Mish' Fiction

“It’s so nice to meet you finally, Dr. Khanna,” Mouli welcomed him warmly, “I have been hearing about you since Rupa was a student.”

“Really?” he was genuinely surprised.

“Yes. I was expecting to meet you during her convocation. But you had left by then. Looks like I had to come at death’s door to finally meet you.”

She was weak physically, but her mental faculty were all alert. Her sense of humour had not disappeared either. But Paritosh looked at Rupali’s pale face at the mention of the death and he could not enjoy the dark humour.

“Please don’t talk like that Mrs. Banerjee. It worries Rupali.”

She looked at her daughter sadly and then nodded.

“I’ll get some tea,” Rupali said feeling strangely uncomfortable and went out of the room.

“Dr. Khanna…”

“Please call me Paritosh.”

Mouli smiled, “All right. Paritosh. You were with her through all this. Only you can tell me. Was she too worried?”

Worried was too mild a word for Rupali’s condition through the ordeal. But it would do no good to reveal that to her sick mother.

“Of course, she was worried Mrs. Banerjee. But she is strong.” Did he sound convincing enough?

Apparently no. Because Mouli smiled patronizingly at that reply, “You don’t want to worry me, it seems. Noble intentions. I wish she hadn’t come back from US. I hate to see her going through this. I didn’t want her to see me so weak.”

“And that would have been very unfair to her. Do you realize what kind of guilt she would have lived with?”

Mouli frowned as if trying to think hard over what he said. “Never thought of it that way. I guess you are right.”

“I am,” Paritosh smiled genially, “And now you should stop worrying. That would be of no help to your health or Rupali’s mental peace.”

“I am glad she has a friend in you,” Mouli said sincerely.

Rupali came back with tea and snacks just then. Her hands trembled for a second as he offered tea to Paritosh. The tea didn’t spill, but Mouli noticed the trembling and looked thoughtful.

“I know I am sounding like an old mother,” she told Rupali later that evening after Paritosh had left, “But I really worry about you, Rupa. You’d be alone after me.”

“Don’t talk about ‘after you’ Ma. Your surgery has been successful.”

“I have gotten a fresh lease of life, no doubt. But it isn’t a long lease sweetie. You know that I don’t like prodding you for information. But let’s say that I am getting desperate. Do you have no one in your life?”

“No Ma. No one. Now stop talking, have your food and medicines and go to bed.”

“You could meet some people. Your Kaku has been…”

“No Ma. Don’t let Kaku get to you, or me, please. I am not interested in meeting anyone. Let me get your food.”

Mouli thought of a trembling hand from that evening. And that trembling voice on the day of her convocation. “You can’t meet Dr. Khanna, Ma. He has apparently left the institute and gone to someplace in Delhi.”

—

Rupali also thought of the past, but of a day about a month before the convocation. She had given the final presentation for her project and it had gone well as expected. “Well done, Rupali,” he had smiled when a beaming Rupali had gone to his office that evening. “I would be surprised, if you didn’t get the best project award.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“So all set for the next phase of your life? End semester exams would hardly be a worry for you. How many admits and scholarship offers do you have in hand? Four?”

“Five,” she had blushed.

“Where are you going finally?”

“Stanford, as you had suggested.”

“That’s great. There isn’t a better place to be in for a Computer Scientist. All the great work is happening in Bay area these days. You would do very well.”

“Thank you, Sir. And a special thanks for your recommendations. It wouldn’t have happened without that.”

“A well-deserved one. I think today is the day to celebrate. Are you free in the evening?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Let’s go for a dinner. Any place you want.”

She had been pleasantly surprised. Awe was the word. Oh yes! Of course. A dinner with him. A memory she’d cherish for life.

“That’s awesome!” Her eyes had shone.

—

Rupali in a salwaar-kameez was a rare sight, and Paritosh could recall every detail of her appearance even today. It was simple, cream dress with red borders and dupatta. But it made her look so feminine, and grown up that Paritosh’ heart had skipped a beat. He had stolen a few extra glances at her during the drive to the restaurant. He had offered to take her to a restaurant in a five-star hotel and had dressed up in a black suit to look right for the venue. He was driving a BMW. He was unaware of the extra glances that Rupali had stolen too.

“We have some good cocktails, Sir,” the waiter had encouraged him to order some alcohol.

“No. Thanks. Not today,” he had politely refused.

“Why not? I am not a minor,” she had objected.

He had chuckled at her logic, “So, do you drink?” He didn’t associate drinking with this geeky, upright girl.

“No. But so what! You do drink, right?”

“I am omnivorous, I had told you. I drink. But I am not an addict or anything. I am not going to drink with you, Rupali. And anyway, I have to drive.”

“I can drive you back.”

“You know how to drive?”

“Of course. I often drive my uncle’s car.”

“That’s great. But no drinking.”

“No. You must order something. I insist. It is on me.”

