Mish' Fiction

“Eloped?” Her eyes grew moist.

“I am so sorry, Smriti,” he touched her shoulder and she did not jerk him off, “I understand that all this must have come as a shock to you. But I am sure you want to meet your family, don’t you?”

“I… I don’t know. I must talk to Mou Auntie…”

“Mou? She was the one who had dragged you away when you were telling me who your mother was, wasn’t she? And she was the one who lied to you that your mother’s family does not live there. Can’t you see what is going on? I’d suggest you come with me right away.”

“You are a stranger. How can I trust you? I am not coming anywhere,” despite the emotional upheaval, she was careful. She was having her fair share of doubts.

“I understand your hesitation. And I am glad that you are not careless about your security. But you do want answers, right? See, there is this coffee shop in the market nearby. Hardly two kilometers from here. I am writing down the address for you. You can hail a taxi and come there. I will bring you father there.”

“What’s his name?”

“Vikram Jain.”

She took the address from him and nodded.

“Wait for me. It won’t take more than half an hour,” Srinivas said before parting.

—

“Smriti!” Vikram hugged her so warmly as soon as he saw her that Srinivas was impressed by his acting skills.

“Your father. Mr. Vikram Jain,” he formally introduced him and smiled.

Smriti was awkward and short of words. It was difficult for her to accept that all this was for real. “Do you have your wedding photographs,” she suddenly asked.

Vikram was puzzled, but reacted quickly. “Of course. Why?”

“Have you brought them?”

“Umm… no… But you will come home, right? We have been looking for you for so many years now. Your grandmother is dying to meet you. You can see the photographs there.”

“No. I want to see the photographs first.”

“All right. Let me call them at home.”

Smriti looked on blankly as he made the call. “I don’t care where they are stuffed Mummy… Yes, get them… Right away… If that’s what my daughter wants, that’s what she must have!” he added the last sentence for Smriti’s advantage, although the phone was already disconnected by then.

“It will take some time,” he smiled at her, “I am sorry. But you will understand that memories of your mother are hurtful.”

“Why?”

“Why? She is the reason you grew up away from your family. She deserted us and eloped with her lover…”

Something sounded extremely wrong with the accusations being made on her mother and Daddy. But Smriti didn’t know what an alternative story could be. So, she stayed silent. While they waited for the album, she received a call from Mou. She assured her that she was in the market, she knew her way around, and she would be back shortly.

When the albums arrived at length, she recognized her mother very well and tears started flowing down her cheeks.

“There, there. Don’t cry my princess. It’s all right. You have found your family back. Everything will be all right now. Come. Let’s meet you grandmother, cousins, aunts and uncles.”

Mou called again. Smriti was already at Vikram’s house by then.

“I’m with my father, Mou Auntie.”

“When did Prof. Sen come to Kolkata?”

“Not him. My real father.”

“Smriti,” Mou was alarmed, “What are you talking about? Who are you with?”

“Mr. Vikram Jain, my father.”

“Oh my God! How did you… Smriti, you must come back. Where are you? I will come and pick you up.”

“No Mou Auntie. I will stay here for now.”

“Smriti. Please…”

Smriti disconnected the call. Not surprisingly, immediately afterwards, she received a call from Siddhartha.

“Darling please. You must listen to me…”

“Is he or is he not my father, Daddy?”

“Go back to Mou Auntie. I will come there and we will talk.”

“Is he or is he not my father?”

Siddhartha’s sigh was audible. “Yes. Now…”

“Thank you, Prof. Sen. I have been deceived for seventeen years. Now let me find out the truth for myself,” she disconnected the call and switched off her phone.

Siddhartha broke into sobs. It was worse than his worst nightmares. Then he collected himself and stepped out to arrange for his journey to Kolkata praying furiously for his daughter’s safety meanwhile.

At Jains’ house, Vikram’s mother fussed over Smriti, making her feel uncomfortable with her overbearing hospitality. What made her particularly uneasy was how she was ordering around the women of the household as if they were indentured servants. There wasn’t a trace of respect or civility in her manners towards them. She didn’t get a chance to speak to anyone else in the family that day. After dinner, she was shown to her room by her grandmother. She also got her a nightie to change into and asked her to make do with it for the night. They would get her new clothes in the morning.

As Smriti lied down on the bed, her heart was in turmoil. She had expected a more positive resolution to the mystery of her parents. She had hoped that the story about her parents being her Daddy’s friends was true and some acceptable twist to it could explain the stories he had told her about Mamma. But this had taken a most unpleasant turn. Mamma had run away, while her husband was alive. To her lover? Daddy? She tried to be liberal. May be they were really in love and this marriage was not working for Mamma. But what could explain keeping the truth from her for all these years. Didn’t she deserve to know about her family, even if Mamma wanted to have nothing to do with them?

How uncomfortable it all was! But it was truth. And she had to accept it, even if it was bitter.

She didn’t sleep well that night. Her life had turned upside down. There was hardly a scope for peaceful sleep. Her room overlooked the garden of the house. It looked like a good refuge form the normal humbug of the big city. She got out of the bed at four in the morning and went to the garden. She walked around aimlessly for almost an hour, when an old woman suddenly came to her.  The way she had appeared out of the blue and her haunted looks scared Smriti. She recoiled from her.

“Bahu Rani… What are you doing here? Don’t you know they will kill your daughter? What did you come back for? Go away, go away….”

—

To be continued

Srinivas was representing Vikram Jain. Karishma’s mother had died. Her father, in his will, had left some property and money to her mother, which after her death was to go to Karishma or her children. Karishma was dead, and there were no children. Vikram was claiming that it should come to her legal heir, which was her husband. Her brother and cousins believed that property should go back to them. And a legal battle was on. Srinivas had been at Karishma’s home to try and persuade her family to give up.

The half-uttered word “Karish…” lingered in his mind. Could she mean Karishma? Who else could it be? But… He decided to find out more about the girl. He made a call to a private detective, whose service he often used to help his clients. It didn’t take him to long to find out where she had come from and who her father was.

—

“Mr. Jain. Did you dead wife have anything to do with Dharmshala?” he asked his client.

Vikram was startled, “Dharmshala? Why?”

“Just answer me.”

“She was in Dharmshala when she died.”

“Why?”

“Some astrologer nonsense. Why are you asking though?”

“How did she die?”

“Some poisonous insect had stung her.”

“Are you sure she did not die in childbirth?”

“Childbirth? What are you talking about? Of course not.”

“Was she alone?”

“No. Our old maid – Geeta – was with her.”

“Can I speak to her?”

“She is too old and infirm now. Still stays in our house, but has practically lost her mind. But what exactly are you getting at? She had died childless.”

