The Safety Net (Part 6)

Posted 3 CommentsPosted in English, Mukundo-Piyali, Original

Two years later…

Piyali was sleeping. But the hospital allowed them in her room, provided they did not disturb her. Mr. Banerjee went inside, but Mukundo could not proceed beyond the doorstep. After taking in every detail of her sickly, pale face, he turned on his heels. When Mr. Banerjee came out, he found him slumping against the wall right beside the door.

“Mukundo!”

“It’s my fault, Kaku.”

“What are you talking about?”

“What she wanted,” he turned away from Mr. Banerjee and said, “What she has been so stubborn and obsessed about… the idea wouldn’t have occurred to her, if she didn’t know my feelings.”

“Your feelings? What are you… What had happened? Had you said something?”

“I assure you, Kaku. Nothing was said or done. Because we have control over our words, and our actions. But, unfortunately, not over our feelings. And they were felt…”

He waited for Mr. Banerjee’s reaction with bated breath. But he did not speak. So, Mukundo prepared to turn to face him. If he had given into his urge of confessing, he would have to face the aftermath. But before that could happen, they heard some noise from inside. They rushed in.

“Baba!” Piyali noticed her father first. He sat down by her side and pressed her hands. Then her eyes fell on Mukundo who was slowly approaching her.

“Mukundo Babu?” the words formed on her lips, but her voice failed her. Was she hallucinating? She hadn’t seen him or talked to him in last two years. She stared as he came to stand on the other side of her bed. “Is that really you?” she finally managed to speak.

“Yes. It’s me, Piyali,” he tried to smile.

“How come? Am I dying?” her attempt to chuckle barely went beyond a low, whimpering sound. She was weak from illness.

“Shut up!” Mukundo and Mr. Banerjee spoke together.

She closed her eyes and took a deep, labored breath.

“Pihu. You need to come back home. As soon as you have recovered a bit, we will leave…”

“I’ll be fine here, Baba. You needn’t have come all the way just for…”

“Come home, Piyali,” Mukundo interjected, “Please.”

She stared at him. Her questioning and accusing eyes felt like they would penetrate his soul. But so be it. He sat down on a stool lying near her bed.  “I will never allow myself, or you, to do anything that Kaku wouldn’t approve of. Or that would hurt him or his honor. But Piyali, that is no reason that I should not stand by you. I owe you a big apology that I did not do so. I am sorry. And I promise that it will never happen again. I will always be by your side. Please come home.”

Tears rolled down her cheeks. Two years and more — this is what she had pined for. His acceptance. It had taken a life-threatening illness for it to come her way. But then, she wouldn’t have minded if it had taken death itself. She got a bargain!

Only after making his resolution heard did Mukundo look at Mr. Banerjee. His eyes were fixed on his daughter and the expression on his face was inscrutable. Mukundo would worry about him later. He returned his attention to Piyali. “Stop crying,” he pleaded. Piyali noticed him clenching his fist. He would have wanted to wipe her tears, to touch her. But he was resisting. She smiled and wiped her tears off.

“Kaku? Please take a seat,” Mukundo welcomed Mr. Banerjee anxiously. They had returned the day before and Piyali had come with them.

“You did not come to see us. I was worried if you have yourself fallen sick.”

“No Kaku. I am fine.”

“Never in my wildest dream had I thought that you thought of Pihu like that, Mukundo.” Mukundo gulped hard and downcast his eyes. What could he say in his defense? He was guilty as charged. “But what did you think of me? Am I a monster?”

“Kaku!” he looked up surprised.

“For two years. Two years — my daughter has been suffering. And I am helplessly seeing her suffer. Couldn’t you have told me once, just once, what you wanted?”

Mukundo was tongue-tied. Where was this going?

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Kaku! I… I didn’t think you will ever accept it. Especially after the way you had reacted to Pihu’s confession…”

“I admit, Mukundo, that I was shocked. And I probably would not have agreed at once. It didn’t sound right at all. I had always thought of you affections for her as more brotherly. Everyone did so. But… I am not a stubborn idiot. She is my daughter, Mukundo. If after Debangi’s death, I was still alive, it was for her sake. Do you think I enjoyed seeing her like that? Could the society or the rest of the world be more important to me than her? I repressed her because I thought that if she ever told you or anyone else anything, we’d become a laughing stock.”

“And you kept sending me photographs of girls in last two years more aggressively than ever. As if you wanted me out of the way…”

“Mukundo. I had promised your father on his death-bed that I would look after you. God is my witness that I have been trying to get you married again and settled well for much longer than these two years.”

“I probably just… felt the pain more… in these two years. Was she ill for a long time, Kaku?”

“She was preparing to fall ill all this time – yes. She never came home. When I went there, every time I found her worse than earlier. Apart from her roommate, she didn’t have any friends, didn’t go anywhere, worked like an animal…”

“You never told me… If I hadn’t been there when that call came, I wouldn’t have known even now.”

“I didn’t want you to feel responsible, Mukundo.”

Mukundo looked down and a drop of his tear fell on his lap.

“Mukundo. I am angry. But I am not blaming you. I failed both of you too. But trust me. I didn’t need my daughter to reach her death-bed to accept your wishes. Especially not when I know that I myself won’t be around to take care of her… In whose care would I leave her if not you…”

“Kaku? What are you talking about?”

“All those years of smoking has caught up. My lungs are giving way…”

“Kaku?”

“I don’t have more than a year left. After that you have to take care of her. And yourself too.”

“Kaku. That’s…”

“Don’t say anything about it, Mukundo. It is of no use. Nothing can be done. It will only cause more grief and depression.”

“Does she know?”

“No. I didn’t have the heart to tell her. I am hoping that you’d help me with that. I will leave now. Hope you will visit soon.”

To be continued

The Safety Net (Part 5)

Posted 6 CommentsPosted in English, Mukundo-Piyali, Original

He released her slowly, despite having wanted to do it immediately. If he reacted that way she might grow conscious and be hurt. What should he do? How should he take the inevitable awkwardness away? Yes! He would pretend that nothing unusual happened. They wouldn’t talk about it and it will go away, won’t it? Anyway, he was going to be away for several months.

But how should he continue the conversation to make it sound normal? He wanted to ask if she was okay. But asking that might have meant acknowledging this… Ugh… What should he do?

“Dinner?” he asked before he had really reached a conclusion.

She looked at him puzzled. ‘Don’t…. Don’t do that, Piyali. Don’t ask questions with those innocent eyes of yours,’ he screamed inwardly.

He didn’t know what she made out of all this, but she just nodded. He had to leave for the airport after dinner.

“Don’t let him get to you, Piyali,” he told her before leaving, “Don’t wallow in self-pity. Study well for your last semester and don’t let your grades suffer. You can do that, can’t you?”

She nodded. “You will call, right?” she asked, her anticipation barely concealed.

“Of course. And I will send you my number once I reach. You can call anytime you want to talk.” What the hell was up with this formal permission-taking for calling, he thought with some irritation. What was she thinking? But he didn’t dare ask.

“Meet him once, Pihu. He is also in bay area. It will work out just fine,” her father was getting on her nerves. What was this sudden obsession with trying to get her married? The convocation had just been over. She was going to Stanford for her masters. She was just twenty-one -years old.  Her Baba had never come across as one to believe in early marriages. Why was he after her life now? She finally lost her patience.

“Baba. I don’t want to meet him. Or anybody else, for that matter. I know who I want to marry.”

“Oh! Who?” he asked looking worried. What could explain this peculiarity of Indian parents? They would be after their children’s lives to get them married. But the idea that the children too might be thinking of their own marriage sent them into nervous fits!

“Mukundo Babu!” she replied insolently.

“What? What did you say?”

“Mukundo Babu. I want to marry him.”

“Is this some kind of a joke?”

“No Baba.”