He was extremely amused, “Why are you so insistent?”

“I… don’t know,” she had spoken awkwardly. It made no sense. Probably she just wanted to feel some power over him.

She had looked dejected and Paritosh had decided to indulge her. “Fine then,” he had called the waiter and ordered a Mojito.

“I will miss this place, Dr. Khanna. And people. And friends,” she had said emotionally during their meal.

“We all do. But life moves on. All of it will soon become a distant memory.”

“I will come back after Ph. D.”

“Will you? We’ll see,” he had smiled patronizingly.

“You don’t believe me?”

“I don’t believe the time. It can do strange things to people. It can change them completely.”

“Hmm…” she had looked thoughtful.

“Not necessarily in a bad way,” he had philosophized further, “It makes you more mature, stronger, wiser. It can give you scars. But it can also make you a better person.”

She had smiled.

“I am boring you,” Paritosh had been slightly embarrassed.

“Not at all. What makes you think so?”

“You are unusually quiet.”

“I’m sure I will grow mature, stronger and wiser someday and then all this will be a distant memory. But today I am just sad and nostalgic.”

“How do we cheer you up?”

She had chuckled in embarrassment, “Now I am spoiling your evening. I think we should just enjoy this great food. The chicken is particularly tasty.”

“I thoughts Bengalis were more into fish.”

“Ah! Fish is like… potatoes. You have it at home everyday. Chicken is the real stuff,” she had grinned drawing an indulgent smile from him. “Can I ask you something personal, Dr. Khanna?” She had asked suddenly after a pause.

He had frowned for a moment, but had agreed, “Shoot.”

“You had told me that you have taken care of financial needs of your wife by investing her dowry suitably.”

“Right. So?”

“Why did you never get married again? There could be nothing objectionable about it.”

His face coloured slightly.  He looked away for a moment before looking at her again. She bit her lips. Had she overstepped her limits?

“I don’t know,” he finally said.

She nodded and did not counter-question him. They were towards the end of their meal and finished it in silence. He insisted that she ordered a dessert as well and she complied. But there was a knot in her stomach by then. She could hardly enjoy the dessert, although it was quite delicious.

Both of them made a couple of attempts at resuming conversation during the drive back. But those attempts fell flat. Rupali chided herself for asking that question. What was she thinking?

“Where should I drop you? Hostel or department?” he asked as they entered the institute’s gate.

“Department. My bag is in the lab.”

She walked around to go to him after he had parked the car and they both had gotten out of it. “Thanks for the wonderful treat,” she smiled.

“Thanks for the wonderful company,” he had replied in a tone that was not formal. Rather… What was it? Emotional. Extremely emotional. “And Rupali. I am going to miss all of this too. A lot.” She had shivered as he had come closer to her, quite unconsciously. He had cupped her face with trembling hands and leaned in. She had closed her eyes and prepared herself for the kiss, when they heard some noise in the otherwise empty parking lot. He had immediately stepped back to her utter disappointment and mumbled, “What was I doing? Go Rupali.”

She had stood frozen for a moment and he had hissed again, “Go.” She had obeyed him and while walking out had seen someone parking a two-wheeler in the parking lot. It was someone she knew. He had greeted her. But she hadn’t bothered to even see who it was. She had greeted him back mechanically and walked into the lab in a daze. Happy and confused at the same time. Happy that he reciprocated his feelings. Confused at his reaction. She was wondering how to resolve it. Should she go to his office right away? And then do what? Proclaim her love? Too cheesy? Ask him about what happened, or just did not happen in the parking lot? Too audacious? She was still struggling with all the possibilities, when Padma had walked up to her, “Congrats Rupali. You won the bet.”

“What bet?” she had been surprised.

—

To be continued

The stubborn, stupid, foolish hope! You keep telling yourself that you are not hoping. But it creeps up on you, silently. It finds a cozy, comfortable home in your heart. Your mind doesn’t notice. Or decides not to notice. It is arrogant. It thinks that it can ignore the powers of hope. That it can keep it at bay. That even if some hope sneaks into your heart, it would know how to evict it. And the hope stays there. Hidden from the arrogant mind; at least not acknowledged by it. Then one day the hope, whose existence you never acknowledged, gets crushed. And it doesn’t suffer alone. With it gets crushed a part of your heart. And your mind cannot cut off the signals of pain. It can repent ignoring it all this while. But it is too late. You must suffer the pain.

Rupali suffered it that entire night. She thought she didn’t expect anything from Paritosh. That if he forgave her, that’d be more than what she wanted. How wrong was she! The hope had crept up. With his every little act of kindness, every small help, every smile and laughter, with every easy conversation…  The hope had made a small home in her heart. And it was now crushed. Crushing her heart with itself. She was in pain. He thought it was all wrong. But that wrong thing had been her lifeline.