“I’m not so sure of that. There is this girl from Dharmshala I met…” he showed him the pictures of Smriti that his detective had taken.

Vikram was disconcerted. Even after all these years, he could not miss the striking similarities in Smriti’s and Karishma’s features.

“What happened, Mr. Jain?”

“She looks so much like her… like Karishma, I mean. You said she is from Dharmshala?”

“So, my conjecture could be right.”

“It’s quite nonsensical. How can it be her child? She died in Dharmshala…”

“I agree that there might be things we do not know. It might all even be a coincidence. It might be that she is your wife’s child, but not yours…”

“Impossible,” his egoistic self won’t let him admit something like that.

“There are more queer things I have seen in my profession, Mr. Jain. My intention is only to help you with the case, and nothing else. Neither to malign, nor to glorify you family’s prestige. What will be of interest to you is that I met her outside Guptas’ residence. And she said that her mother had grown up in that house. That’s why she had come there. I asked her mother’s name. She said Karish… But Mou took her away before she could complete.”

“Mou?”

“Mou Bhattacharya. She is the editor of New India. I have known her for quite some time. Keeps meeting me for work.”

“Editor? As in she has been a journalist?”

“Yes. Why do you ask?”

“If I remember correctly, Karishma had a journalist friend by that name.”

“Hmm,” Srinivas was even more interested now, “If she is not your child, then we don’t want to waste time on her. But if she is yours, and still a minor, she can be your jackpot.”

“How will we find out?”

“Everything costs money. I did a little digging around at my expense, but…”

“Don’t worry about that. Whether or not it helps with the case, this mystery is worth solving.”

“We will have to get a DNA test done.”

“How will you get her sample?”

“Don’t worry.”

Vikram asked his mother to get some information out from Geeta about their stay in Dharmshala. But the woman would not say anything coherent. They were successful with their plan of DNA test however. With a little snooping around, they had a sample of Samriti’s hair the very next day. Srinivas’ detective managed to get it while she was shopping with Mou. The DNA test was rushed and the result surprised and shocked the Jain family.

“So, she had planned all this? She knew it was a girl, went away to Dharmshala and gave away the baby? Possibly died in childbirth? And what was Geeta doing? Was she also involved in the conspiracy?” They all wondered.

“We can’t know all that unless we find her adoptive father, who is not here,” Srinivas said, “But his absence is a good thing. Right now here is how things stand. The girl would not be eighteen. So, she is Mr. Jain’s daughter and a minor. She was given away without your knowledge. You can claim her guardianship, and get the property that belongs to her and…”

—

“Hi Smriti,” Srinivas found her in a park near Mou’s house. Mou was still at work; so she was wandering there alone. Used to the cool weather, pollution-free environment and vast empty spaces in Dharmshala, she was feeling suffocated in Kolkata. She was almost regretting extending her stay by two weeks. She hadn’t been able to find out anything about her real family. The city was so big and confusing that she didn’t even know how to go back to her mother’s house.

She didn’t recognize Srinivas at first and looked alarmed at being addressed by him.

“Looks like you have forgotten. I am Mou’s friend. Srinivas, the lawyer. We met near your mother’s house.”

“Oh! Hi,” she stepped back increasing the distance between them, recalling what Mou had told her about him.

“I think you came away from there. Why didn’t you meet your mother’s family?”

“They don’t stay there.”

“Why? Unless I am mistaken, wasn’t your mother Karishma?”

“How… how do you know?”

“I know your entire family well. And your mother’s family very much stays in that house. Were you told otherwise?”

Smriti was stunned. Srinivas liked the effect his information produced. This was just what he had hoped for.

“If that is the case, I think you do not know about your real father at all. Do you even know that your father stays in Kolkata and the man you call your father is not really…”

“You know him too? He is alive?”

“I know him very well and he is alive and healthy. And I am very happy that I will carry the good news to him that his daughter has been found. They were so anxious for you. They didn’t know where your mother had eloped with you, or who her lover was.”

—

To be continued

“Daddy. I have finished milk. A full glass of it. Mou Auntie. Now tell me the stories.”

“Sure. Come here. Or do you want to walk outside?”

“Outside.”

“She is fond of outdoors.

“Like both of you.”

“Yes. She can already trek with me on the nearby hills,” Siddhartha’s eyes tinkled with fatherly pride.

“Once your Mamma and I had a fight…” Mou began her story.

“You used to fight?”

“Yes. All the time.”

“But fighting is not good.”

“You can fight with friends. But you must make up quickly.”

“Daddy. You are my friend, right?”

“Yes,” Siddhartha grinned, knowing where this was going.

“Then I can fight with you.”

“But you must make up quickly,” Mou reminded her.

“As soon as Daddy brings me chocolate, I make up.”

Mou and Siddhartha laughed out loud, much to Smriti’s delight.

Smriti was still very active after they had come back in to the house. “Shall I show you Mamma’s photos, Mou Auntie?”

“Sure.”

“I recognize you in some of the photos.”

“You do? That’s very clever.”

“But Daddy doesn’t have any of their wedding photographs. He said they were destroyed in an accident.”

Mou looked uncomfortably at Siddhartha, who smiled helplessly.

“Do you have any photos of their wedding on your phone, Mou Auntie?”

“No sweetheart. I didn’t have a camera phone then.”

“How sad! I will bring the photographs,” she ran off to her room.

—

“It was really good of you to come, Mou,” Siddhartha said when she made to leave the next morning.

“Time flies, Prof. Sen. I had meant to come much earlier. But something or the other…”

“Make time now… I need a replenishment of Mamma stories,” he said jocularly.

“Don’t worry. She is old enough now. I will talk to her on phone and supply those.”

—

Another 12 years later.

“You have written so many exams. I’m sure you will get through one of them, darling. Must you go to Kolkata as well?” Smriti was done with her board examinations and was now writing entrance tests for various medical colleges.

“What is the harm, Daddy? Why leave anything to chance?”

“It’s too far. And I am not able to come with you.”

“I have been to Bangalore, Daddy. And Mou Auntie will be there to receive me as soon as I reach.”

“The weather is horrible. You are not used to it at all.”

“So it was in Chennai. Now really. You must stop making alibis and let me go, Daddy.”

Siddhartha gave up. He usually did, when it was only his feelings, and not rationality, that meant to stop Smriti from doing something. Because Karishma had wanted him to give her choices. But he must have a chat with Mou and ask her to keep away from Karishma’s families, especially her husband’s. The fact that Smriti had grown up to look so similar to Karishma made him even more uneasy on this occasion.