“In that case, don’t ever say that again.” Piyali had never felt such chill in her father’s voice.

“But Baba…”

“Shut up, Pihu. Not another word. You will make a fool of yourself and of me too. You don’t seem to have any idea about how ridiculous you are being…”

“Baba. At least listen to me. How can you just…”

He lost his temper and raised his hands. For the first time in his life. But he was stopped before his hand could reach his bewildered daughter. “Kaku. Stop.”

“Mukundo!”

“You can’t raise your hands on her like this, Kaku?”

“Do you have any idea what this girl was saying…”

“She is just a child, Kaku. But you and I know better, don’t we? You can’t hit her,” Mukundo could feel Piyali’s hurt, angry eyes on him. But he did not meet them. “Go to your room, Piyali,” he told her without turning towards her. Tears of insult and guilt filled her eyes as she ran away from there. So, he had reached there just in time to witness her shame, and instead of supporting her, to shame her further?

Mukundo slumped in his work-chair in despair. What had she done? Before talking to him, why did she open her mouth before her father? They hadn’t been incommunicative. They had talked on phone over last few months. About usual stuff. About her day, her studies, her assignment submissions, project presentation, his teaching, research and people he was working with. Once in a while he had noticed that longing in her voice, in a lingering pause before disconnecting, in a little sigh, which wasn’t just for a friend, but more. The same longing that he had been feeling for almost four years now. Since the day he had seen her at a wedding in the neighborhood. Dancing away, wearing a low-cut choli with her pink lehanga, the thin dupatta across her chest and around her neck barely doing anything it was supposed to do. He had realized that she was a grown woman now — beautiful and desirable. He had been shocked at his own thoughts involving her — drifting away in a forbidden territory. He had been her friend, philosopher and guide forever. He had known her since she was an infant. He had always loved her. He had always seen an intelligent and cheerful girl in her, whose company he enjoyed, whose smile warmed his heart and whom he hated to see sad. But this was different. Different and wrong. His feelings for her would never be socially acceptable. Her father would be disgusted and so would be she. Not knowing how to deal with it all, he had stopped visiting them. Until she had come to him crying, afraid that she had somehow angered him during the wedding and needed to atone for it. He had no option, but to go back to her, to give in to her whim, to visit her every month, to witness her relationship with Ahwaan and to console her when it went awry.

All that was fine, but his own feelings should not have been revealed to her. Yet they were, and it was going to destroy her. He wasn’t surprised that Mr. Banerjee found the idea preposterous. He had always anticipated that. Many a times during their phone calls in the last few months, he had thought of clearing the air. He had wanted to explain to her that she needed to forget what had happened just before he had left and their relationship should remain platonic and pure. But he couldn’t muster courage to discuss it on phone. He’d do it in person. Because if she was hurt, or felt bad, he needed to be there to support her, to help her heal.

But she didn’t wait for him to do that. What was he to do now?

Piyali had stopped coming out to meet him when he visited them. She waited for him to come to her. He did not do that. Had she understood it all wrong, then? Her father looked miserable. Thankfully he did not try to get her to meet any potential groom.

“What you wanted, Pihu, was a childish wish. You are no match for each other,” he explained to her affectionately on the day she was to leave for US. “Focus on your studies there, and do well.” For some reason, she felt that those were Mukundo’s words, more than her father’s. But to him, she just nodded. When they came out to leave for airport, she found Mukundo waiting for them with his car. “I will drop you,” he said. After loading the luggage in the boot, Mr. Banerjee sat with him on the passenger seat and Piyali got into the back seat. Their eyes met a couple of times in the rear-view mirror, but she averted them every time.

“You have checked everything. Tickets, passport? The letters from the university? No liquid in your handbag.” At the airport, Piyali silently bore her father’s fussing over everything. Was Mukundo Babu not going to say anything?

“Take care,” he said as she made to walk in. So close, and yet so distant! She nodded and walked in. She did not look back even to wave to her father. She did not want anyone seeing her tears.

To be continued

The Safety Net (Part 4)

Posted 3 CommentsPosted in English, Mukundo-Piyali, Original

“Mukundo Babu,” it was another of his visits. She was in her second semester now.

“Hmm…” he didn’t look up from whatever he was reading. This was their usual routine. They didn’t always have a lot to talk about. Because whenever they did feel like talking, they would call each other up and not wait for his trip. So, Mukundo brought his work with him and she also continued her studies or any other work, while he stayed.

“Baba was quite disappointed.”

“With what?”

“’With who’ is the right question. With you.”

“Why?” he looked up startled.

“He was quite hopeful that by this winter, you would be married.”

“And he has asked you to talk to me?” Mukundo sounded annoyed.

“I had visited Aporna Didi during my winter breaks.”

“Piyali!” Aporna, his errant ex-wife, was a distant cousin of Piyali. It was her father who had been instrumental in getting her married to Mukundo. Probably that was the reason he felt so guilty towards him and was desperate to see him settled again.

“She is a changed person, Mukundo Babu. She repents…”

“Piyali. This isn’t for you to discuss with me…”

“Why not, Mukundo Babu? Who else will talk to you? Do you let anybody do that? Aren’t you lonely? Don’t tell me you are not. If you were married and had a content life, would you still have time to entertain my whim and make this monthly trip to Mumbai?”

“Piyali!” He flung the book he was holding across the room. Piyali jerked back and for the first time in her life she felt scared in his presence. Not just scared, terrified.

He, too, was terrified of himself. He was so angry that he feared he would do something untoward. He made to leave the room. Piyali found the courage to move and leapt out of bed. “Mukundo Babu. Please wait.”

Hearing her pleading voice calmed him a bit. He stopped and looked back at her. “Is this what things have come to, Piyali? You are pitying me?”

“Oh my God! No, Mukundo Babu. Please let me explain.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to…”

“No. Please listen to me. Something terrible happened recently that I haven’t told you about.”

“What?” he frowned.

“A girl from my batch – she tried to commit suicide.”

“What? Why?”

“Don’t really know. But something must be bothering her. And she wasn’t able to talk to anyone. It was a scary experience, Mukundo Babu. Someone could be so lonely and desperate that she could think of nothing but taking her own life.”

“Are you okay?” Mukundo completely forgot about his anger and outburst and was now concerned only with her emotional well-being.

“I thought about how lucky I was. To have you in my life. As a friend, an anchor. We talked a lot, you know. After that incident. Many of us. About our fears and vulnerabilities, loneliness… And I realized how unique my situation is. How comfortable. And then I could not help thinking about you. What about you? Who did you have in your life? To anchor your life around? To share everything with? It isn’t fair that you should be lonely, Mukundo Babu.”

“Piyali,” he held her shoulders, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? Why are you sorry?”

“I shouted at you.”

“Yeah,” she chuckled, “You scared the hell out of me.”

“And I’m really sorry about it.”

“I promise I won’t bother you again.”

“Don’t worry about me. I have you in my life. I have an anchor, a purpose.”

“But you don’t share your problems with me, the way I do with you.”

“I do share. Whenever I feel that you can handle it. It is true that I am patronizing towards you. I have seen sixteen more years of life than you. So, sometimes I don’t find it fair that you should be exposed to some of its cruelties before time. But you are my friend. You will always be. And till you are happy, wherever you are, I will be very happy.”

She smiled. He suppressed an urge to pull her in his arms.

“Dinner?” he asked.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

“Ahwaan is not joining us?”

“No,” she pouted.

“Why?”

“He says he feels very self-conscious in your presence,” she chuckled.

But he looked somber. “Why?”

“Oh don’t bother, Mukundo Babu. I think he is just jealous.”

“Jealous?”

“You are what any boy would want to be.”

“Huh?”

“I am not explaining that,” she looked away as if she was scared of saying something inappropriate. Mukundo looked at her curiously, but did not probe her further.