And amidst all this, she didn’t even have her mother’s shoulders to lean on. She didn’t always discuss her problems with her mother. But she always found courage, support and peace in her presence. There was a silent understanding between them. Her mother understood it when she was in pain. She didn’t prod to know what it was, unless she was herself willing to share. But she managed to pass on a part of her quiet strength to her. The strength with which she had brought up her daughter alone. The strength with which she had kept working even after being diagnosed with critical heart problems. The strength with which she had not minded sending her only daughter away from home, and then from the country, because it was best for her career and life. “Don’t worry about me,” she had kept saying even when her illness had become really bad, “You live your life to the fullest sweetie. Your happiness is what I had promised your father on his death-bed.”

It was a wretched day. It seemed like the only way to take her mind off from one painful thought was to entertain another painful one. Ma and Dr. Khanna. Two people who were the source of all her hopes, and hopelessness. She couldn’t demand anything from Dr. Khanna. But Ma! She should come back for her.

—

She wasn’t back in the morning. Paritosh saw the notice announcing cancellation of her class that day. It was put up by Meher. What had happened? But he himself had to take a class at that time. So, he could talk to Meher only after an hour.

“Why was Dr. Banerjee’s class cancelled, Meher?”

“Her mother is ill and she had to be operated upon.”

“Operated?” They had said they’d keep her under observation for forty-eight hours. Did something go wrong?

“Yeah. She called this morning. She was very disturbed, obviously. I am thinking of going in the evening.”

“Meher. Can you please coordinate with director’s office and cancel my meeting with him today. Tell them that something urgent came up.”

“Sure Dr. Khanna.”

—

Rupali was sitting on a bench in the lobby. Sitting was hardly the right word. She was barely supporting herself with the edge of the seat. Her hands were pressed between her thighs as if they were cold and needed some warmth. As he went neared he realized that she probably did need some warmth. She was shivering. It wasn’t that cold! He remembered a jacked he usually kept in his car. He went back, got it and gently wrapped it around her shoulders. She was startled. His heart sank when she looked up at him. Her face… How terrible did she look! Her lips were dry, her cheeks hollow, her hair dishevelled and her eyes puffed from crying.

“Oh my God!” he could not help exclaiming, “What have you done to yourself? Your mother is stable. I just spoke to the doctor. But at this rate, you will fall ill yourself.”

She stayed silent and stared at the floor.

“Go and wash your face. You will feel better. You haven’t slept at all, have you? Go.” He prodded her.

She got up unwillingly. But hardly had she a taken a step that she stumbled. She was weak from all the crying. He got up hurriedly and held her to stop her from falling. Then he made her sit down.

“I will get something for you. You are so weak,” he told her gently and rushed to the small utility shop in the hospital. He picked up some juice, glucose and paper cups from there. Then he noticed a packet of wet tissue at the checkout counter and picked that up too. She obeyed him silently as he made her drink a glass each of juice and glucose water. He, then, handed her a wet tissue. “Wipe your face. You will feel better.” She looked surprised at his thoughtfulness. After a moment of hesitation, she took the tissue and wiped her face.

“What happened? Why the surgery all of a sudden?”

“Her condition was deteriorating. The blockage was severe and they were unable to do anything about it. She had only fifty percent chances of survival with surgery. But without it, she wouldn’t have survived today. I had to sign the consent form.” She looked at her hands as if she was reproaching them for putting those signatures.

“You did the right thing. And she is stable now.”

“She is breathing. But until she wakes up, there is no guarantee that she ever would. Coma, memory loss, mental disorientation are only some of the potential side effects.”

And depression for the daughter, Paritosh thought to himself. “And she would need someone to take care of her,” he told Rupali, “You don’t seem prepared for that at all.”

His reproach surprised her, but it also had the desired effect. “You are right,” she acknowledged in a small voice, “I am just drowning in self-pity. I shouldn’t.”

“Then come with me. I have spoken to the doctor. She won’t be conscious before evening. Let’s go to your home. You must take a shower and then take rest. And yes – have breakfast. We’ll get something packed on the way.”

She was thankful that he had come. But why was he doing this? Why was he making her dependent on him, fuelling the fire that was wrong according to him?

He got out of the car after pulling it over in front of her house in the campus. “Thank you,” she said with genuine gratitude, “For everything.”

In an unexpected gesture, he held her hands and pressed them, “Take care of yourself Rupali. It won’t do for you to break down.”

Rupali hated and loved him at that moment. He didn’t realize what he was doing to her, did he? He was just being a caring boss!

—

Mouli Banerjee was brought home. Rupali’s worst fears had not materialized. She hadn’t slipped into a coma. Although her condition was very fragile, her diet strict and she was weak. Rupali’s uncle had taken a train from Kolkata and had reached the hospital a day after the surgery. Paritosh had withdrawn on realizing that she had help. As much as she wanted him by her side, she had no reason for asking him to be, especially with her uncle present. But her uncle had to leave after a few days. His wife and young children were alone at home. “Will you be able to manage, child?” he had been concerned.