Smriti was so insistent on going to Kolkata for the same reason for which Siddhartha wanted to stop her. To find out about her true identity. She knew that her mother was from Kolkata. And a few months back she had discovered that Siddhartha was not her father. It had started in the biology class, when the teacher had told them about the relationship between the blood group of parents and children. Along with her friend Tanu, she had tried to guess her mother’s blood group. But she had realized that hers and Siddhartha’s blood groups were not compatible at all. If the father had Siddhartha’s blood group, his child could not have had Smriti’s, irrespective of what mother’s was. She had meant to go to the teacher, but Tanu had stopped her.

“I think I know the reason,” she had said.

“What?”

“I have overheard my parents… I think… you are adopted.”

Smriti’s first reaction had been of disbelief. But the proof was right before her eyes.  What should she do? Who should she ask?

“Please don’t tell anyone that I told you about this, Smriti,” Tanu had pleaded, “My parents hadn’t meant for me to know it…”

Smriti had gone to her old nanny. The woman was now quite old and sick. She had initially refused to say anything, but had finally relented. “Your parents were his friends and they had died in an accident. But don’t tell him anything, sweetie. He loves you so much. He has devoted his life to you. He would be heartbroken.”

Smriti could not disagree with that, but the question of her origins, her identity gnawed at her. She was particularly perplexed because all her life, Sidhartha had told her stories of her mother as if they were married. But if she was adopted, then where was her father? What were these stories? What exactly was her mother’s relationship with Siddhartha? She saw this trip to Kolkata as a possibility to answer these questions. Not only she prevailed upon Siddhartha to allow her to go, she also made her trip two-weeks long. “This is the last exam, Daddy. I can take a holiday,” she had reasoned, “And I am sure Mou Auntie doesn’t mind.”

—

Smriti had pestered Mou to take her to see the house her mother had grown up in. Mou had lied to her that her family no longer lived there and Mou wouldn’t know anyone even if they were there. But even if she could see it only from outside, she must see it.

While they stood at some distance from the house, someone came out of it. Mou was startled to see that it was a lawyer of her acquaintance. Not wanting to be noticed, she tried to hurry Smriti away, but the lawyer had seen her.

“Mou. Hi.”

“Hi Srinivas.”

“Hello,” he also turned to Smriti had greeted her. Mou felt compelled to introduce them.

“This is Smriti, my friend’s daughter. Smriti. Srinivas is a very famous lawyer in Kolkata and I often meet him for my work…”

“So what are you doing here?” Srinivas interjected before Mou could give an alibi to go.

“My mother had grown up in this house,” Smirit replied, before Mou could, “Since I was visiting Kolkata, I wanted to see it.”

“Is it? What’s her name?” Srinivas was suddenly more interested.

“Karish…”

“I’m getting late, Smriti. Sorry Srinivas. We must rush off.” She practically dragged Smriti away.

“What happened, Mou Auntie?”

“He is a creep, Smriti. Too bad I have to meet him for work. Else I would not want to even recognize him. Especially when I am with you,” Mou replied truthfully. She had assigned his unnecessary curiosity about Smriti to his usual sleaziness.

Although Mou did, in general, not want anyone to know about Smriti and Karishma, she hadn’t imagined that the lawyer would have particular interest in knowing about it.

“Why did you never marry, Mou Auntie?” Smriti asked Mou that evening.

“Because men are hopeless.”

“Daddy is not.”

“No sweetie. Your Daddy is not. But he was taken. What could I do?”

Smriti chuckled.

—

To be continued

The delivery was normal and Karishma was back home with the baby within a week. The time of real emotional turmoil was now

“I won’t stay more than six months. I shouldn’t nurse her. She’d have to survive on formula anyway.”

“Do it now, Bahu Rani,” Geet said miserably, “We will wean her off your milk in six months.”

“Sooner than that,” she replied firmly, but took the baby to her breast anyway, giving into her maternal instincts.

In the following days, the firmness with which she followed her plans for her daughter brought tears to Geeta and even Siddhartha’s eyes. Siddhartha arranged for a nanny within a week of delivery. After that she sent the baby with him. The baby stayed with the nanny when he was in college and slept with him at night. She met her only in the evenings when Siddhartha brought her with him.  She had also stopped feeding her within a month.

One evening Smriti was particularly cranky. Geeta’s heart went out to the baby.

“Don’t send her back, Bahu Rani. Let her sleep with you.”

“No Chachi. Siddhartha knows how to handle her.”

“He does. But how can you…”

“This is her life, Chachi.”

“Oh such monstrosity. Why didn’t you just let her die?”

It didn’t affect Karishma in the least bit. “I’m convinced, Chachi, that miseries are all mine. She has a perfect father and she will grow up feeling loved and wanted.”

“You know what, you go back to Kolkata after six months. I will stay here and take care of her.”

“That is not possible.”

“I don’t care for my salary any longer. Pay me whatever you are paying that nanny.”

“It’s not about money. If you stayed, she will forever be connected to that family. She will never be at peace.”

“Get a divorce. Marry him. If he agrees to be the father of your child from another man, he will be happy to marry you. Won’t your Siddhartha?”

“What do you think will happen if I ask for a divorce? On what grounds will I ask for one? Will they happily let me claim that they keep murdering their daughters and hence I want a divorce? No. They will put all their might in proving that I am an irresponsible wife and mother. They will take away my daughter even if they don’t want her and she will be miserable for as long as they will let her live. Fine. There is a chance that I will win. But can I gamble with her life?”

“Karishma…” Siddhartha made to say something.

“No. Don’t say anything. Take her away. She will sleep happily in your arms. Just remember to tell her when she grows up that her mother had loved her dearly. Go now. Please.”

She didn’t let even a drop of tear escape her eyes until she was in her bed. Alone.

—

Karishma fainted as soon as they reached her doorsteps. They had been out in the park with Smriti. Sprinkling water and other household remedies didn’t bring her consciousness back. And Siddhartha noticed her lips getting dry and black. He rushed her to a doctor.

“Poisoning.”

“Poisoning? How can…”

“It seems to be insect. We have given anti-venoms. We will have to observe for next eight hours.”

Insect? Siddhartha recalled that she had cried out once in the park. “Ouch! How strongly do the mosquitoes here sting!” It wasn’t a mosquito…

She did gain consciousness for a while, but the situation was precarious. “I couldn’t have subjected myself to the indignity of suicide like Anna, Siddhartha. So, God came to my rescue with this.”

“Shut up. Don’t talk nonsense. You will get well, get a divorce, marry me, and bring up our daughter. Do you understand? I have borne with your stupid plans for too long. None of that any longer.”

She smiled weakly, “I wish I could live that dream. But now the responsibility of keeping my memories alive for you must fall on my daughter. I don’t have to tell you to love her. I know you will do that. You are already doing that. Just make sure you do tell her about me. She shouldn’t grow up without any memories of her mother. Even if it is only through the stories… There is a box of photographs and other knick knacks at house. Please take it for her. And always allow her to exercise her choices. Bring her to me once, will you, please?”