Three and a half years flew by. Mukundo had come to meet her just before her winter break. He was taking a short-term position with a university in Europe. He would be gone until summers.

“I will see you now only after your graduation, Piyali.”

“You won’t be here for even my convocation?”

“Unfortunately my intended research work won’t allow me come back by then, Pihu. But come on. Be happy for me. I am really excited about this opportunity.”

“Of course. I was being selfish as usual. Congratulations, Mukundo Babu.”

“Thank you. I have to leave tomorrow night. I have taken a late-night flight. Why don’t you invite Ahwaan to join us for dinner?” He did join them once in a while, though not always.

“I will ask him. But…”

“What?”

“I won’t see you at all in the next semester?”

Mukundo laughed, “And aren’t you planning to go for higher studies after this Piyali? Even you can’t ask me to travel to US every month. Let’s get used to this.”

“Not every month, but every quarter?” she asked innocently and then grinned.

Mukundo raise his eyebrows feigning shock at her proposal.

She was already close to tears when he opened the door for her next evening and started sobbing as soon as she was inside the room. It took quite a bit of coaxing and repeated persuasion on his part to make her speak. Ahwaan had broken up with her.

“It won’t work out according to him. He wants to get a job, then do an MBA. I want to go for an MS – possibly a Ph. D.”

“Piyali. Calm down.”

“We were together for three years. And he was just so…”

“What?”

“Cruel. I was inviting him to join us for dinner and…”

Her sobs grew louder. He told her to stop thinking about it. “It’s not the end of life, Piyali.”

“You were right, Mukundo Babu, weren’t you? All boys are bad.”

“At this age. It doesn’t mean everyone else you meet will also be bad. And then I had said something else too. Remember? Your safety net. It won’t take you too long to heal.”

“I… I might have gone beyond the safety net, Mukundo Babu.”

“What do you mean?” he grew alarmed.

She gulped hard, but could not speak.

“Oh God! You… you aren’t pregnant or something…”

“What? No! Damn it… But I did… We did…” she took a deep breath, “Sleep together.”

He shouldn’t have felt relieved at that. But he had already thought of the worse. So, that’s precisely what his reaction was. “Thank God! It’s not a big deal… What am I saying… Look. Piyali. I am not asking you to take such things casually… But you are an adult. It’s not a sin or anything… You had me scared…”

He fell silent when he realize that she had thrown her arms around him and was hugging him tight. He hesitated for a moment, then drew his arm around her. He held her head with one hand and kept the other one on her back. He planted a kiss on her head and murmured. “It’s all right. Everything is all right.” She clung even more desperately to him.  He also tightened his arms in response. He felt her shallow, uneven breath on his chest and it ignited an uncontrollable fire in him. His fingers dug into her hair and her back. He caressed her roughly as she ran her hands over his sensitive spine. He pulled her head away fully intending to kiss her. But a look at her face brought him back to his senses. What on earth was he doing? It was Piyali. He couldn’t… He shouldn’t… No one will ever accept it. And he needed to let her fly, live her own life… Damn…

To be continued

The Safety Net (Part 3)

Posted 6 CommentsPosted in English, Mukundo-Piyali, Original

“Promila Kaki has made payas? It’s so unfair, Baba, that I can’t have it,” Piyali cribbed on phone.

“What do I do, Pihu? Can’t really send someone with it, can I?”

“You could send it with Mukundo Babu.”

“Mukundo?” Mr. Banerjee laughed, “Why? Your Mukundo Babu has got your Harry Potter’s broom or what? How will he take it there? Teleport it?”

Piyali was surprised. His flight was in two hours. He’d already have left for airport. He hadn’t told her father that he was coming to meet her.

“I… I don’t know. He keeps telling me that he’d visit me. He might just be teasing me.”

“Don’t worry. You can have as much payas as you want when you come here for Poojo. How are the studies going?”

“They are going fine…” Piyali went through the rest of the conversations absent-mindedly. Nobody knew about Mukundo Babu’s visits to her? Why?

Mukundo had reached in time for dinner and they decided to go to a restaurant in the campus itself.

“We can walk, right?” Mukundo asked, “Then I will let go of the taxi.”

“Yes. Inside the campus you do not need the car.”

She threw a few curious glances at him as they walked beside each other. He grew conscious of that after a while. “What happened?”

She smiled sheepishly, “No. Nothing.”

“Silly girl,” he mumbled.

Her phone rang as soon as they sat down. “No. I can’t come… I am with Mukundo  Babu… Yes. He is visiting… I will call you later… I will finish the report…”

“Who was it?”

“Ahwaan.”

“Hmm… So, what is good here?” he glanced through the menu.

“Nothing really. Non-veg is horrible. Paneer is a safe choice.”

“All right. Why don’t you order?”

She did that and then they were free to talk.

“Mukundo Babu. Can I ask you something?”

“You are asking for my permission?” he raised his eyebrows.

“Mukundo Babu. Please! It’s… it’s different. And serious.”

“What happened?” he grew concerned.

“It’s like how you had said… But you should be able to answer it… How can one know if a boy is nice?”

“Huh?”

“As in… he is sincere and not just fooling around?”

Mukundo couldn’t help laughing a little.

“Mukundo Babu! Please!” she pleaded.

“Pihu Rani. At this age, by default, no boy is nice.”

She leaned away from him and looked disappointed, even embarrassed.

“So? Who is it? Good-with-chemistry boy?”

“Forget about it… Let’s call the waiter. Why hasn’t he brought our juices yet? Excuse me!”

Mukundo did not resume the conversation over dinner, but he stopped her when on their way back she made to take the way to her hostel.

“Piyali. Listen to me…” In the street light he could make out her begrudged face. But she stayed nevertheless. “Do you remember the circus we had gone to watch last year?”

She nodded, puzzled.

“And you remember the trapeze acts? How they soared and flied high.”

She nodded again.

“It, of course, took a lot of practice for them to do it right. But they could do it fearlessly, because there was a safety net beneath them. And as if to make the point, there is always a clown in such acts, who falls down.”

“Okay?”

“Life and its decisions are not going to be easy for you, Pihu Rani. They never are, for anyone. It will take a lot of hits and trials for you to get things right. You might occasionally fall. But don’t shy away from soaring high. Because I am there as your safety net. I will not let you fall to the ground and get hurt. Just don’t go to a place where my safety net can’t reach.”

She looked overwhelmed and subdued at the same time. “Mukundo Babu!” she whispered and could not say anything else.

Mukundo chuckled, ostensibly at her reaction, but mostly from embarrassment. He had been too emotional. “Silly girl. Don’t you already know that I am there for you?”

“I want you to meet him, Mukundo Babu.”

“I have met him.”

“I want you to meet him again. And again… whenever you come.”

“Fine. Whatever you want, if he doesn’t find my company boring. Invite him for lunch tomorrow.”

“Lunch would be too hurried. Both of us have labs in the afternoon. Dinner?”

“Sure. And let’s go out of the campus. To someplace which serves better food.”

“Yeah.”

“Good night, Piyali. Sleep well.”

“Good night, Mukundo Babu.”

‘Sleep well,’ Piyali repeated the words to herself as she walked towards her hostel. And for some reason, her mind went back to the ragging days. “I went to bed… with Mukundo Babu.” What would it be like to sleep beside him? Feel the warmth of his body… ‘You have become deprave, Piyali,’ she reproved herself, ‘Stop reading Mills and Boons.’

Mukundo slumped on the chair in his room back at the guest house. He buried his head in his hands and took a deep breath. But he could not stop a drop of tear that fell into his lap. He was trying to not get in her way, to not do something that will make her either uncomfortable with him, or leave her feeling smothered. He hoped that he didn’t end up making her unduly licentious. He would have been much clearer in his head if his own little heart was not creating troubles in between. What on earth was wrong with him?