“Don’t worry Kaku. A nurse will be here, when I am not. We’d manage fine.”

“I wish I could send your Kaki here. But the little ones have their exams.”

“I understand Kaku. Don’t worry. I’d have help here if something comes up.”

“Rupali,” Paritosh stopped her as she was leaving for home that evening, “How is your mother doing?”

“Being brave. As usual,” she smiled, albeit a sad smile.

“And you?”

She averted her eyes, “I am fine, Dr. Khanna. Thanks for asking.”

“You look so drained out, Rupali. Do you want to take off for a few days?”

“Exams are at hands. I have to finish the syllabus. Excuse me, Dr. Khanna. I must head home now. My uncle has left. The nurse will leave in fifteen minutes. I need to be there before that.”

“Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. I must not detain you.”

She smiled and nodded and then made to go.

“Wait Rupali. I’ll come with you.”

She looked at him surprised.

He hesitated, “If that is fine by you.”

“Of course. Ma wants to meet you too,” she diffused the awkwardness with her enthusiastic reply.

—

To be continued

“Do you want to grab something from your home before leaving?” he asked after she was seated in his car.

She shook her head, then asked as he started driving out of the institute, “Don’t you have to grab something?”

“No,” he replied plainly.

“Talk Rupali,” he said as they pulled up on the state highway. It was narrow and was not in the best condition, but it was the shortest possible route to her hometown.

“She has heart troubles and is also severely diabetic. Surgery is highly risky. So, doctors have been avoiding it. She had a bad attack today.”

“Someone is there with her?”

“I told her so many times to resign and come to stay with me. At least a good hospital would have been close-by. My aunt is there, but she herself is out of her wits. Uncle is not in town.”

Paritosh remembered that Rupali’s father had died in her childhood. Her mother worked as a lecturer in the women’s college in her town. Although she stayed with Rupali’s uncle and aunt, she had always supported herself and Rupali on her own. The house they stayed in was ancestral property.

“Then you must keep your wits together, Rupali.”

She nodded and tried to keep her tears in check.

“So, you had come back for her?” he tried to keep a conversation going.

She nodded again, “She never let me know the exact extent of her problems. I sometimes think that staying in US and flying her there for treatment might have been better. She’d have gotten better care.”

“People from world over come to Tata Memorial for getting treatment, Rupali. We’ll get her here and she’ll get the best treatment possible.”

“She is so stubborn,” talking was helping her and she continued, “Her health was deteriorating, but she won’t leave her job.”

“She is used to her independence.”

“I know. She has brought me up all by herself. Kaku was also too young when Baba died. He could barely support himself. But I can take care of both of us now. But she just won’t let go. I won’t hear another argument from her any more. If only she survives…”

“Don’t lose hope…”

“How have you lived with so much of hopelessness for so many years, Dr. Khanna? I already feel drained.”

“Don’t lose hope before you have to.”

The conversation went on intermittently until they reached her home. Paritosh noticed her keeping the pen in one of her pockets, as she rushed inside the house. She hadn’t tossed it aside even in her current distraught state of mind. Something inside him melted at that moment.

Rupali’s aunt was indeed out of her wits. It took some effort to get enough information out of her. The attack was bad, but Rupali’s mother was stable for now. However, the blockage was serious. The doctor had advised them to take her to Mumbai immediately and get expert opinion there.

Rupali spoke to the doctor on phone and they decided to take her immediately. “We will take the national highway,” Paritosh said, “It will be a longer drive, but road is good and hence safer.”

Rupali nodded. She was conscious of how much trouble he was taking for her. But she had no options but to accept his favours at that time. She wasn’t in a position to handle it by herself.

—

Back in Mumbai, the doctors decided to keep her under observation for two days before deciding on the surgery.

“Can I suggest something?” he said when they came out of doctor’s cabin. It was almost midnight by then.

She looked at him questioningly.

“Don’t go on a leave. You will just worry yourself to sickness. Work will keep you occupied. You are not needed here anyway. Your mother is sleeping. And you can always come back after classes. Take leave when they decide to operate.”

Experience speaking, she thought! But before she could make up her mind about his advice, her thoughts went back to the incident from earlier that evening. How abruptly had he withdrawn his hands and left? He hated her, didn’t he? He didn’t want to do anything with her. And yet – here is was. Driving her around, helping her admit her mother, helping her cope with the situation… Shouldn’t she at least try to clarify? He may not believe her. But…

“Dr. Khanna,” she began slowly, “I don’t know how to thank you for everything. It is no secret to me how generous and kind-hearted you are. But by doing so much for me, you have surpassed even yourself. I know how much you hate me. My presence makes you uncomfortable. But you always bear it gracefully. I am… I am so sorry…”

“Rupali,” he stopped her and thought for a moment about how to reply. He had to say the right thing. She shouldn’t feel miserable on his account, “I do not hate you and I have come to terms with my mistakes. There is no need for either of us to be uncomfortable with the other.”

