Mish' Fiction

What had surprised him most was how she understood his pain. Most people, including his friends, thought that he should be happy to inherit a business that was doing well and hence gave him a financially comfortable life. But she knew better. “You can find someone to run this business for you in few years and then go for your studies, can’t you Mukundo Babu?” she had asked, looking hopeful.

“No Piyali. It would be too late. Maths is… a young man’s game. I would be too old and weary in few years.”

“That’s not true,” she had frowned innocently, “All our Maths teachers are old. Much older than you would be in few years.”

“I can teach you Maths till well into my old age, Piyali. But Maths research… Forget it. Have you finished your homework?”

“Not yet.”

“Do it then.”

“I will do it later.”

“No. You will leave it and then we will have another complaint in your school diary.”

“It’s the same thing again, Mukundo Babu…”

“And if you don’t practice those problems, you won’t remember them for the exams. Come now…”

“I hate you, Mukundo Babu.”

“Sure. You do.”

She was a bright child. But Mukundo worried for her because of lack of guardianship from early age. Despite Mukundo’s informal supervision of her studies and well-being, as well as of their property and financial affairs, on a day to day basis, she was the mistress of the house. With her father behaving more like a child than her, that was inevitable. And it was building an arrogance and overconfidence in her that could do her harm. She mistook her intelligence for her wisdom.

“You must study well, Piyali. You have to get a good job and make a good career.”

“Hmm…”

“I am serious.”

“I will marry somebody rich,” she said to just to rile him up.

“Nobody wants to marry a girl these days, who isn’t working.”

“You are talking about yourself. You are miserly enough to grudge having to support your wife.”

“I would certainly not marry a girl who does nothing but sits around in the house demanding jewelry and wasting time with parties.”

“You would marry no one, I am sure of that. But don’t worry. I won’t marry either. I was only joking. I am smart enough to earn my livelihood.”

“Smart enough to earn. Not wise enough to choose right,” he mumbled under his breath, but she either hadn’t heard him, or had chosen to ignore it.

What he was worried about was her being increasing thick with the new girl in town – Saina. The city girl, whose professed career goal was to become a model and an actress. Piyali’s association with her was reflecting in all sorts of disturbing ways. Her already distracted nature was even more distracted from her studies. She would sometimes cut her music practice short to go shopping with Saina. Her walk back from school had decidedly gotten longer and at least once or twice he had spotted the two of them in their school uniforms in the market. Given that it was crucial year, when she would be writing her board exams, Mukundo was particularly uneasy.

“There is Mukundo,” Mr. Banerjee looked relieved to see him as he entered for his evening tea as usual, “Can’t he drop you?”

“Come on, Baba. Doesn’t he have anything else to do other than chauffeuring me around?” Piyali sounded annoyed, quite unlike herself.

“What’s going on?”

It turned out that driver hadn’t come that day and Piyali had to go to a friend’s place for a party. She was insisting upon riding her cycle for the purpose and that was unacceptable to Mr. Banerjee. “It would be dark by the time she comes back. What if she doesn’t notice a pothole or something? She can fall and hurt herself.”

Anybody else in his place would worry more about what if she met some rogues on the streets after dark, but Mr. Banerjee’s thoughts were completely occupied by people’s physical safety from diseases and accidents than anything else. Mukundo suppressed a smile and offered to drop her and pick her up back once the party was over.

“Where do you have to go?” he asked finally.

“But Mukundo Babu. You don’t have to…”

He pulled her aside and spoke in a hushed tone, “What is the point of getting Kaku upset? Do you have any problem in going with me?”

She just pursed her lips in response and did not say anything. Mukundo found her behavior odd, but could not figure out a reason behind it.

“When do you have to go?”

“We have time for tea.”

“All right. Get ready after that.”

Mr. Banerjee left for his walk after tea, while Piyali went to her room to change.

His eyes bulged on seeing her come out of the room wearing a short skirt ending just above her knees. He shook his head, when he found his bearings back.

“What on earth are you wearing?”

“What’s wrong? It’s a pretty dress.”

“Since when did you start wearing this stuff? Go change it and wear something less ridiculous.”

“Mukundo Babu!”