“Oh Piyali! You will drive me mad.” Why had he agreed to these monthly visits? But he couldn’t have disagreed without saddening her. And he hated the very idea of her being sad. He’d bear a thousand times more pain that he was bearing right now just to ensure that she smiled.

“Tired?” he asked when she came to his room the next evening.

“Yes. Classes since eight-o-clock in the morning. Three hours in the lab – standing all the time. This place is made to kill people.”

Mukundo smiled.

“And there is a test tomorrow. I have to study as well,” she said dumping her bag on the table and falling back on the bed with a thump.

“If that’s the case, it is not the time to sleep. Get up and study. Do you want to cancel going out for dinner? It will waste several hours.”

“No. No. I will finish before that. Don’t worry about that.”

“Piyali…” he hesitated.

“What?”

“I was wondering… You know… Life here is hectic. So much to do. Studies. Extra-curricular stuff… Don’t my visits put even more pressure on your time…”

She sat up and he found her body stiffening. “If you don’t want to come, it has to be your decision. Don’t put that on my head.”

“Piyali. I was only trying to have an honest discussion. We don’t remain the same all our lives. Our perception of what is important to us, what we need, what we want – everything changes with time. And you are at a stage of your life, where you will experience so many new things and feel these changes come to you very, very quickly. You would be a completely different person by the time you graduate from here. And then again a completely different person a few years after that. You had probably never imagined that you could live happily, away from your Baba, from me, from Kolkata. But you are comfortable here, right? You have friends you like. You have a life – much different from anything you have had earlier. Am I right, or not?”

Her eyes were glued to the floor for most part of his monologue. She continued to stare down as she replied. “Everything you have said is right. Yes – it is exhilarating. This different life. This sudden feeling of independence and growing up. The need and ability to make my own decisions. You are right. Sometimes, when Baba gets too pedantic, I feel like telling him that I am not a little girl anymore. And that he doesn’t have any idea of what my life is like. But honestly, Mukundo Babu,” she looked up, “I still look forward to your visits more than anything else. Yes – I am already more mature and independent than I was. So, if you decide that your monthly visits are not worth the hassle, I will be able to live with it. I will not come crying to you like earlier. But since you wanted an honest discussion. I would really like you to continue visiting. I’d be disappointed and sad if you didn’t.”

She was devoted to him, wasn’t she? As devoted as he was to her, if not more. Mukundo could not help feeling overwhelmed and he did not try to hide how he felt.

“In that case, Pihu Rani,” he sat beside her and looked straight in her eyes, “Nothing can stop me from visiting.”

Her smile on hearing that reached right up to her eyes. That heart-warming smile!

To be continued

The Safety Net (Part 2)

Posted 4 CommentsPosted in English, Mukundo-Piyali, Original

Now he had noticed for himself that she was a grown woman. Why did it make her feel so strange? As if there was something wrong with growing up? Had he sounded distant? Was that why she was feeling almost ashamed of having grown up?

But her anxiety washed away when Mukundo visited them in the evening. He was his usual self. Joking with her and pulling her legs. Also, giving her advice on how to manage her studies once she went to Mumbai.

He must have been busy in last few days, then. And growing up wasn’t a bad thing either.

Mukundo went to Mumbai sooner than planned. Mr. Banerjee caught flu just three days before Piyali was to leave. The responsibility of taking her to Mumbai automatically fell on Mukundo’s shoulders.

“Why are looking so somber, Piyali? Kaku would be fine in another couple of days. You needn’t worry about him,” Mukundo told her on the flight.

“Yeah. It’s not that really.”

“Then?”

“Just… Would you miss me, Mukundo Babu?”

“You have a doubt about that?”

“Well… You will get married… And then who has the time…”

“Where did that come from? Who is getting married?”

“Baba has been looking around. He said he had promised you Baba…”

“Rubbish. You don’t worry about all that.”

“I am not worrying really,” she smiled at him, “Wouldn’t it be great if you got married?”

“I’ve done that once,” he said bitterly, “And I’m done with it.”

“Why are you getting angry at me?”

“No,” he smiled, “I’m not angry with you. Remember this though. I can never stop missing you. And I have promised to come every month, haven’t I?”

She gave him that smile of hers which always warmed his heart.

“What is this?” It was Piyali’s first day in the campus. Mukundo was staying for four days to ensure that she was settled in. She was busy with induction activities the entire day and had come to meet him in the evening. Mukundo was surprised by her attire and could not suppress an amused chuckle. She was wearing a salwaar, kurta and dupatta, each from a different set. Her hair was oiled and tied in two ponytails. She looked ridiculous.

“Don’t act so innocent. As if you don’t know about ragging. Why hadn’t your warned me?”

“Warned you about what? That they will make you wear ridiculous dresses. I didn’t know what the trend was these days…”

“Not that!”

“Then?”

“Nothing.”

“Piyali. Is everything all right?”

“Yeah.”

“Listen. Some of my classmates are now professors here. I know them very well. If someone is troubling you too much, we can talk to…”

“No. No. Don’t do that. It will only alienate me.”

“That’s very wise of you. But at least tell me what is happening. Something is bothering you. And it’s not this ridiculous dress, right?”

“It’s just that… you should have warned me… I shouldn’t have told the seniors that you are my neighbor, and not a relative.”

“What happened?” he asked cautiously. He could almost guess now.

“Nothing happened. Just that… they are making me say things… And it’s not good.”

“I… I am sorry, Piyali. I really didn’t think… I thought only boys did such things…” If a boy came with her sister, or worst still, if his sister or some other female relative was already in the campus, senior students would make him ‘describe’ the girl in most obscene terms. Apparently his notion that girls didn’t do such things was either a misinformed or an antiquated one.

“Yeah? You think all girls are like convent nuns?”

“Would you be fine, Piyali? Do you want me to stay on until the ragging is over? You can stay away from the hostel…”

“I’m almost tempted to accept the offer. But I should learn to manage, shouldn’t I?”

He smiled fondly, “Yes. You are a strong girl.”

“But right now, I am going to wash my hair and change into something wearable. Then you will take me out for dinner.”

“You don’t want to eat with your new friends?”

“I have next four years to do that. I will only see you only once a month now. That is, if you keep your promise.”

She took out some clothes from her bag and slipped into his bathroom.

Mukundo’s smile disappeared as soon as she slipped out of his sight. What had they made her say? She had looked so vulnerable when he had as much as mentioned her being a grown woman. How would she have felt about it, when they made her say whatever it was? He didn’t want to imagine what it was.

Piyali on the other hand had said it. It had started with a prank that was familiar to her. They would do it even in school. They would have someone describe her daily routine. “I got up.” “I took a shower.” Then they would have her add the name of her favorite celebrity after each action. “I got up… with Shahrukh Khan.” “I took a shower… with Shahrukh Khan.” If they had made her say it with Shahid Kapoor, her celebrity crush, she would also have giggled with them. But they had made her say it “with Mukundo Babu.” Her hot neighbor, as those who had seen him described him. Hot? Of course, he was hot. Tall, broad shoulders, clean-shaven, criminally fair skin, those penetrating eyes, thick hair… By the time she had come to the end of her day — “I went to bed… with Mukundo Babu” – she had felt a chill run down her spine. She had found herself thinking about it. What would it be like? To sleep beside him? To feel the warmth of his body? The ragging was getting to her. She was going crazy.

Her father visited her the next month. So, Mukundo came back two months later. She was nervous about upcoming exams. “Chemistry? I can’t believe why we still have to study Chemistry! I am supposed to be doing a course in Computer Science, for God’s sake?”

“Calm down, Pihu Rani. You have attended all the classes, right? That should sail you through.”

“But it is a good thing you came, Mukundo Babu. At least the rooms in guest house have AC. I can study here comfortably. The rooms in the hostel are boiling.”

