had even forbidden her from talking about their relationship. Because he wanted to keep her free. So, why shouldn’t she act free. Yes – she would just tell him that she… But wait! What would she tell him? She wasn’t the reason it wasn’t working out. He was. But he would protest if she claimed that he did not lover her. How would she counter him?

It wasn’t all that simple. Seized by an inflated sense of entitlement she couldn’t bring herself to take responsibility for breaking the relationship. It had to be about him.

But how?

—

Piyali sobbed in her pillow to muffle the sound. But it was the inaudible cry of his heart that was deafening her. What had she done? What had possessed her? How had she managed to behave so shamefully? And how could she break the heart of a man like him?

But the irreversible damage was done. She had told him that horrific tale.

The damned idea had come to her from watching an old movie, where the heroine was raped and was then not considered good enough to get married to the hero.

He was an old-fashioned man, she had thought. And had told him that she had been raped. Unlike the disgust she had imagined, which would lead him to break up the relationship, he had been shocked and worried. He had shown nothing but concern for her well-being.

“Don’t worry, Piyali. You don’t worry at all. I am coming there and it will be all right…”

“No!” she had cried. If he came there and everybody got to know…. How would she ever deal with her lie? “Mukundo Babu. I haven’t told anyone. I don’t want to… Please understand…” she had started crying for her own reasons, but he had thought it was the trauma and fear of other people’s reaction.

“Don’t cry… Please Piyali. Don’t cry. You don’t want anyone knowing. No one would know. Okay?”

He had still taken the next available flight and had called her at once after landing.

“I am not going home. I am at this hotel – Casa Fortuna. I am texting you the address. Just come here.”

When she had reached the hotel, he had hugged her so tight that she had been unable to breathe. To her utter humiliation, he had then covered her face with his kisses, and tears. All the passion she had thought was missing had come pouring out of him! And all this right there in the lobby. For anyone to see. He didn’t care!

“Thank God, you are safe. Piyali! I would never be able to forgive myself for leaving you behind… ” he had said making no attempts at hiding his distress and tears.

Words had refused to leave her throat and her mouth had gone too dry to even make any meaningless sound.

“But how preoccupied with my own misery I am,” he had chuckled in embarrassment, “What should we do… yes… Have you seen a doctor since… Have you eaten…”

Her stomach churned. She had indeed not eaten anything since making that call to him and receiving his unexpected reaction.

Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she finally stole a fragment of her voice.

“Mukundo Babu…. I… I am sorry…”

“Sorry? For what? It’s not your…”

“I don’t deserve all this. I don’t deserve this care, this concern. I don’t deserve you, Mukundo Babu…”

“Don’t be nonsensical, Piyali. You can’t possibly think that because of this… this accident I would…”

“No. Mukundo Babu. Please let me complete. My shame is too big to let me speak. But it would be even bigger, if I don’t speak the truth now. Yes – you wouldn’t reject someone you love just because she has been raped. But you would if she lied about it…”

“What do you mean?” His grip slackened; she freed herself completely from it and stepped away from him.

“I had lied, Mukundo Babu.” She knew she could never look in his eyes after this. And she would never ever be loved like that again. Not by him, because she had just strangled his love for her with her own hands. Not by anyone else, because no one else was capable of loving her like him. Her life was finished. And the worst part was that she had destroyed his too in the process. She deserved her life-long pain.

“Lied? Why?”

She stood silent with her head literally hanging in shame.

“Why?” he asked again, more agitated now.

“Why Piyali?” it was as close to shouting as he could get.

“I… I thought,” she scrambled for words, “I thought you wouldn’t want me after this…”

“You wanted to end this relationship? You… you love someone else?”

No! She wanted to cry out – I love nobody other than you. Not any longer. But it was too late. She had been given on a plate the best the life had to offer. She had squandered it away. And now she had no claims on it. Not only that, she had no right to even tell that to him. She had no right not to be humiliated by him. That was the least he should be doing to her.

“You were always free, you know!”

Should she fall on her knees? Should she beg for forgiveness? Should she offer herself as a life-long servant to him? To make-up for this sin?

But she did nothing. She stood still, head hung so low that he could not see her tears.

“Leave Piyali. Just leave.”

She saw his boots as he turned on his heels. He was unsteady as he walked back to his room. Where was his long, confident stride? She had destroyed that too!

And now there was nothing left. She might as well end her life.

“Pihu. Shona. Are you unwell? Why are you locked up in your room?” her grand-father knocked on her door.

“I didn’t sleep well last night, Dadu. Just let me sleep.” What was a little more lie to her now? She was a veteran of lying, a veteran of destroying all that was good, tender and lovely in life. There was nothing that she could not ruthlessly destroy from now on.

—

To be continued