“Go. Now!”

She turned on her heels to obey him, even as her eyes brimmed over.

He felt guilty when she came out next. She had worn one of her usual jeans and t-shirts. She had gone too plain for a party.

He tried to make amends. “Why don’t you wear that pink dress you had bought for your birthday?”

“It had gone for dry cleaning,” she said dryly.

“What about that purple top…”

“I am already too late. If we are not leaving immediately, I might as well drop the idea of going there.”

He sighed. He had hurt her. He decided to leave the reconciliation for later. He himself needed to think through his reaction. Did he have to react so harshly?

“You are going to Saina’s house?” he tried to sound casual, when she told her where she had to be dropped.

“If you think I shouldn’t, you can turn around right away.”

“Piyali… I’m not…” he didn’t complete his sentence as he found her deliberately turning her head to look out of the window. ‘Take a deep breath, and think about it later,’ he told himself.

“I will wait at the club. Call up at their coffee shop, when you are done and I will be here in fifteen minutes.”

She nodded and went in.

—

To be continued

She continued crying even after she was seated on the ground and it was ascertained that neither of them were hurt. He assumed that she was shocked and afraid. “It’s okay, Piyali. Calm down. You are all right. Safe…”

“You… your…”

“I am fine too. See. Not a scratch. I was careful, when I pulled you off.”

“I mean… your motorcycle…” she managed to speak through her sobs.

“Motorcycle? Oh!” he had completely forgotten the fate of his beloved vehicle. His heart sank for a moment when he saw its pitiable condition. Its engine was still running, but Mukundo wasn’t sure it could carry them back.

“I’m so… so… sorry, Mukundo Babu. I just blacked out. I couldn’t… Oh God! You are angry… You won’t talk to me…”

She had guessed it right. If it were anybody other than her who was responsible for that condition of his bike, Mukundo Thakur wouldn’t have talked to the person for rest of their lives, and done much worse than that, but… The one time he had acted on his threat of not talking to her, when she had eaten ice cream before her music exam despite him warning her against it, she had been so miserable that it had come to her father’s attention and he had had to intervene, with his frail nerves and all! Mukundo had vowed never to do that with her again, irrespective of how much she tested his patience. And this time he was feeling as guilty as she was.

“Calm down, Piyali. It is a bike, a machine. It can be fixed. What is important is you are safe. I have myself pulled a stint for which I shouldn’t talk to myself… Pulling you off a running bike like that. But… I couldn’t think of anything else. Come, Piyali. Let’s go home. Oh wait… How will we go… I will call the driver… He will bring the car…”

“The motorcycle?”

“It will have to go to Kolkata for servicing. I will find the number of the service center. Hope they can pick it up today itself.”

“Kolkata?”

“Yes. I can’t give it here. To people servicing Bajaj’s and scooties! Can’t imagine what they would do to this Harley Davidson…”

“I’m sorry, Mukundo Babu.”

“Stop saying that.”

“Not a word to Baba,” she reminded him as they got down at her home.

“Not a word…”

“I wish he wasn’t so nervous about everything… I wish I knew how to reassure him…” she started saying, but her voice trailed away.

“Piyali!” his voice was thick with emotions, “You are a good daughter. Nobody could do more for him than you do.”

—

“Your Maths journals, and sadness again!” her voice broke Mukundo’s reverie. He was in his library.

He smiled at her, “Not sadness, Piyali. Thoughtfulness. I like poring over them, and thinking them through.”

“Don’t they remind you of lost dreams?” She sauntered in and made herself comfortable in a chair opposite him.

“They are the closest I can be to my dreams.”

“Hmm… There are some books in your library that I have noticed… Can I borrow them?”

“Books? You? Wow! Of course, you can borrow them. You can steal them if you want. If there are books you want to read… Which ones?”

“I read enough of Sharat Chandra and Robi Thakur to Kaki,” she said, “So not those.” Mukundo smiled. Piyali spent several hours on weekends with his mother, who never talked, but clearly loved being read to.

She ambled through the aisles and was back with two books in no time. “These for the time being.” She must have marked them out for reading earlier. They were travelogues. Closest she could be to her dreams. Of travelling far and wide. She didn’t voice it often. For the fear of upsetting her father. But he knew.