“Good then. You study. I will finish some work meanwhile.”

“Mukundo Babu!”

“Yes?”

“A friend of mine will also come in a bit. He is good with Chemistry. I enticed him to study with me by telling him about the AC,” she grinned.

Mukundo laughed. “You are growing wicked. But good for you.”

Mukundo did not know whether she was trying to hide it or not, but the romantic currents were obvious between her and her good-with-Chemistry friend – Ahwaan. Besides, from the way they were studying, it didn’t seem like he was particularly good with Chemistry. Piyali was explaining more to him that he was to her.

“We can get you an AC in your room, if the heat is bothering you,” he told her later.

“It’s not allowed. We can have coolers at most. There are people who rent it out for four years. I have already got one fitted.”

“Good.”

To be continued

The Safety Net (Part 1)

Posted 5 CommentsPosted in English, Mukundo-Piyali, Original

“Mukundo Babu,” Piyali peeped into his study.

Mukundo drew a sharp breath. What had he been thinking? For how long could he have avoided her? He assumed a neutral expression and turned in his swivel chair to face the door.

“Piyali. What are you doing here?”

“It has been four days since you visited us. Why haven’t you been coming?”

He averted his eyes and fixed them on the notebook he was holding, “I have been busy.”

“Busy?” she repeated as if it was an unfamiliar word.

“Yes.”

“Busy doing what?”

“Work. I have work to do. I had to grade the papers,” he said and turned back, ostensibly to resume his work on the study-table.

But she stood rooted to her place and didn’t leave. So, Mukundo had to turn to her again. “What is it?” he asked.

“Why aren’t you telling me if you are angry with me?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Something happened at the wedding, didn’t it? What was it?”

“Piyali!”

Silent tears rolled down her cheeks.

“What’s wrong, Piyali?” he went to her and held her. “Come here,” he said when she did not reply and continued crying. He took her to the bench placed along one of the walls in his study. He sat down next to her. “Even if you thought that I was angry with you, since when did you start crying about it, huh?” The only reactions he had known to his reprimands were insolence and defiance from her. This was a novelty!

“I’m nervous,” she wiped her tears and replied.

“Why?”

“I have to go away from home.”

“Arr…” She had worked hard for it and gotten admission in one of the top engineering institutes in the country, the same one that Mukundo had also attended. Mukundo would never forget how she was literally jumping with joy the day result of the entrance exam was declared. It was he who had felt nervous. A new world was awaiting her. World of opportunities and the world of responsibilities and culture shocks. A world away from the protective environment she had grown up in. A world where she would grow into adulthood. Would she be able to handle it all? Should he talk to her, advise her? But everyone went through it. Most people coped. She was intelligent enough to be able to cope with it. He wouldn’t destroy the elation she was experiencing in the meanwhile. But now she herself was nervous.

“Why is my lioness nervous? It’s a dream come true, isn’t it, Pihu Rani?” he called her by her pet name in such moments of affection.

“But nobody would be there with me.”

“Silly girl. We all are just a phone call away.”

“Will you come to meet me? At least once a month?”

“Once a month?” his eyes widened. She wanted him to make a trip between Kolkata and Mumbai? Once a month? At least? He had a class to teach at ISI Kolkata. At least one every semester. Exams, grading and his own research. And then keeping an eye on family business and property.

“I am being stupid. Don’t bother…” she mumbled.

“I will come, if that’s what you want. But trust me, Pihu Rani, once you get busy with your studies and new friends and the hectic life, you wouldn’t have time for me.”

“That is impossible.”

He laughed softly, “We’ll see. But are you feeling better now?”

“You are not angry at me?”

“No.”

She gave a weak smile.

“You were so worried only because you thought I was angry?”

“Mukundo Babu. You know Protima Di, right?”

“Yeah.” She was talking about another girl from their neighbourhood. She was two years senior to Piyali was studying medicine in Delhi.

“She keeps calling her Ma, whenever she has any problems. Who would I call, if I am in any trouble? Baba loves me, but Baba is Baba. I can’t…” Piyali had lost her mother at birth.

“Piyali!”

“If you wouldn’t talk to me, who would I call, Mukundo Babu?”

“Pihu Rani. Do you really think I can dare not take your call? Am I not scared of my lioness? What has gotten into your head, you silly girl? Stop being so worried and nervous. Enjoy your holidays. Once you go to Mumbai and your semester starts, you won’t even have enough time to have a full night’s sleep. Understood?”

Her smile was more convincing this time and he smiled back at her. Then he ran his hand over her head once and said, “Get going now. I really have to finish some work. I will come to meet you and Kaku in the evening. Okay?”

She nodded and got up to leave.

“Piyali!” he called her when she reached the doorsteps. “Come here, once.”

She looked puzzled, but walked back without questioning. He held her hands and spoke slowly, “I… There is something… I wanted to tell you…”

“What?” Piyali was surprised to see him hesitating.

“It’s… Well… It’s an advice… and I know you don’t like them much. But… you are going to be on your own after this and…”

“Tell me, Mukundo Babu.”

He took a deep breath before continuing, “Piyali. This is the beginning of your adult life. And an independent one too. You are a grown, young woman now, Piyali. And a beautiful one on that. There will be boys and you will get a lot of attention…” He noticed her face coloring. “I’m making you uncomfortable,” he let go of her hands, “I’m sorry. You are an intelligent girl. You will know what to do.”

She nodded silently.

“Go now,” he said and sat back in his chair. It was more like a slump.

Piyali’s eyes were glued to the street as she walked back home on the familiar path. Mukundo Babu had been late in noticing that she was a grown, young woman now. At seventeen she had been getting quite a lot of attention for quite some time. Something that excited and terrified her at the same time.  She would have liked to talk to someone about it. But who could she talk to? With friends, it was always about pulling each other’s legs. She could never get around to talking about things that really bothered her. She didn’t have a mother or a sister to go to. Everything else, she would discuss with Mukundo Babu. About school, friends, teachers, competitions she won or lost, the cold-feet she always got before exams, the books she read and everything under the sun. But she hadn’t told him about her last fight with Sonali. How could she have told him what the fight was about? That her best friend thought she had ‘stolen’ away the boy she had a crush on? She hadn’t told him about the Mills & Boon romances she had devoured in last few years either.

To be continued

Unusual Places (Part 13)

Posted 9 CommentsPosted in English, Karishma-Siddharth, Original

“Life happens to us in unusual places, Karishma. I failed twice in marriages. I had to call up an escort service to find a woman who helped me understand that I was looking at women the wrong way.” She still didn’t look up. He continued, “And I am not the only one. You have also found your love in the most unusual place. In a middle-aged man, who has failed at least twice.”

When she still didn’t look up, he got worried. He gently lifted her chin up. “What is bothering your so much? There is absolutely no pressure on you; you know that, don’t you?”

“I feel like such a… gold-digger.”

“What?” he was surprised and then laughed softly, “Some people have a huge ego. You, dear girl, have a huge conscience. And troublesome one too, at that. But I think it is unfair if your conscience troubles come in way of my happiness, Karishma. Don’t you think so?”

“Mr. Sen…”

“Siddhartha…”

“Please listen to me,” she sounded miserable.

“Go ahead.”

“You have done a lot for me. A lot. I don’t want any more favours from you.”

“Unusual conditions too,” he sounded amused, “But what option do I have? I accept.”

“I don’t know what I am doing.”

“Me neither. But we will figure out.”

She smiled for the first time during the exchange, albeit weakly, “You have solved all my problems till now. I guess you will continue to have to do that.”

“Trust me that’s a man’s dream,” he chuckled.

“Mr. Sen…”

“Siddhartha.”

“Siddhartha…” she repeated self-consciously.

“Yeah?”

“Do you have some time now?”

“I have all the time today. What do you want?”