—

Five years later…

Geeta had gone back to Kolkata after Karishma’s death and as she had promised to her at her deathbed, she didn’t try to contact Siddhartha. But Mou and Siddhartha had kept in touch. She was visiting Himachal for some assignment and was staying with them for a day.

“Are you Mamma’s friend, Mou Auntie?” Smriti quickly took to her.

“Yes Darling. Her best friend.”

“Do you want to hear Mamma’s stories?”

“Sure.”

“Mamma used to go to playground on Sundays. To watch Daddy play. And one day a ball hit her. She wasn’t paying attention at all. Mamma was naughty. Like me.” The child giggled.

Mou laughed, not because she found it amusing like the little girl, but to stop herself from crying.

“And one day, Mamma got lost in a jungle. Like the princess. Daddy found her and rescued her.”

“He did, indeed!” Mou smiled fondly at her.

“Did you know?”

“Yes. I was there too. We all were very worried for her.”

“Wow! Did you also get lost?”

“No, sweetie. Only your Mamma.”

“Will you tell me more stories of Mamma, Mou Auntie?”

“All right, Smriti,” Siddhartha interjected, “Let her have some tea and snacks. You also go to Auntie and have your milk. Then you can talk to her until dinner.” He sent her to the nanny. Then he turned to Mou. “She is obsessed with Mamma’s stories. Prefers them over her fairy tales and fancy story books. Probably somewhere deep down, she knows how much her mother had done for her. But now it has reached a stage that I think I will have to invent some stories. I have run out of them,” He chuckled.

Mou also laughed.

“Sometimes I wonder if her obsession in unhealthy,” Siddhartha continued. Obviously he had longed to talk to someone openly about Karishma and Smriti, “But then I think that I owe it to Karishma. That was all she had ever wanted. That her daughter should remember her. Even if only through stories.”

“You are doing the right thing, Sir. Smriti is very lucky to have you.”

“I hope so.”

“I wish Karishma was around to see how delightful her daughter is.”

“You know what, sometimes I think that God was kind to her. He gave her an easy death. Otherwise she would have died out of grief of separation from her daughter. You should have seen how hard she was trying those days to not be emotionally vulnerable… I myself was close to breaking down so many times…”

He fell silent and Mou leaned back, losing her in the memories of her dear friend.

—

To be continued

As per their plan, they went to a hospital slightly far from where Siddhartha stayed, and pretended being husband and wife. When the baby was to be born, the birth certificate would have his name as the father. So, she could stay with him even after Karishma left. Technically, it would be invalid, but who was going to question the baby’s parentage if Vikram and his family didn’t know about it. To his colleagues, he’d say that he had adopted a friend’s baby because they died in an accident.

The baby was due in six months. It meant Karishma would have another six months to spend with her daughter.

“You are still as interested in sports,” Karishma remarked. It was a Sunday morning and they were having breakfast at her house. He had come there directly after finishing his game of tennis.

“I had slackened off, to be honest. But now I am picking up again.”

“Ah! Why now?”

“Now there is reason to stay healthy and live long,” he smiled.

He needed to live well to bring up her daughter.  Her eyes expressed the gratitude she didn’t voice.

“You will tell her about me, won’t you, Siddhartha?” her voice was heavy with longing ad emotions. With his repeated insistence, she had grown used to calling him by his name.

“Yes. I will tell her just how accident-prone her mother was,” he joked, fearing that she was on the verge of tears.

“Shut up. I am not accident-prone,” she said pouting, and smiling at the same time. His plan worked.

Geeta watched them from the kitchen door and smiled. After her initial reservations at the situation had been overcome, she had given into Siddhartha’s charm. She often found herself wondering how different he was from the men she had encountered in the Jain household and how much better off Karishma would have been with someone like him. Last night he had stuffed the fridge with all flavors of ice-creams.  He had also brought ready-made gol-gappe and pani-puri masala. When Geeta had asked him what he was doing, he had responded so adorably. “She keeps having these cravings. It will be helpful at night. You can mix the masala with just cold water for pani-puri. Will you also keep some boiled potatoes in the fridge, please?”

“Chachi. Another Parantha, please,” Karishma calling out to her brought her out of her reverie and she went back to the kitchen.

The only time Siddhartha spent at his home these days was at night. He turned up at her house early in the morning to take her on a morning walk. Then they had breakfast. After college he was back again. They talked, read, went out, took a walk and he left only after dinner. He had also taken up all the hospital and pregnancy related expenses on himself. “If you want me to be a parent to her, you have to let me take responsibility,” he had told her.

“Ouch!” Karishma cried suddenly as they walked down a narrow, tree-lined mountain road.

“What happened?” Siddhartha was alarmed.

But she smiled. “The baby kicked. Ouch again. See, can you feel it?” He put his hand on her stomach and he felt it. His eyes grew moist. Then he could not control himself. He kissed her on forehead. “Thank you,” he said. She was going to make him a father!

“Thank you,” she replied emphatically, held his hands and they continued walking in silence, but smiling with contentment.

Initially he had tried convincing Karishma that she should do something and bring up her daughter herself.

“I am no more a fighter, Siddhartha, than Anna was a feminist. If you weren’t there, if I wasn’t sure that you would happily take her responsibility and give her all the love she deserves, then I would have fought. I would have had no other option. But right now… I am decided on it. I owed it to my father to help him fulfill his old promise. She owes no one anything. She doesn’t owe even me a justice. She deserves an uncomplicated life and unconditional love. That’s what I am trying to give her.”

“Karishma. There would be more children in future..”

“There won’t be. I will get an operation done…”

“But…”

“I don’t want to bring up a child in that family. Even if it is a boy, what values will he grow up with?”

Then he had given up. For his part, he was extremely happy at the prospect of being a father. He had started arranging his life around it. From relooking at his finances and savings and taking care of his own health to stopping visits to red-light districts! His life was not going to be devoted to her daughter. His daughter!

—

“Come here, my child. I made a mistake. Left you in a bad world…” Karishma saw her father calling her.

“But Papa. My daughter needs me. How can I leave her behind…”

“She is in safe hands, Karishma. Come with me… It’s so much better here…”

Karishma woke up with a start. What kind of a dream was it?

And it recurred. Almost every night with some variation. Sometimes she saw her father in it, sometimes her dead grandfather or grandmother. All her dead relatives seem to be calling her.

She finally told Siddhartha one day.

“I am going to die, Siddhartha. But I must deliver the baby safely before that.”

“Nonsense. You are fit and healthy. Doctor has said that there are no complications. Don’t be superstitious.”