“Mistakes?”

“Yes. Mistakes. And mine, not yours. Bets like those, pranks… They were natural for you. You were young. I should have known better.”

“Natural for me?”

“I won’t lie. I had felt humiliated and I was angry at you. Angry enough that I had decided never to see you again. I had left the institute at the first chance. But now, I realize my mistake. It was all so wrong. And not because of your bet. In fact it was good that it was a prank from your side. If you had been serious, it would have been even more disastrous. And I would never have been able to forgive myself for misleading you. It was a big, horrible mistake from my side. I had gotten carried away. I hope you have moved on from that.”

With every word of his, she felt her world crumbling down once again. He had let go of his grudges and anger at her. But not because he believed her feelings. Not even because he gave into his own feelings for her. He had done so because he thought those feelings were wrong? He was saying that if her feelings had been genuine, it would have been wrong. But those were genuine! It meant that she could have no hopes of her feelings ever being accepted by him. They were wrong in his eyes. Wrong! He hoped that she had moved on. Moved on from the ‘mistakes’. But if moving on was needed for her, it was not from the ‘mistakes’, but from her feelings. And she hadn’t moved on from those. Not because she hadn’t tried. She had tried. But…

That night was fresh in her memory. David, whom she had met through common friends and whom she had been dating for a while, had come to her house. They had gotten into the bed together. They were still making out when her phone had beeped. The sound was irresistible to her. She had created a small application that notified her every time there was a Google alert for his name. Paritosh’ name. It was that application. “I must see this,” she had pushed David away and picked up the phone. It wasn’t about him. It was some other Paritosh Khanna. A small-time TV actor, whose alerts she often got and felt disappointed. The disappointment showed this time too.

“What happened?” A frustrated David had asked impatiently.

“Nothing. I was waiting for something.”

“You can tell me. You look so disappointed.”

“Nothing Dave. I think you should leave. This isn’t a great time.”

Her mysterious behaviour had infuriated him in past too. And they had been together long enough for him to press on and forcibly take her mobile to see what was on it. “Google alert? Who is Pa-ri-tosh Khan-na?” He had pronounced the Indian name with some difficulty.

“He was my professor during undergraduation,” she had come clean. There was no point in prolonging the game.

“What the fuck! You have a Google alert set up on him?”

“I just follow his research.”

“You get out of bed to see the alert and send your boyfriend away after that. I am sorry, but that is more than just following the research, Rupali. This is unhealthy obsession to say the least.”

“You are making a mountain out of a molehill,” her protest had been weak.

“Very scholarly expression. But no. I am not making a mountain out of a molehill. I should have known. Your coldness should have been a dead giveaway. I don’t know what I was thinking. If possible get a hold of yourself, and don’t toy with people when you have nothing to give to them. See a psychiatrist. Good bye, Rupali.” David had gotten dressed and was out of the house within a minute. They never talked again. She had spent rest of the night awake, head buried in her hands. Giving up on every hope of moving on!

“Rupali!” Paritosh’ voice brought her out of her thoughts, “Are you okay? I am not angry at you, not any longer. I am telling you the truth. There is nothing to worry about.”

“I am fine,” she lied.

He had said the right thing, hadn’t he? But it didn’t seem to do her any good at all. Then he remembered a two-year old video she had, a pen clutched on to desperately and kept in the purse safely even in her most tumultuous moments, and her jumping towards him and panting with worry about his fingers in the door groove. Had. He. Said. The. Wrong. Thing?

“Dr. Khanna. You should go back home. I will stay here for the night. I will come back in the morning.”

“But…”

“Thank you, Dr. Khanna. For all the help. I am not going on leave. I will be back in the morning. Good night.” She turned and went away without giving him a chance to say anything. He looked on for a while; then turned to leave. She had also looked back. But after she was sure that he would have turned.

—

To be continued

She hadn’t opened her mouth. But could he trust her? Things had changed since that day. After sharing the most personal parts of his life with her, it was not possible for him to stay aloof from her. And she had started paying more attention to him. Or at least he had started noticing her attentions.

“Do you eat fish?” she had bursted in to his office one day.

“Why?”

“Because I have some for you.”

“And where did you get it from?”

“Now that’s not fair. I asked a question first. And you have already asked me two in return without replying to mine.”

He had laughed at that and had realized immediately how rare that was. He didn’t laugh very often. “Sorry! So what was your question?” A smile still played on his lips.

“Do you eat fish?”

“Yes. I do. And to compensate for not answering earlier, let me answer any related questions to be asked in future as well. I am omnivorous. I eat almost everything.”

“Good then. Try this,” she opened a tiffin box and offered it to him. The box had some fried pieces of fish.