“Take me someplace. Someplace away from all the humbug. I am tired of fighting with myself.”

“You don’t have to go back to work?”

“Not today.”

He smiled, “Will you come home?”

“Home?” she looked uncertain.

“Nobody’s there. Don’t worry. No family, I mean.”

She nodded.

“Let’s go.”

Siddhartha led her to his bedroom and excused himself to go to the bathroom. Karishma ambled around the room and found a neatly arranged stack of printed sheets. “At the Fringes by Manthan” the first page read. She turned over. “To K. For bringing back perspective and inspiration in my life” went the second one. She smiled and put the pages back.

When Siddhartha came out, he found her standing at the window, looking out. She had taken off her cotton jacket and was wearing a sleeveless top. He realized that it was the first time he had seen her bare arms. He went up to her and held her from behind. He caressed her shoulders and planted a kiss on one. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“Karishma. It doesn’t have to be sexual, our relationship,” he said.

“Why not?” she replied.

“Why not, indeed!” he mumbled. He was no longer a client. She was no longer “working”. He bent down and kissed her shoulder again.

She turned around to face him. “But not today.”

“And why not?”

“I am wearing very plain lingerie.”

He was taken aback and then laughed softly on seeing the mischievous glint in her eyes. “So, you will do the lingerie talk and expect me to step back, eh?” He reached over her shoulders and pressed a switch. It drew the blinds on the window and the room grew dark. “The problem is solved now. I can’t see anything.” He slipped his hands inside her top at the back. “But I can feel every bit.”

“Why had you stopped writing?” she looked up from the book she was reading and asked suddenly. They were in a bookshop on a book-buying spree.

“My father decided to step away from business. He emotionally and financially blackmailed me into taking up his responsibilities. My first marriage, which was already in shambles, broke down soon afterwards. The peace of mind that it takes to create a fictional world and weave a story in it was lost. And so was the inspiration. I was annoyed with myself, with life.”

“Angst is often a good motivation to write.”

“Didn’t work out for me, I think.”

“Why the pseudonym?”

“When I published the first book, I didn’t want my parents to know. They didn’t approve of such wasteful exercises.”

“Interesting. These days it would almost be impossible to make a name for yourself, if you didn’t always show your face and stay in limelight. Only writing, howsoever well, doesn’t work. Anonymous and pseudonymous writing would be lost, unless you are writing something really scandalous. Like that fake IPL player.”

“Yeah. Our publisher is apprehensive about publishing my new book.”

“Really? They are crazy.”

“They aren’t. Things have changed.”

“It’s getting published, right?” she asked apprehensively.

“They will publish it, yes. They won’t say ‘no’ to me.”

“Thank God!”

“You don’t need it to be published to read it, Karishma,” he smiled at her.

“But I would like to hold a real book in my hands.”

“All right. You shall have it, whether or not they publish it.”

“How?”

“I will have one printed for you.”

She laughed.

“You know it is so good to see you laugh like this. Unburdened.”

“Thank you and thanks to you. I have been meaning to ask you something.”

“Shoot.”

“Had you suspected who I was before I had told you?”

“Karishma and Krystal, you mean? Sometimes I did. When I tried to put a face on Karishma who wrote me those letters, I often ended up thinking about you. The first letter had come soon after our first meeting. So, there were reasons to suspect. But somehow I didn’t take the idea seriously.”

“Hmm…”

“You had mentioned that you liked reading, but had never said anything about writing. What about you? Did you suspect?”

“Not even in my wildest dreams. The ruthless industrialist and the sensitive writer. Never!”

“Ruthless, eh?”

“That’s what I had initially thought of you. Did you fire your assistant?”

He laughed, “No. I have often wanted to. But I didn’t.”

“Thank God. Although now that I think of the envelope with address, it feels stupid that I didn’t suspect.”

“Envelope with address?”

“The first time I had met you, there was an envelope address to Manthan with a postbox address in your room. You had said that it must be that of an earlier guest and they didn’t clean the room well.”

“Ah! I had forgotten about it. So, that’s where you got my address from?”

“Yeah. Postbox address was easy to memorize, thankfully. Otherwise I would have cried out when you asked me to throw it in dustbin,” she grinned.

He smiled.

“You had been really wicked in Dalhousie,” she continued.

“Wicked?”

“Even after I told you who I was and you found me with your book, you didn’t tell me about your real identity. Or rather your pseudo identity of a writer. You had, obviously, made the connection, hadn’t you?”

“I had made the connection. But… I wasn’t sure how you would react. I was afraid of embarrassing you. In your world, your favourite author didn’t know anything about the part of your life you were uncomfortable with. I thought I would let it be that way. That’s why I didn’t even try to meet you later and focused on getting your book published. But I couldn’t stop myself from attending the launch function and got caught.”

“Thank God for that.”

“Yeah. Thank God for that.”

“There was something else about Dalhousie…”

“Yes?”

“I wanted to apologize. I had said something about your writing that was… It was audacious of me…”

“About the female characters?”

She nodded, “I shouldn’t have…”

“But you were right. I have been terrible in understanding or choosing women, Karishma. It reflects not only in my writing, but also on my life. My failed relationships…”

“No. You can’t take something I said about your characters to your heart like this. I am not an expert. Neither in writing, nor in relationships.”

“But I am,” he chuckled, “And trust me that you were more correct in your observation than you would ever realize. Anyway. I don’t think we are talking books any longer. If you are done, let’s pay and go to the café.”

She agreed and followed him to the counter and then to the café.

“Why me, Mr. Sen?” she asked after they had ordered coffee and food.

“Siddhartha.”

“Siddhartha,” she smiled sheepishly. She was still not used to calling him by name.

“I could ask the same thing.”

“No. You couldn’t. It’s a no-brainer. You gave me everything I needed. Money, of course. But even more importantly a dignified treatment.”

“I have told you how I felt when I first met you.”

“And why did you meet me again?”

“I think… I got curious. The curiosity of a writer, in a potential character.”

“Hmm…”

“Yeah. It was rather selfish.”

“Come on…”

“And then, slowly, I discovered something more alluring than just a character whose miseries I could portray in a story. I discovered a woman of substance.”

“Woman of substance?” she looked embarrassed, “You are joking.”

“I am not.” He paused and looked at her. When she continued to look unconvinced, he explained, “When you look at yourself, you probably think of a woman who tried to sell her body for money. But what I find there is a woman who accepted her responsibilities, and did whatever it took to fulfill them. She didn’t just whine and crib about her fate, while doing nothing about it. Try to see yourself with my eyes.”

“A liberal writer’s eyes,” she looked away as she mumbled.

“A liberal writer’s point of view isn’t always ridiculous or unreasonable,” he smiled.

“No,” she looked back at him and smiled herself, “I don’t know what would have happened to me, or my self-esteem, if I hadn’t met you.”

“Sooner or later, somewhere, somehow, someone else would have seen the substance that I did. But I would have been pretty unlucky in that case.”

She blushed and her eyes moistened. Siddhartha looked around and found the café rather empty. He lifted her hands to his lips and planted a soft kiss on each of them.

– The End –

Unusual Places (Part 12)

Posted 9 CommentsPosted in English, Karishma-Siddharth, Original

Dear Mr. Sen,

Thanks you for writing. Things are fine with me. The new job comes with a generous health insurance for family apart from a good salary. The publisher has told me that first royalty cheque will also be in soon. It seems that all your expenses on marketing of the book are paying off. I am only fighting an emptiness within myself.

Had you sent Akash to me? It wasn’t a good idea.

Sincerely
Karishma

Dear Karishma,

Did something go wrong? What did Akash say? I am worried. Please reply soon.

Siddhartha

Dear Mr. Sen,

I am all right. There is nothing to be worried about. It just wasn’t comfortable meeting him. I don’t know what you were trying to do. But certain things aren’t meant to be. And this one has nothing to do with you or with what I did.