“There is superstition and there is that premonition deep inside you. It’s different.”

“Stop thinking about it.”

But he had himself become worried. He asked the doctor to do all kinds of checkups and took her through even all the optional tests that the doctor saw no reason to conduct. Everything was normal.

Seeing him worry so much, she tried to undo the damage. “I haven’t had that dream in a while now, Siddhartha,” she said, lying. She had seen it that night too. “So, don’t worry about me.”

“Of course,” he replied trying to hide his embarrassment, “I wasn’t worried about some stupid dream, I already told you. I was just being careful. We must be.”

“Right. Of course,” she smiled indulgently, “And even Anna didn’t die in childbirth.” Why did the thought of Anna never leave her?

Siddhartha retorted this time. “You are, anyway, no Anna, Karishma. You are more of a Devaki, who sacrificed and suffered the separation from her baby for its safety.”

“Forget Anna. What will you name your daughter?”

“You are asking me to name her?” he asked, surprised, but not failing to notice her use of ‘your daughter’ and feeling elated at that.

“Who else will do that?”

“Then I will name her Smriti. She will embody your memories for me.”

—

To be continued

“I will be at the temple, Chachi. Don’t cook lunch for me,” Karishma told Geeta when she stepped out of the house. And she hadn’t lied. She did indeed spend the time until afternoon in the temple, while Siddhartha was at the university. After that she went to his home.

“I wanted to ask you something, Prof. Sen…”

“Karishma. You are no longer my student. Can’t we drop this ‘Sir’ and ‘Prof. Sen’? Just call me Siddhartha.”

She smiled nervously, “One doesn’t stop being a student.”

“Fine. One can start being friends? Or… just acknowledge the friendship that I believe already exists.”

Karishma felt happy and sad at the same time. “I’ll try. But it is also a matter of habit. So…”

“Try.”

“Okay.”

“You were asking something.”

“Yeah… That… I was wondering… Did you ever consider adopting?”

Siddhartha let out a sigh and spoke after a pause. “I did. I researched and came pretty close to… But then it didn’t feel right. A child should have a home and should be loved for its own sake. It didn’t feel right that I should bring one only to relieve me of my loneliness.”

“Will you… adopt my daughter?”

“Excuse me?”

“I sympathize more with Anna today, Prof. Sen. Sometimes circumstances push you to the edge… And I’m going crazy in my desperation to save my child.”

“What are you talking about Karishma?”

She told him about her predicament.

He was aghast as expected. “This is bizarre, Karishma. Don’t you… Wouldn’t you like to bring up your daughter on your own? Get out of there.”

“I have considered everything. I would have fought an ideological battle, if I were fighting for someone else’s child. My sister-in-law’s, for example. But when I think of this little creature, not even born yet, I don’t want her to fight for justifying her existence. I want to welcome her to the world like every child deserves and give her a loving home. If my family got involved, that will never happen.”

“Karishma. Don’t take it as my unwillingness, when I am trying to get you to explore all options. I just want to make sure…”

“That I don’t take a decision with which I have to stick all my life without really knowing what it entails. I understand you, Prof. Sen… Siddhartha. But I have made up my mind.”

He thought for a while; then said, “In that case, Karishma, let’s discuss some technicalities.”

Siddhartha had done his research on adoption earlier. And there were hurdles. She couldn’t give her daughter for adoption without his husband’s consent. Both parents required to make a decision. The workaround for that was to possibly leave the baby in an orphanage anonymously, from where Siddhartha could adopt her. But the adoption rules prevented a single man from adopting a girl child.

Karishma looked hopeless. She hadn’t thought of the technicalities at all. Siddhartha paced in the room, while she sat slumped on a chair. Suddenly he stopped and asked, “Have you already been to a hospital here?”

“No.”

“Then I have a plan. It might be as bizarre as the situation, but…”

“Anything for my daughter, Prof. Sen.”

—

“I don’t understand. What exactly have you come here for?” Geeta could not ignore Siddhartha dropping her home a second time.

“Sit down, Chachi, and listen to me. I have come here neither to do any penance, nor to find a lover. I have come here to save my daughter and I will do it.”

“What are you talking about? What daughter?”

“Don’t be alarmed. Again, it is not from a lover, but from my dear husband himself. Unfortunately he would do nothing to save her.”

“You are pregnant, already?”

“Yes. And with a girl child.”

“You had planned all this?”

“Yes.”

“Lord help me. What are you getting into? And what are you dragging me into? I could never have thought you are capable of so much deceit…”

“And I had never thought that you were capable of killing babies before they were even born. My in-laws never go there themselves, do they, Geeta Chachi? They always send you with the hapless mother to get it done in some shady clinic. Do you think God is not keeping a tally for you? Now is the time to do your penance. Help me save this girl and God might forgive you.”

But Geeta was worried for herself. “What am I to do… What will they do to me…”

“Geeta Chachi. Help me; go with my plan; and nobody needs to know anything. We will go back at the end of one year as planned.”

“How on earth in that possible? How can people not know such a thing?”

“I will tell you how…”

Geeta was still unsure after hearing the plan. “It’s just too much… too much…”

“Geeta Chachi. I am hoping that you have some kindness in your heart. And you will help me out of that kindness. But remember this, I am determined about it. If anyone questions my daughter’s right to live, I will question the entire world’s right to live. I will kill people if I have to. At the very least I will call police and hand you over to them. But don’t get me wrong Geeta Chachi. I am not wicked. I am just a desperate mother.”

Her determined monologue did mellow down Geeta slightly. “You have done a brave thing, my child. But I don’t know… If someone should come to know…”

“Then I will disappear with my child and you can tell them that I have run away with a lover. You don’t need to own anything.”

Karishma was prepared for that eventuality too. She had brought all her jewelry with her. That was her last resort to get money needed to bring the child in the world and to sustain herself for a while.

Now that she had enlisted Geeta’s help, even if with reservations, she was relieved. She called Mou and updated her.

—

To be continued

“Karishma. With what I know of them, my guess is that they believe in astrology.”

“Ardently. You see all these rings in all shapes, colors and sizes? Two years of marriage and I was still not pregnant. That’s why!”

“Were you having difficulty in conceiving?”

“No. I was taking pills. I hadn’t told them.”

“Hmm… That’s convenient. What if…”

Mou told her about her idea. Together they fleshed it out even better.

“Do you know any actors, then?” Karishma asked at the end.

“Better. There are people who help us in sting operations. They are real-life actors. Better than on-screen ones.”

“Mou. This plan has to succeed.”

“But tell me, Karishma. You are depending on Prof. Sen. I don’t know what you expect him to do. But whatever it is, don’t you think you should talk to him at least once? What if he is married, for instance?”

“He won’t have married.”