“Where did you get these from?”

“One of my neighbours was in town. Ma sent some through him.”

“They are delicious.”

“She is a good cook. But then all kids feel that way about their mothers, I believe.”

He had laughed again and replied, “But your mother really is. It is delicious.”

“Then have some more.”

“They are for you.”

“Far too many. And I can’t keep them for long. There are no refrigerators in the hostel. Have them please.”

Yet another day she came with some sweets.

“What’s the occasion?”

“A very auspicious one. It’s my birthday,” she had replied with a grin.

“Oh! Wow. I had no idea. Happy Birthday, Rupali. I am sorry, I didn’t know. I don’t even have a gift.”

“That’s easy. You can compensate by giving me an ‘A’ in the project.”

He had mocked a frown, “You are bribing me?”

And both of them had broken into laughter. He had started laughing quite often in her presence.

“Wait Rupali,” he had stopped her when she had made to leave, “I know nobody writes these days, except to put signatures on forms once in a while. But still…” He had taken out a pen from his drawer and had offered it to her. “My advisor had given it to me when I had completed my Ph. D. I kept it with me for all these years. Time to pass it on. Happy birthday.”

Rupali had been surprised beyond belief. It was obvious that it meant a lot to him. For him to have kept it in his drawers all the time. When she took the pen from him, there was a moment when they had held it at the same time. Their fingers hadn’t touched, but it had still sent shivers down her spine.

“Thank you,” she had mumbled, “I couldn’t have gotten a better birthday gift.” She did not dare meet his eyes. She was afraid they would give away more than either of them was prepared for.

—

Rupali stared miserably after Paritosh. She closed the door after he was out of her sight. She was crying. It won’t do to leave the door open. She went back to her chair and sat on it with her head buried in her hands. She remembered the fateful day. It was sometime in the beginning of the last semester at the institute. She was having an enthusiastic discussion with a group of her friends, which sounded so silly to her now.

“Most of us are very easy to manipulate,” she was arguing, “You just need good enough actors.”

“I think most of us can see through what is fake. Only if we have decided to look the other way do we get manipulated. Especially in the matters of heart,” Padma had objected.

“What is a matter of heart?”

“What could be a matter for heart? Relationships, romance…”

“Oh! Those are some of the most manipulated things in the world.”

“You sound very confident?”

“I’m very confident.”

“You can manipulate people into loving you.”

“You didn’t talk about love. You talked about relationships, romance, dates…”

“I didn’t talk about dates. But let’s say date. You think you can get anyone to agree to a date.”

“Define a date.”

“Umm… A coffee invitation from somebody who is not a buddy, let’s say.”

“Coffee?”

“No. That is easy to manipulate. A meal.”

“Outside the campus,” someone else had decided to add an extra condition.

“Dinner, not lunch,” came another addition.

“In a five-star hotel,” chimed in someone else.

“Come on,” Rupali had objected to this one, “Not a lot of people can afford that one. Manipulation has to be within reason.”

“All right. At least to a nice, fancy restaurant.”

“Assuming we are talking about people in the campus, and not rickshaw wallah, or daily-wage workers or grade four staff, that is reasonable,” Rupali had agreed.

“Okay then. Shall we bet?”

“Who do I have to get a date with?”

The names of some of the boys in the institute had popped up at first. From complete dudes to complete nerds. Detailed discussion had followed on what kind would be more difficult to manipulate. And then Padma had come up with the golden answer. By then Rupali was already regretting her bravado. She could have backed out. But when we are young, we tend to see an issue of prestige in trivial things.

“Not a student. A professor.”

“What? No!” Rupali had tried to protest.

“Why not? We are not talking about a rickshaw wallah, or daily-wage workers or grade four staff.”

“Some of them might even be able to afford a five-star hotel.”

Rupali had decided that she’d put up the facade of confidence for the time being and hoped that people would forget about it later on.

“Okay. Who?”

“Dr. Khanna. Paritosh Khanna,” Padma had suggested. The reason was not difficult to guess. If trying to get a date with a professor wouldn’t already be awkward enough, Dr. Khanna was known to be one of the most aloof professors. Not many people had seen him smile. He had never been seen scolding anybody, and doing anything frustrated professors usually did, but everyone was still scared of him.

What they didn’t know, however, that he was relatively relaxed with Rupali. She had smiled inwardly on hearing the name. He was writing recommendations for her Ph. D. application. If she got an admit, she could definitely demand a treat from him for ‘doing well’. If nothing else, after she made the final presentation for her project, she could declare it as an occasion for celebration. A dinner outside the campus in a nice restaurant; that was all their definition of date was, right?

Little did she know that she’d forget all about the bet, she’d have a dinner four months down the line that would become a real date, and then this bet would come back to destroy her, turning it into a lifetime of misery.

She opened her drawer to take out the pen and clutched it close to her heart. Just then her mobile rang.