The publisher wants me to write another novel. Is this also your doing?

How is your story or novel coming along?

Sincerely
Karishma

Dear Karishma,

Would you please call me Siddhartha? I haven’t said anything to the publisher about another novel from you. This is completely your own doing.

In couple of weeks, I should be able to send you a draft for my novel. Yes. I wrote it that quickly.

Love
Siddhartha

“Love” – that one word in the letter took her breath away. She clutched the letter to her heart and let a drop of tear fall from her eyes. She spent the entire week almost in a daze. If she did manage to maintain some sanity, it was because of a very important deadline at work, which was straining the resources of the entire company, Karishma’s included. By Wednesday the project had been handed over to the client. On Thursday she received another letter from him before leaving for work. The day was slow and leisurely. She read the two letters repeatedly. The latter one dripping with anxiety.

“Karishma. You are worrying me again. Why haven’t you replied? What is going on in your head?”

She remembered that Thursdays were his no-meetings days. He didn’t accept any appointments on that day. He would not be busy with anyone else.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am. But I can’t disturb him today. You must get an appointment,” his secretary was not relenting.

“If you would just ask him once…”

“I’m sorry.”

“Neha. Send these back to legal and ask them to expedite it. We need this closed…” Karishma forgot to breathe as she saw Siddhartha striding towards his secretary, who was also affected similarly. But she had a job to do. “Yes Sir. You could have just called me…”

But Siddhartha was no longer listening to her. Because he had noticed Karishma standing there. It took even him a few moments to find his voice. “Hi,” he greeted uncertainly.

“Hi,” she barely whispered back.

The effect seeing Karishma had on Siddhartha was not lost on his secretary. She had intended to tell Siddhartha that the woman was bothering her. Instead, she just stood there deferentially.

“Neha. Do I have any appointments now?” he asked.

“No Sir. It’s Thursday.”

“Right. Come,” he motioned Karishma to follow him and she did.

“What happened?” he asked as soon as he locked the door of his office behind them.

“N… Nothing. I… just… I just wanted to see you.”

“Karishma…”

“I know. It was a stupid idea. Actually I was going to go back. Unfortunately you came out…” she blabbered.

“Karishma!”

“It’s not good for you, not for me… I will leave…”

He grabbed her hand as she turned, pulled her back and before she knew it his lips were locked to hers. Unprepared, she was out of breath soon and had to step back.

“Give me you bloody number. I was going to call Bittu again tonight. Why the hell were you not writing?” his voice croaked.

She gulped hard and kept her eyes downcast. He softened as he realized that she was really out of her depth. “Are you okay?” he asked softly.

She nodded, still not looking at him.

“Aren’t you going to talk to me?”

“You shouldn’t have spoken to Akash.”

“What happened?”

She recalled and tried to reproduce the conversation as well as she could.

“Karishma. I was really shocked that evening…”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Akash. What can possibly come out of it? I don’t have any explanations and I don’t want to give any.”

“I didn’t know about your problems, Karishma.”

“It doesn’t change anything.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I had done whatever I had to do before you had come back. And then…”

“But you hadn’t done anything. You still haven’t, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“I met Siddhartha Sen. And he told me that…”

“That we haven’t slept together.” He had nodded and she had given a sardonic smile. “Even that doesn’t change anything, Akash. It was a coincidence that I went to him and he decided to not take me to bed. I could have gone to someone else. Or he might have decided otherwise. As far as I am concerned, I had made my decision. And I can see how uncomfortable it makes you. That’s fine. That’s not your fault. My mess isn’t worth your time, Akash. Move on.”

“Do you not feel anything, Karishma? About us? That evening in my apartment…”

She had thought about it for a moment – a moment of introspection. And then it had dawned upon her. “I’m sorry that I did it, Akash. I am really sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I wasn’t aware of what was going in my own head. I had gone to bed with you, because he wouldn’t take me.”

What she didn’t feel for Akash, she felt for Siddhartha. And that conversation had made her realize that.

“Why aren’t you looking at me?” Siddhartha asked.

She didn’t reply.

“Karishma. Thanks a lot for coming.”

“You aren’t angry?”

“I just said – thanks. I think that means I am thankful.”

“Why would you be thankful?” She looked up without realizing it.

“I had made a rule that I regretted. But I couldn’t have broken it myself.”

“I should not have broken it either.”

“Why the regret?”

“There was a reason you had made the rule in first place. It isn’t good for either of us.”

“What do you want, Karishma?”

“Excuse me?”

“Forget about all the complications, considerations, people, our history… Forget about all of that and tell me what brought you here today? What is that one thing that will make you happy?”

She looked at him with puzzled expression. “I don’t know what you want to hear.”

“I want to hear what I asked. What will make you happy today? Right now?”

“Spending time with you…” she managed to answer.

“Do you feel the need to get married to do that?”

She shook her head.

“Who we spend our evenings with is nobody’s business. Karishma,” his voice grew thick with emotions, “I have missed you.”

She downcast her eyes as tears filled them up.

To be continued

Unusual Places (Part 11)

Posted 12 CommentsPosted in English, Karishma-Siddharth, Original

“Really?” her eyes brightened up on hearing that.

“Really!”

“Wow! That’s… that’s so cool.”

“Come. Let me take you out for a dinner. If you have time…”

She smiled and blushed, “I always have much more free time than you do. Please don’t embarrass me.”

“Come then,” he got up and extended a hand to her. She took it. He picked up the two books lying on the table on their way out.

“Where do you stay?” he asked after they came out of the restaurant and sat in his car, “I will drop you home.”

She looked at him curiously.

“What happened?” he asked.

“I have wondered… all too often… And felt guilty… About us…”

“Guilty? About what? Nothing happened between us…”

“Yes. Does that make me more honest, or less so?” she smiled sadly, “Why did I take all that money from you? Do you want me? Did you ever want me?”

He turned serious. “Yes,” he said unhesitatingly, “I want you, Karishma. I want you a lot. I have found you lovely and desirable from the first time I had laid my eyes on you.”

“Then? Why not?”

“The first time I… I felt you were inexperienced.”

“I was not inexperienced.”

“You had other… clients?”

“Not clients.”

“With you ex-for-two-years boyfriend, then? In college?”

“Yes.” And after that too, she thought to herself as she recalled that evening in Akash’ apartment, but did not say anything about that.

“That isn’t the same thing. You were into this unwillingly.”

“But I knew what I was doing. I still know what I am doing.”

“You don’t have to do it. Not for money, not for gratitude.”

“What if… I want to do it.”

He fell silent and she looked away. Had she spoiled it all? She turned back, when she felt his hands on her shoulders.

“In that case…” he mumbled as he leaned towards her and met her lips. She responded passionately.

“But you know what,” he said after they broke the kiss, “If I take you to bed with me now, Karishma, I’d officially make you a prostitute. I don’t want to do that. I won’t do that.” She looked at him in astonishment. “Besides,” he continued, “You will meet people of your age. Someone will be the one – suitable to be your life-partner. This must not come in your way then.”

He grabbed his book from the back seat, took out a pen from his pocket, scribbled something on the book before signing it and gave it to her.

“Never look back,” it read. Tears threatened to betray her and she had to blink them back.

“My turn now,” he gave her book and his pen to her.

She looked at the book blankly for a while. What was she to write for him? Finally she did and gave it back.

“To you?” he was puzzled on reading it.

“If I started writing what all you have been to me – an inspiration, a mentor, a protector, a lover, a guardian and what else not – it would become too long and would still be incomplete. And if I started writing what I feel for you – respect, love, gratitude and what else not – that would be another long list. So, I guess you aren’t one thing for me. You are just… you.”

He chuckled to conceal how overwhelmed he felt. “Keep writing,” he said, “And now, tell me where you stay. It’s getting late. I must drop you.”