“Kolkata Book Fair is round the corner. I will get you more such books from there.”

“That’d be great. Are you coming home? It’s tea time almost.”

“Yeah.”

Unless something pressing came up, Mukundo always had his evening tea with Piyali and her father. Then he stayed on for couple of hours. Sometimes practicing music with Piyali, sometimes helping her with her homework, and sometimes just engaging Mr. Banerjee in a conversation so that she could have time for herself.

Once a month, he went to Kolkata. He met up with his friends at the university, got the latest copies of Maths journals from them, bought some gifts for Piyali, any medicines for his mother and her father, which were not available in Haldia, and books for his library.

Studying Maths had been his dream. And initially there hadn’t appeared any difficulties in pursuing it. His father’s business in the port town of Haldia was prospering. He fully supported his son when he didn’t want to join business, instead pursue academics. After finishing his undergraduation, Mukundo was trying to decide where to go for his Masters and Ph. D. He had to choose between ISI Kolkata and couple of offers from American universities. But the disaster struck before he could make his decision. His father died in an accident. Mr. Thakur had the long term plan to put in place a professional management in his business. But no work had yet started in that direction. He was expecting to have many years to achieve the goal, which were snatched away suddenly by a stroke of fate. His death had another disastrous consequence. Mukundo’s mother never got over the shock and became withdrawn. She would neither speak, nor laugh, nor cry. She would also not step out of the house even to see the doctor.

These circumstances meant that Mukundo could not leave the town. He also had to take over the business he had never intended to involve himself with. Depression would have washed over him, but for one person in his life. Nine-year-old Piyali.

She had been more unfortunate than even him with the life and health of her parents. Her mother had died when she was six. Her death was a result of a road accident followed by internal injury and infection that went undiagnosed. Mr. Banerjee had been a nervous sort of man even before that. But this accident had spun his hypochondria and fear of traveling out of control. It had created a situation where instead of him parenting Piyali, she had to adopt that role at a very tender age. Thankfully, as their neighbor and family friends, Mukundo and his parents had stepped in to take care of the child and also help her cope with her father’s condition. But in the aftermath of his own father’s death, which left even his mother incapable of shouldering any parenting responsibilities, Mukundo had become Piyali’s de-facto guardian. This was the only responsibility that he did not grudge. The young girl had been his friend anyway and having her around pleased and calmed him like nothing else.

—

To be continued

“What the hell, Piyali? Who had asked you to learn cycling? You have a driver and a car at your beck and call. Why do you need to hurt yourself like this?” Mukundo was furious with her as he helped her get up.

“I am already hurt and crying,” she complained through her tears, “Don’t scold me and make my cry more.”

“Right… Thankfully I have brought my car. Come, I will take you home.”

“The bicycle…”

“I will leave it at Girdhar’s and have it picked up later. Come now… There should be a band aid in the car’s first aid kit… You are incorrigible…”

“Mukundo Babu!!”

“All right, all right. Let’s go…”

Piyali lifted her jeans up to her knee with some difficulty. Mukundo winced at her scraped knee.

“You need to be grounded,” he mumbled angrily.

“It’s not that bad…”

“You would know the day you catch tetanus or something,” he warned as he washed the wound with water kept in his car. Then he put a band aid.

“Ouch!” Her knees hurt as she tried to walk into her house.

“Let me help you,” he rushed to support her.

“No. Baba must not know that I am hurt. He would be beside himself…”

Mukundo smiled fondly at her. She was worried not for herself here, he knew. She wouldn’t mind some scolding coming her way. But her hypochondriac father will be so distressed that he will keep the entire household on its toes, and make himself most miserable of all.

But she winced as she took another step and the old servant Binoy happened to come to the doorway just then.

“Oh my God! Pihu baby, what has happened?”

“She’s just a little hurt, Binoy…”

“Hurt? How? Cycling again? With those rowdy kids?”

“Hush…”

But it was too late. Mr. Debendra Banerjee had already heard the commotion was there. “What happened? How are you hurt? Should we take you to a doctor?