—

Paritosh was annoyed with the banging on the door. What could be so urgent that someone wouldn’t respect a closed office door, which was a rarity in the institute? And even if something was that urgent, couldn’t one try knocking before banging like that. He was frozen to his spot when on opening the door he found Rupali there. In a completely dishevelled state.

“I need a leave. For at least a week.” She was practically begging.

“What is wrong?” He asked, partly concerned about her state, and partly distracted from noticing the familiar pen in her clutches. She still had the pen? And why was she running around carrying it with her? In such disturbed state?

“My mother. She has grown unwell suddenly. I need to go home and get her to the hospital here. My Kaku, I mean my uncle, is not in town to help her. I must leave right away.” Given her state, he was surprised that she was so intelligible.

“Okay. Go then. I will take care of the formalities.”

She nodded and almost ran away. It was after she was out of sight that he wondered how she would go. He knew that her hometown was at two-hour’s drive from the institute. But she didn’t have a car yet. It was too late to take a bus. He ran after her and managed to catch her right outside the department’s building.

“How will you go?”

“I… Bus… No. I will call a taxi.” The pen was still clutched in one of her hands. With the other hand she fished out her phone from her jeans pocket and tried to make a call. But her hands were shaking badly. His heart sank on seeing her in that condition. He pressed her shaking hand stopping her from further futile attempts at using the phone. “Let me take you,” he said.

“But…”

“Just listen to me, okay? You are in no position to go by yourself. Taxi or otherwise. Wait for a minute. My car is in the parking lot.”

—

To be continued

The final year project spanned two semesters for undergraduate students. Rupali was doing hers with Paritosh and she had worked hard in the first semester. When she had requested him for recommendations for her Ph. D. admission applications, he had written glowing recommendations and unknown to her had even spoken to a few of his acquaintances at some of the universities she was applying to. He hadn’t regretted the decision. She was working even harder in the second semester meeting him almost every day with her progress report or with her questions.

They talked about things beyond her project. Nothing particularly personal, but it was still more than he usually talked to any student, or even any colleague. Their conversations would be about other academic stuff, her other courses, his research interests, institute’s policies, her asking for advice about how to plan a career in academics and research and so on. He sometimes wondered why he talked so much to her. Probably because she was mature for her age and he could speak to her like an equal. At the same time he didn’t feel threatened because she was much younger. She wouldn’t judge him, his choices or his life. It was a comfortable camaraderie he enjoyed in his otherwise lonely life.

It would have stayed at that if that call from hospital hadn’t come at a time when she was in his office discussing where she was stuck with her project. The call had disturbed him, as those calls always did! “I think… I need to go out right now… Let’s continue this discussion later, Rupali,” he had told her.

“That is fine. But where are you going? Is there a problem?”

“Nothing to worry about. I have to go to the hospital,” he had replied and then seeing that she was worried even more on hearing the word ‘hospital’, he had told her the name as a way of explanation, “JJD.”

That was a mental hospital. So, there wasn’t an accident or anything. But why a mental hospital? She hadn’t asked him then, but he had to tell her later.

“It’s my wife,” he had informed her. She was in the hospital for last seven years or so. “She got those attacks since her childhood. Doctors here identified them as severe anxiety attacks. But she never got any treatment at her parents’ home. They were more interested in hushing down any stories about the attacks she had and wanted to get her married early so that the prospects of her other siblings did not get marred.”

“What does that even mean?”

He had smiled patronizingly at her, “It probably sounds Greek to you, but for a large part of our population, getting all their kids married is the only and the ultimate goal they have in life.”

“And how can you find that amusing? Don’t you feel angry? Isn’t it unfair that you are saddled with this responsibility?”

He had sighed and leaned back on his chair, “You ask me difficult questions, Rupali. There are things that we just come to terms with.”

“Why? Why wouldn’t you hold her family responsible? Why wouldn’t you send her back to them and ask for a divorce?”

Paritosh had looked thoughtful for a while and then he had spoken. He had spoken quite a lot, quite uncharacteristically. “You asked me if I don’t feel angry. I had felt angry. Extremely angry. And you know what she told me? Or rather begged me to do. She told me that instead of sending her back to her family, I should leave her in Banaras or some place. That is what her family would do as well. But if she were sent back, everyone in the village would know, and it would be a trouble for her younger siblings and cousins, especially her sisters. She gave me another option too. She told me that she would happily write a suicide note, if I could arrange to kill her. She was too scared to commit suicide herself. Otherwise she would have done it long back.”

Rupali had looked like all the blood was drained out of her face.

“I’m sorry,” he had realized that he had said things that were too crass and had added gently. “I got carried away. I am scaring you.”

“No. Obviously you didn’t do either,” she had smiled weakly, “There is nothing to be scared about.”