“Will we meet again?” she asked after the car stopped in front of her house.

“No,” he replied, “It will do you no good.”

“Can I write to you?”

“I’d look forward to your letters and your stories or next novel.”

She smiled, even as sadness washed over her face.

He leaned towards her once again, cupped her face in his hands and kissed her on forehead. “Good night, Karishma.”

“Good night, Mr. Sen,” she replied and got out of the car. She looked back once, when she reached the gate of her apartment. He lifted his hand in acknowledgement and drove off.

“Mr. Akash, isn’t it?”

“Yes Sir. Akash Malhotra,” Akash shook hands with Siddhartha. But he was puzzled. He hadn’t met Siddhartha Sen yet. How did he know his name? This was the first time Akash was attending a party his company had thrown for courting current and future customers.

“Siddhartha Sen. Good to see you here. So, you work for WS&G?”

“Yes. Mr. Sen.”

“I can see that you are puzzled. Yes. We have met. But in slightly unusual circumstances. Can we go someplace little more private? There! Nobody is there in the balcony.”

Akash followed him looking puzzled.

“I was with Karishma that night in the hotel…”

Akash looked like all blood had been drained out of his body.

“I know you were hurt. But please hear me out…”

“Why are we talking about that here, Mr. Sen? I don’t care and as far as I am concerned, I don’t know her.”

“Pardon me for sounding patronizing, young man. But I have seen a bit more of the world than you. You can say that you don’t care. But the hurt is evident in your eyes. I’m not trying to reunite you, or anything. But I think you have a shot at feeling better if you would just listen to me.”

Akash neither objected, nor agreed with him. Seeing him silent, Siddhartha continued and explained Karishma’s situation to him. “But what you would really want to know is that she hadn’t seen anyone other than me. And we didn’t sleep together. Never.”

If Akash had any questions, he was too tongue-tied to voice them.

“I don’t think she ever realized how badly it would have affected you. She just had too much on her mind. And not that you asked her either.”

“She could have told me before jumping into…”

“I don’t know why she didn’t. But I wouldn’t rush to judge a person.”

Dear Karishma,

I haven’t heard from you for quite some time. Suhas tells me that you have joined his company. Congratulations.

I hope everything is going well.

Siddhartha

Karishma let the phone ring. It must be a pocket dial. Why would he want to talk to her? But she was forced to pick up when the phone rang a second time.

“Hello,” she spoke uncertainly.

“Hello Karishma…” Akash’ voice was as uncertain and an awkward silence prevailed for a while. He broke it, “I was wondering… if we could meet once.”

“Meet? I don’t…”

“Please Karishma. Just once.”

“Fine. When?”

To be continued

Unusual Places (Part 10)

Posted 21 CommentsPosted in English, Karishma-Siddharth, Original

Dear Karishma,

It is time to make a confession. I write under a pseudonym. This isn’t my real name and apart from a few people in the publishing house, nobody knows my real identity. So, I can’t officially attend your launch function. But I assure you that I will be there in the audience. I’m sure that the publishers will bring some celebrity to the function and attract good crowd.

As the launch date nears, I suspect that you might be nervous. Don’t be. You have done a great job with the book and I’m sure it will be well-received.

All the best
Manthan

She scanned the audience as she fought her trepidations. Her brother was excited. Her mother couldn’t come because her father couldn’t be left alone at home. Among the other unfamiliar faces, who was he? People continued to trickle in even after the programme started. A representative from the publishing house introduced people on stage. They had indeed gotten couple of celebrity writers for the launch and it had ensured some audience. This was followed by the formal unveiling of the book. People talked about the book and she politely smiled, laughed or added a comment here and there. She read out a chapter from the novel. Her job as a teacher for almost a year now had improved her oratory skills and the reading was well-received. This was followed by a journalist discussing the finer points of the book with her.

“Some people might say that the character of Dadaji was not quite realistic,” the journalist said, “His actions defy any of the usual motivations people have.”

“Trust me, when they say that reality is stranger than fiction, they are right. The story is not autobiographical, nor is it real. But all the characters, their actions, their motivations are inspired by real life. If you really want to find a rhyme or reason to his behaviour, you can look at a little anecdote from his childhood which is mentioned at another place in the book. I won’t tell you what that is right now,” she chuckled, “But I hope that when people sitting here go back home and read the book, they notice it.”

“So, reality is stranger than fiction, according to you?”

“Absolutely. It is in fiction that we try to find rhyme and reason. Reality just is. It doesn’t obey our logic.” At that moment, her eyes fell on him. Wearing casuals, an amused glint in his eyes, his attention was fixed on her. They eyes met and she needed no rhyme or reason to tell her that it was him.

It took some effort to concentrate on the discussion after that. But she managed. Many in the audience were sufficiently impressed to want a signed copy of the book. When she managed to get done with all the formalities, she rushed out to look for him. But he was gone!

“Bittu. I need his number.”

“You know, I can’t do that, K.”

“You call him and tell him that I want to meet. Just once. Not for work.”

“That’s not right… Clients call us. We don’t…”

“You had broken your rule once when he had wanted to meet me on an off day, hadn’t you, Bittu? Break the rule once more!”

“Fine. Let me see what I can do.”

“Karishma. It’s so good to see you,” Siddhartha beamed at her. He was really happy.

“I have called you today,” She looked at the envelope he was discreetly offering her and chuckled, “I should be paying you. Unfortunately I can’t afford your time.”

He also laughed and stuffed the envelope back in his pocket.

“Aren’t you going to ask why I called you?” she said after a pause.

“Why?”

“I figured that you were not interested in a signed copy of my book. But I could use one of yours,” she held out a book for him. It was the same one he had found her reading in Dalhousie. Her favourite author’s!

He smiled, “So, you figured it out?”

“I have been rather thick all these days. But yes. Finally. I did.”

“Then you could just have written to me. Why did you take Bittu’s help?”

“Because there was a small probability that I had gotten it wrong. And if I had, I would rather be proven wrong before you than a celebrity author I had never met.”

Siddhartha looked at her for a moment, an amused smile playing on his lip. Then he motioned her to sit. “Come,” he said, “We will do the signing later.” He took the book from her and kept it on a table. Then he showed her a copy of her book that was also lying there. “I want my copy signed too.”

She sat on the sofa and he joined her.

“So, tell me. How have you been, Karishma?”

“You should tell me. Things have been difficult for you, haven’t they?”

He sighed and nodded, “Yes. Very difficult.”

“So? Was it indeed drug overdose?”

“Yes.”

“I am sorry.”

“I must have done something wrong with relationships…”

“You are being too hard on yourself.”

“Not really. You probably do not know, but this was my second failed marriage.”

“Still…” She grew thoughtful, stared at her hands in her lap and did not speak further.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she looked up and smiled at him.

“Before I forget, keep this card with you. Suhas is a close friend of mine. Runs a small advertising firm and is always on lookout for creative people – for copywriting. If you want to change your job to a better-paying one, give him a call and give my reference.”

She looked hesitant, “You’ve already paid for publishing my book, I think. Will you be indirectly paying my salary here too?”

Siddhartha frowned, “Who told you that I paid for your book?”

“Nobody. But a new, unknown writer doesn’t get this VIP treatment just like that.”

“I have helped their business through many rough patches. They owe me that much. And if I did make your book happen, it was because I thought it was good and should be published. I am recommending you this job only because I think it will suit you,” he sounded annoyed.

“Please. Don’t get mad. I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s all right. I am just stressed out. I am very irritable these days.”

She nodded and took the card from him. “You have been through hell, Mr. Sen. But you did not abandon me. If I am not thanking you for it, it is because I don’t know how to. If I could ever do something for you…”

“You have done that already, Karishma. You have inspired me. I think… I am going to write again.”

To be continued