“It’s nothing, Baba…”

“How do you know it’s nothing until the doctor has seen you. You are delicate, Shona. We must not take any chances…”

“I have put a band aid, Kaku. She fell from the bicycle and scraped her knees a little, that’s it…”

“Bicycle? Why on earth were you riding a bicycle? Where is the driver…”

“I was learning, Baba!”

“Nonsesne. There is no need to learn if you hurt yourself…”

“That won’t do, Kaku,” Mukundo surprised Piyali by his intervention on this, “She must learn. She can’t remain a baby all her life. And everyone falls once in a while.” Hadn’t he voiced exactly the same objection himself? Now he was defending her before her father? Well… That was just like Mukundo Babu, the fifteen-year old barely suppressed a mischievous smile. But her father still needed to be diverted. He was still arguing with Mukundo. If there was one thing that consumed him more than the concern for Piyali’s health, it was his own health.

“Baba. Isn’t it time for your tea and evening walk? Binoy Da. Please drop everything else and bring us tea. And also his walking-stick. He must not walk without the stick. It puts too much pressure on his ankles, which was sprained so badly just last year…”

And before anyone had any opportunity of referring her hurt knee again, Mr.  Banerjee was fed his tea and was on his way towards the park with his walking-stick.

“So, you will never spare a chance to scold me, even when you think what I did was not wrong?”

“What I think is that you shouldn’t try to learn with those still-in-nappy kids, who can barely hold themselves straight, let alone help you with a tripping bicycle.”

“They are my friends and none of the are in nappies, for God’s sake. And didn’t you yourself say that everyone falls once in a while?”

“If they have a bad teacher.”

“I am doing with whatever teachers I can manage. Who else will teach me otherwise? Binoy Da himself doesn’t know how to ride a cycle. Baba doesn’t have the heart to teach me. And you do not have the time or patience.”

“It is unlikely that others will be able to overcome their handicap. So, I guess I must overcome mine.”

“You… will… teach… me?” she asked cautiously.

“What option do I have?”

“Hmm…”

“What?”

“You aren’t as bad-tempered and grumpy as you appear sometimes. I think people are right. You need to get married,” she grinned at him.

“Get married? What does that have to do with anything?”

“If you don’t get married, people say, you would grow into a grumpy, lonely old man. Of course nobody thinks you are that right now. But I can see the signs already.”

“You can? I must grab the next woman I can find, and marry her then?”

“But you probably shouldn’t marry after all.”

“Why this change of mind?”

“If you got married, you won’t have much time for us – me and Baba.”

“What a selfish girl you are, Piyali.”

She looked up at him startled, but saw only amusement in his eyes. So, she grinned in response.

“And what will happen when you are married and gone off? What will I do for company?”

“I am not going to get married. How lonely Shalu Di’s Baba is since she got married. He misses her so much. I can’t leave Baba like that.”

“She knew that. But she got married anyway.”

“She was the sort who should get married. She’d be unhappy otherwise.”

“And you won’t be?”

“Absolutely not.”

“We’ll see.”

“Whenever you have believed me!” she pouted and Mukundo playfully ruffled her hair.

—

“I must also learn how to ride a motorcycle.”

“Motorcycle? You are not old enough to have a license. And what do you need to ride a motorcycle for?”

“Whatever you need to ride a motorcycle for. And I must learn now so that when I am old enough to get a license, I can get one quickly.”

“Piyali. Bicycle is enough. And you can get a scooter if you must…”

“Motorcycle! Your motorcycle!” she put her foot down.

He managed to teach her how to ride a cycle and did not let her get hurt again as he had promised. Motorcycle would pose more problems though. The clutch and gear were more than she could handle. And she wasn’t even patient with it. If she could have her way, she would have driven on the highway on her very first day.  But as it happened, she got confused the first time she tried to drive on her own in an open field.

“Piyali… Clutch and brake. Clutch and brake…” Mukundo shouted, but she was nonplussed and could not act on his advice. He would not recall later what possessed him and how he pulled off the stunt he did, but he ran to her and pulled her off the motorcycle. Both of them fell, but she fell on top of him and was safely cushioned from any impact against the ground.

—

To be continued