“How are you so sure? You moved on, why shouldn’t he?”

“It’s not about me, Mou. Don’t ask me be betray the secrets I know. Please. There are too many if’s and but’s here. But… I have to give it a try. If I call him… I don’t know… He or I may talk myself out of it. If I reach there… Something will work out.”

—

Jain household was in a commotion. The astrologer that has visited them on Mou’s recommendation had been quite brutal about it. It was some dosha in Karishma’s charts and she needed to do a penance for a year, if she were to get pregnant. And she had to stay away from the family. She must not see any family member in that duration. There were some conditions even on which place she should go to. After doing multiple calculations, the astrologer had zeroed in on Dharmshala.

“Dharmshala? Where is that… Himachal… Too far… Without family… One year… Impossible…”

Karishma had not known she was capable of so much theatrics. She had begged to her mother-in-law.

“Please Mummy. Please consider. Mou has sent him. She doesn’t even believe in astrology, but she said that this person has always been right. It has been two years. How miserable do you think I feel? Everyone asks me. At home, outside, friends… Send Geeta Chaachi with me. All I have to do there is pray and live religiously. One year, Mummy. Please.”

There had been extensive consultations. Even Karishma’s mother had been called. Vikram was not convinced at all. But, to Karishma’s surprise and relief, begging with her mother-in-law had worked. She gave her consent finally; then rest of the family also followed after that.

—

The door was open. Two students were there in his office, and he was engrossed in a discussion with them. She stood there silently for a while. She needed to ensure that she didn’t end up crying as soon as she spoke. At length, she felt tranquil enough to speak. “Prof. Sen.”

“Yes?” he looked up and his eyes remained glued to her for a long second. “Is that Karishma?” She couldn’t be sure what took him so long. Recognizing her; or believing that it was indeed she?

She bit her lips to control her extreme emotions and smiled through it. He turned to his students hastily, “Send me an e-mail. We can meet again tomorrow.”

“Yes Sir,” they left immediately.

Karishma walked in and shut the door behind her. He walked around the table and stood in front of her. “You look so different,” he said, his voice unsteady.

Instead of replying, she just went forward and threw her arms around him. He reciprocated without hesitating. “Oh God! Yes. I am so happy to see you. Really, really happy.”

“How are you? What have you been up to?” he asked when they broke the hug.

“Don’t ask me anything right now, Prof. Sen. I will tell you all. In good time. Right now… Oh – just don’t talk…”

“All right. What should I do? Where should we go? Right? First… are you with somebody? Do you have time now?”

“I am alone and have all the time in the world for next one year.”

“One year… one year.. wow!  Will you… will you come… home?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s go. I am done here for the day.”

—

Siddhartha continued to be edgy on their way to his home and was no better once they reached.

“What should I get you… Coffee… Tea… Damn… I don’t even know what you like…. I should have something to eat here…”

“Prof. Sen,” she chuckled and interrupted him, “You look as nervous as I was before Science exam in high school. What for?”

“What for indeed?” he grinned, becoming conscious of his odd behavior, “I don’t know. You have just thrown me off-balance by suddenly appearing before me. And alone, you say. You haven’t run away, have you?”

It didn’t escape his notice that instead of laughing at his joke, she pursed her lips and her smile faded away. “Not exactly,” she replied forcing the smile again, “But let’ not talk of my sob story today. You tell me. How have you been? What have you been doing?”

“I have been keeping myself busy. Teaching, publishing… I am even trying to write a novel.”

“That’s great. Tell me about it…”

He settled on tea and brought out some biscuits, as they continued chatting. He talked about his students, his colleagues, his neighbors and all the things he was keeping busy with. While the undercurrents of loneliness were obvious, she was happy to observe that he was wasn’t discontent with his life.

—

“Who was he?” Geeta demanded when Siddhartha dropped her at the house they had rented for a year in Dharmshala.

Karishma was feeling happy after a long time. She didn’t want to spoil her mood. So, she gave an evasive answer instead of confronting Geeta about it. “He was a professor from my college, Chachi. He now stays here. So, I met up with him. We will need to make acquaintances here.”

Geeta groaned in reply, but didn’t say anything. “Shall I bring dinner for you?”

Karishma had eaten with Siddhartha. But she didn’t want to draw Geeta’s attention towards him yet. So, she asked him to bring the dinner to her room.

—

To be continued

Karishma was agitated and unnerved. She spent the rest of the day with Mou. By the time she came back, Vikram was already at home.

“Where were you?” he asked dryly.

“I was with Mou.”

“You had some work?”

“She wanted to go shopping.”

“You should come back before six.”

“I’m sorry,” she said and picked up the shirt he had discarded on the bed to hang it at its place. “Have you had tea?”

“No.”

“Would you have it downstairs? Or shall I bring it here?”

“I will have it here. Bring yours too.”

Karishma sighed inwardly. It was a sign that he wanted to have one of his ‘talks’ with her. It was a routine whenever he got any reports of her transgressions.

He was combing his hair, when she brought the tea. She started sipping hers without waiting for him.

“What happened today? Mummy told me you were unwell. Still you went out?”

She wanted to reply coolly. But she felt a surge of anger swell within her. She burst forth sharply. “Damn right, I was unwell. Any sane person with a heart will be. There has been a murder in this family this morning.”

“Abortion till this time is quite common. You are unnecessarily being queasy. And please mind your language.”

His calmness while replying angered her even more.

“You know, as well as I do, that it wasn’t a willing abortion. It was the killing of a girl child.”

“When Virat and Malti don’t have a problem, why are you creating uproar?”

“What if it was our daughter?”

“It wasn’t.”

“So, would you speak up and stop it if it happens to our daughter?”

“We will cross the bridge when it comes. Now, you better behave yourself. You have been an absolute nuisance today. This is not acceptable. And don’t go around blabbering about it to your friends.”

“He wouldn’t do a thing, Mou,” she later told her friend on phone, “Bizarre as my situation is, I can only be thankful that I was warned in advance. I can’t have them know anything of my pregnancy until I know the sex of the child. To think that all this while I had wanted a girl so much!”

“You are not an illiterate, poor woman, Karishma. Whatever happens, they can’t touch your baby if you don’t want it.”

“Still, they can’t know Mou. Not until I know what I am going to do. Mou, will you please talk to the doctor and find out what symptoms I can expect in next four weeks. I must hide those from them. I can’t come out too often to meet the doctor.”

“I will do that. Karishma I was wondering…”

“Yeah?”

“Couldn’t you make up some story and stay with me for some time?”

She chuckled bitterly, “You still don’t realize that we married women are prisoners in this family, do you? If I have to be free, I have to run away. Bye Mou. Don’t call me. I will call you when I am alone. Do talk to the doctor.”