“How could I? And then…” he had stopped himself. He was getting carried away again. He hadn’t realized that he was so eager to talk to someone about all of this. But how appropriate would it to tell all this to a student, especially when he had kept silent before everyone else all these years.

“Then?”

He had smiled, “Nothing. Let’s…”

“You can’t tell me half the story, Dr. Khanna. That’s not fair.”

“Real life stories are not fairy tales. They don’t have a happy ending. Or even a closure.”

“I know that by now. But I still need to know the rest.”

He had shaken his head at her persistence. Then he had decided that she had heard the worst already, and continued, “I had some questions to answer myself too. Why had I married her? Because my mother wanted a daughter-in-law who would serve her and take care of her in her last days. She wouldn’t leave our hometown and live with me here. So, Amrit, that is my wife, had stayed back with her. She never complained. She took care of her like a professional nurse here won’t have been able to do. All this while fighting through her own illness. Did I owe her nothing? I visited once a month and for a long time I didn’t even know about her problems. I had stayed longer during summer vacation once. It was then that she got one of her attacks and I came to know about it. When that happened, she had cried at my feet asking me to choose one of those two options, but not send her back. In that scheme of things was she a perpetrator or a victim? Sending her back would have been a lifelong punishment for her and not her family, who were the real culprits. My own family had done no better by her. I questioned my mother about not informing me and not getting her treated. Apparently they had been to a doctor in the town. He said everything was fine with her and she was just missing her parents’ home.  Once she settled down in her new home, everything would be fine. You didn’t have to be a doctor to know that the diagnosis was flawed. She was seriously troubled. I tried to convince my mother that both of them should come and live with me. But my mother wouldn’t agree. ‘If you are missing your wife so much, take her. I am not leaving my home,’ she would taunt me. And the idea of serving her in-laws at all costs was so ingrained in Amrit that she wouldn’t think of doing anything against my mother’s wishes.”

He had fallen silent, but Rupali urged him on, “Then?”

“I drove myself crazy thinking about it. Finally I decided to raise my voice against my mother. It didn’t come easy to me. I was not brought up that way. Parents’ wishes had been the final word for me all my life. They had wanted me to come back from US. I did. They had wanted me to marry Amrit. I did. But now I was responsible for Amrit’s wellbeing too. So, I decided to go home to get her here. But I didn’t have to rebel. Just as I was leaving for home, I got a call from Amrit telling me that my mother was breathing her last. She died minutes after I reached there. I brought Amrit here with me, but her problems only increased with time. The doctors told me that it was too late for her to get better. And after…” His voice had drowned again.

“Dr. Khanna?”

“This is crazy. Wrong. Why I am telling you all this?” he had suddenly grown extremely self-conscious.

“Because it doesn’t look like you have shared it with many people. Probably with no one. And we need to share our problems.”

“She wanted a baby,” he needed only a small encouragement to continue, “She was convinced that it would be a cure to her problems. Despite doctors advising against it. But pregnancy only made her condition worse. During one of the attacks she harmed herself and… the baby could not be saved. She had a complete breakdown after that and had to be institutionalized. There was no way she could lead a normal life here. And that is how she has been till now… She had a severe attack yesterday when I got the call. So, I went to see her. Sometimes she recognizes me and it helps her. But most of the times even that doesn’t happen.”

They had stayed silent for a while. Rupali needed time to process everything she had heard. “I’m sorry,” she had finally broken the silence with these words, “For you. But your wife is really lucky.”

Paritosh had shrugged not knowing how to feel about that complement. Then he had tried to change the subject, “Our discussion was interrupted yesterday. Shall we…”

“Not now,” she had stopped him urgently. Paritosh had looked at her for a moment and had realized that she was too affected. He had come to terms with all of it over the years, but he had told her too much in just a few minutes.

“Fine,” he had relented. She didn’t usually shy away from work. So, she must not be in a position to discuss. That’s why she had stopped him. “But don’t be so disturbed. Things happen. Life is not fair. But we don’t stop living.”

She had nodded.

“You want some coffee, or tea?” he had asked seeing that she was still quite shaken up.

The coffee invitation would have been the first step towards winning her bet with her friends, but she had long forgotten about it. Right then, she could really do with some coffee. So, she had nodded and they had walked to the department’s canteen to grab a cup.

They had sipped their coffee in awkward silence. Paritosh had looked around after a while and had spoken after ensuring that the place almost empty, “Rupali. You really shouldn’t have heard all of this. I know it sounds selfish that I should be preaching you after unburdening myself at your expense. But try to forget. It is sad and dark and I would hate it if it affected you.”

“I am fine. Don’t worry about me.”

He had nodded and had spoken again after a pause, “Not many people know about it here. Many think that I am not married or am widowed. Not that I want to deceive anyone. But I don’t want rumours and pity all around me either.”

“I won’t open my mouth, I promise. You can trust me,” she had said earnestly.

—

To be continued