—

Karishma paced frantically in Mou’s room. They had just come back from the doctor after sex determination.

“You want to save your baby, right? I don’t see how you can do that if you are so stressed out all the time. Why do you give a damn about those people, Karishma? Get out of that house, that marriage, raise your baby; move on!”

“It’s not that simple. I can buy as much jewelry as I like, but I don’t have any money of my own. I can’t spend a single penny without explaining. I can’t start a job now. After the birth – yes. I need to think of something until then…”

“Go to your parent’s house.”

“I have thought about that, Mou. But that isn’t my parent’s house any longer.” Karishma’s eyes got moist.

“What do you mean?”

“Anu – my sister-in-law is not particularly fond of hosting us sisters… And if I go there with the burden of pregnancy…”

“What about the rest of the family? Your mother, aunts, uncles…”

“If you had seen what I saw the last time I visited them, you won’t recognize it as the same family, Mou. Anu is so disposed to making a mountain out of every molehill that everyone has just given up. She runs the house the way she pleases. It had never been like this before… It will be so much better if they just moved out… But the question of prestige comes in… They will rather tolerate her than let them live separately… They have their own share of problems, Mou. They can’t help me.”

“Stay with me, Karishma.”

“I will need your help at every step. And if I can indeed think of nothing else… But it’s just… And I don’t know if I can really do what I want if I stay in Kolkata… God! He was right Mou. I was too young then to take a decision that I will have to stick to for my life. I shouldn’t have agreed to marry in a family that made people keep such barbaric promises…”

“Who had said? What?”

“Prof. Sen…”

Mou looked at her sympathetically. Just to change the topic for a while, she asked. “Where is he? Still in Mumbai?”

“No. He had left the same year we graduated. He would be Dharmshala now. There was some newly created university. At least that was his plan. And if he hasn’t moved on since. We haven’t kept in touch.”

“Hmm…”

Karishma sat back in an armchair and closed her eyes. Mou let her be while she tried to rack her own brains for a solution.

Karishma stood up briskly after about fifteen minutes. “Mou. Would you search online to see if there is a university in Dharmshaala? See what you can find. Check the list of their faculty members.”

“You are looking for SS?”

“I’m going crazy, you can say, but please bring your laptop.”

In about five minutes they had the confirmation that Siddhartha Sen was at a university in Dharmshala.

“You want to call him up?” Mou asked uncertainly, “You think he will help you?”

“I won’t call him up. I will go with blind faith.”

“And do what? And how will you go? Will you run away?”

“No. Who will pay for my living there? And the baby? They must pay it. Why shouldn’t they? It is because of them that I am not working. ‘Women in this family do not need to work.’ I have to find a way of getting away from them without revealing anything and without being accompanied by any of them. And I have to do it quickly. I will start showing soon. Oh Lord! How? How?”

—

To be continued

“What happened?” Karishma was surprised to find everyone in the kitchen looking morose. Her husband’s family was also like the one at her home. Large, joint family. Almost all the women were in the kitchen. “It’s a girl,” replied her husband’s youngest aunt.

“What… what is a girl?” she didn’t understand.

The aunt looked at the family’s long time servant – Geeta. A surly woman who only spoke to Karishma with some kindness – possibly because her kindness rubbed off her.

“Come with me, Bahu Rani,” she told Karishma and beckoned her to follow her. Karishma, though puzzled, obeyed her wordlessly.

Vikram was the eldest child of his generation. His cousin Virat, who was next to him, had also been married soon after Karishma and Vikram. His wife, Malti, was expecting. She was about twelve weeks pregnant now and they had gotten a sex-determination done. The baby was a girl and it was going to be aborted.

“What?” Karishma was horrified, “Who wants to abort the baby? How can…”

“That’s the tradition of this family.”

“Tradition?”

“How do you think you do not have any sister-in-laws?”

“It’s illegal… They can go behind bars.”

“Who will send them behind bars? You? Me?”

Karishma felt nauseated and ran toward the bathroom. Nobody came to help her. She went upstairs to her room and lied down on the bed. She was too shocked to react to the news. It was Geeta who finally came to her.

“Won’t you eat something?”

“What happened to Malti’s baby?”

Geeta stayed silent.

“Geeta Chachi… How can they…”

“They don’t do it. They send me everywhere,” Geeta replied bitterly.

“You should refuse to go.”

“What will happen if I refuse to go, child? There are enough hungry mouths on this earth. I will lose my job and somebody else will do it anyway. But come now… That’s how the world is… You will get used to it…”

“The world is not like this,” Karishma cried, “Else how do they get women to marry their sons to. If everyone started killing their daughters… Why, oh Lord, why do they need to do it? If a poor family is worried about dowry and they do it… repulsive as it is, I would understand it for a minute. But what do they lack in this house, Chachi? Why…”

She sighed. “The daughters of this family brought too much trouble, too many scandals… Because of that Vikram’s grandfather decided… And since then it has indeed been peaceful.”

“No scandals, eh?” Karishma said with disgust, “Right. Because what men do is not a scandal. When women exercise their right to choose…” She recalled her initial attempts at romancing her husband. She had reached his office unannounced one afternoon with food she had cooked herself. The woman she had found in his office, he had introduced as his secretary. Karishma knew that wasn’t the case. She had met his secretary earlier. He had eaten in silence. Karishma had planned to have lunch with him, but she didn’t eat and he didn’t invite her. At the end he had said, “What men do outside home should be none of women’s concern. That is how it is. I don’t disturb your life at home. Do not disturb me at office again.”

“Eat something, child,” Geeta’s voice brought her out of her thoughts.

“I’m fine. I can fast for that unfortunate baby for a day, if I can fast for these demons ten times every year.”

“God is keeping a tally, Bahu Rani. It will punish them one day.”

“Would you not do anything, Geeta Chachi?”

“If I could, I’d do anything. But I have a family to feed too. And I can’t lose this job.”

—

After her sojourn at his office, Vikram had duly complained to his mother. After that Karishma could not step out of home without giving full explanation of where she was going. If she was meeting any of her friends, they were supposed to pick her up. Thankfully, Mou was in the same city and everyone knew that she was her childhood friend.  She called her up. “Mou. I don’t care how busy you are today, you have to pick me up and help me.”

“What happened?”

“Can’t talk on phone. When can you pick me up?”

“Right away?”

“Please do.”

Mou was working as a journalist in the city. She had, luckily, an off day and she came down immediately. Karishma briefly explained her family’s ‘tradition’ to Mou in the car.

“What the fuck… Karishma. There has to be some mistake.”

“There is none. One baby has been killed in that house this bloody morning.”

“Karishma. Are you pregnant?”

“I might be, Mou,” Karishma said and slumped back in the chair. She had missed her periods for long enough.

“And?”

“I don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl. I can’t tell my family yet. I have to find out first.”

“But what will you do if it’s a girl? They will have to be sent behind bars. I can help you with that… When they send you for testing…”

“Mou! I am right now on the path of becoming a statistics of sociology. The one that said that rich people are even more likely to practice female foeticide… I don’t care about social good right now, Mou. I first have to find out if I am pregnant and if so whether I am carrying a boy or a girl… And then I will see.”

Mou’s profession as a journalist came as a great help to Karishma. She had acquaintances in almost all professions. She took her to a gynecologist.

“You are pregnant, Karishma,” she confirmed.

“When can you determine the sex of the baby?” Mou asked.

The doctor looked uncertain. “This isn’t some kind of sting operation Mou, is it?”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Jiya. If I have to do a sting operation I will do it on her bloody family. So many people use it to kill babies. Please help us save one.”

“In another four weeks. But she should be on medicines and supplements already.”

“Write the prescription.”

—

To be continued

“Vikram is a fine boy, my child,” her father said, “You also know him.” She did know him although they weren’t close friends. And yes – as far as she knew, he was a fine boy.  She was also aware that despite all these years, the tides of the scandals had not abated. People still murmured about it, and marital relationships for the family would have been difficult. “The reason I am telling you all this today, my child, is that if you do not want this marriage, I will make sure before I die that nobody persuades you. But if you are fine with it… I will die peacefully. You would have kept the promise of your father and grandfather. And you won’t be unhappy. Once you go there, other good families would also marry their their daughters in the family. You will have good company and, of course, no lack of money or comfort. But I don’t want you to be under pressure… We’ll find some way out.”

Karishma was well aware of her boundaries. She had never expected to be allowed “love-marriage” or a marriage outside the community. What she had hoped was that she would be allowed to choose form those the family considered eligible. That was something everyone allowed these days. Now, for the sake of an ancient promise, even that little freedom was to be taken away from her. It was particularly painful now, after that intimate – not physically, but emotionally – night with Siddhartha. But she tried to think rationally. That would be an impossible dream. One, she wasn’t aware of what he felt. Second, choosing him would still mean rebelling against her family and causing a lot of misery to them. She wasn’t going to do that. Then what harm was there is letting her father die peacefully and agree to marry Vikram Jain? He would be as good as any other match the family would make for her.

“Papa,” she smiled, “Don’t worry on my account, Papa. If you think this is right for me, that’s what I will do. I will marry him.”

—

“Ms. Bhattacharya,” Siddhartha called Mou after the class, “Can you come to my office for a minute?”

She followed him knowing full well what he wanted to know about.

“Her father passed away. The day before,” she said even before he asked anything.

“Oh!”

“She was really close to him, Prof. Sen. Closer than anyone else in the world. She would be devastated.”

He nodded, “Thanks for updating me. When will she be back?”

“Not before another two weeks. Her project…”

“That’s fine.”

—

He saw her in the class first when she came back. Where had the luster and glow of her face gone? In barely two weeks, how could someone lose so much of weight and develop those dark circles. Mou was right. Her father’s death has hit her really hard. She was doodling on her notebook through most of the class, looking neither at him, nor at the blackboard, nor at any of her friends. Their eyes met just once.  Siddhartha felt that the tears that had dried out in her eyes would start flowing from his. There was so much pain in them.

She came to his office after the class, although he hadn’t asked her to. The silent invitation was understood.

“How are you?” he asked feigning calm.

She smiled weakly in reply.

“Come here,” he beckoned her to him and embraced her. She could not control herself and broke into sobs.

“It’s all right. Calm down. There is nothing to worry…” he soothed her with his encouraging words.

“I have another class now,” she said after she had calmed down.

“Come in the evening. We will go out of the campus and we will talk. All right?”

She nodded and left.

—

He listened to her for hours. She recounted every little incident from her involving her father. How he took her to eat ice cream out of turn. How he would make sure that her favorite dress was bought for her. How he helped her in studies. She broke into tears several times and he patiently comforted her.

“Don’t worry, Karishma. Don’t feel that you are alone. You have friends. I am there.”

A look of guilt washed over her face as soon as he uttered those words. She had been deceptive. There was something she should have told him first. Yes – it was necessary to tell that to him. Because what she had felt that night, what she had been feeling, but not acknowledging, from even before that, it was mutual. If it weren’t, what were they doing there? Why was he being her confidante in the moment of her emotional weakness?

He noticed her expression. “What happened?”

“There is something else…”

“Go ahead.”

She told him about the promise she made to her father on his deathbed and the story behind it. He was stunned by the time she finished speaking. What kind of a promise it was? It was as good as selling their daughter. With a “conditions apply” tag. But… And yet – she had made her decision. How should he react? It didn’t matter how he felt about it What mattered was what would make her feel comfortable. What did she value more? Her “feminist” choices as she called them? Or the emotional promise made to her father in his last moments?

She spoke before he could decide on his reaction. “You think I am a hypocrite, don’t you? Talking about feminism and rights and making such a decision…”

“Karishma. I am too old, and have seen too much of life, to expect it to be ideal.  The only question I would ask is if you are okay with your decision. Did you want to marry someone else? Or by your own choice…”

“It shouldn’t matter if I wanted to marry someone. Because there is no indication that he wants the same.”

“How would you know?”

“I would know if he would tell me.”

“Will that change you decision?”

She shook her head while her eyes moistened.

“Then what is the point, Karishma? Let everyone be at peace.”

“I would like to know… If I had a chance… At loving… At being loved?”

“You had, you still have, the chance of getting the world at your feet, if you reached out. What do you really want to do, Karishma?”

“There is nothing for me to decide now, Prof. Sen. I have made my choice. I will marry like Anna. Not for love. But for comfort; and for the sake of society.”

“But if your future is going to be like Anna’s, it’s better that you back out now.”

“No. My future will not be like hers. I have more control over my feelings and passions.”

“So be it, Karishma. And unlike Anna, your qualities are not just superficial, but in your heart. I can’t imagine a man who wouldn’t come to appreciate them. You will find happiness.”

She smiled trying to feel hopeful.

“Is the wedding date decided?” he asked.

“Won’t be until next year. After Papa’s death, they will wait for at least one year.”

“You would have finished your degree by then.”

She nodded. Then said resolutely. “And for Papa’s sake, I have to do well, Prof. Sen. I have missed so much in this semester. I have to make up…”

“Don’t worry,” he smiled at her, “I have just learned from someone how her father helped her catch up with studies when she had fallen ill with jaundice. I think I can use a lesson or two from there.”

She gave a disarmed smile. She had just told him that story. He would help her do well.

—

To be continued