Mish' Fiction

“Does it sound mean when I say that I am happy my mother has left?”

“Yes, it does,” Piyali grinned at Mukundo as they drove back from the airport after dropping Mohima for her flight back to Kolkata.

“She will forgive me when she knows why.”

“I hope so.”

“It will be awkward, Piyali, I agree. But everyone will be happy at the end. You don’t worry.”

“I am not worrying, Mukundo Babu,” she replied with a sincere smile, “You have said you would take care of it and I trust you.”

“Thank you,” his smile threatened to expand to a grin and even a laughter.

They got a takeout meal on their way and ate it while sprawled next to each other on the carpet.

“Mukundo Babu,” Piyali said snuggling up closer to him after they finished eating.

“Hmm?” he sounded relaxed and lazy.

“You remember when that day you told me about how it was in my childhood and how you regretted letting go of our friendship?”

“Yes. What about it?” he grew attentive.

“I just wanted you to know that…”

“Go on.”

“That my feelings for you today is not about clinging to some childhood obsession. It is an adult choice. For the life of mine I can’t get into the head of ten-year-old me and figure out what she was thinking then. But today what I am thinking and feeling is very real. And I think it would have happened even if I had met you only after growing up. What I mean is that I like you for what I see in you as an adult. It isn’t the simplistic adulation of a child for a grown-up.”

“Auditing too many psychology courses, are you?” Mukundo chuckled.

Her face fell. “I’m not joking–”

“I know,” he turned somber, “And don’t be misled by my jokes. I understood exactly what you are trying to say. Truth is that I hadn’t thought about it. I was too busy being happy. But I really appreciate that you thought and that you shared it with me. Piyali. I am afraid I am going to say it far too often in the days to come. Because you will keep doing these thoughtful things. But why not? I am happy to say it. My esteem and appreciation for you has risen even further. And I promise that I will do everything I can to ensure that you don’t regret your adult choice.”

“Thank you,” she mumbled into his chest.

“Even on that day, Piyali, I was sure that your feelings are mature and totally adult,” he said teasingly, “But do you know what was really child-like about you?”

“What?”

He shifted and held her so that he could look into her face and replied smilingly, “The way you shied away from the kiss. As if you have never been–” He stopped short on seeing her face and then exclaimed, “Oh my God! You indeed have never been kissed.”

She looked away, baffled and embarrassed.

“How on earth did you manage to keep away the guys, Piyali? It would have been a struggle.”

“Mukundo Babu, please! I am no diva. Stop embarrassing me.”

“Hey! Look here,” his playfulness disappeared as he held her chin and made her look at him, “You can’t be embarrassed about anything before me, Piyali. We are going to live our lives together now and we share everything. Everything. Do you understand?”

His voice, his touch and his certitude had her heart thumping. She closed her eyes, certain that the long-due kiss was coming, and eager for it despite her nervousness. But she felt Mukundo’s hand withdrawing from her chin. As she opened her eyes, he saw that he was looking at her hands. He held them lifted them to his lips one by one. She felt a shiver down her spine, and this time she knew exactly why.

“You are not a diva, Piyali. You are a princess, who knows that she is born to rule the world and she will.”

The intensity of their passion was sky-rocketing and she knew that it was not yet the time to drown in it. To break it she chuckled drawing a puzzled glance from Mukundo.

“Do you want to be called a prince?” she asked, laughing mischievously.

Mukundo went along and pretended to think before saying, “Just a humble knight errant will do.”

They broke into a laughter. Then he asked, “So are you ready for our first date tonight?”

“Do I have to do something special to get ready?”

“No. You would do great without doing anything special. I am nervous though.”

“Nervous? For what?”

“I hope you like the place.”

“You don’t have to impress me, Mukundo Babu.”

“I don’t have to. But I want you to be impressed. And feel happy. And feel loved.”

“Believe it or not, I am feeling all that. Right here. Right now.”

He smiled and gazed fondly at her.

She looked down and bit her lips. It took her a moment to gather the courage, but she knew she would have to say it. Else he will never come forward after the earlier experience.

“Do you want to kiss me?” she said in one breath.

“What do you think? God! Yes! But I have told you. I can wait. A long time.”

“Don’t. Don’t wait.”

“That’s a permission then. But, Piyali. This will be your first time. I must brush my teeth.”

She pummeled him to hide her embarrassment and he laughed. Then suddenly he got hold of her and before she realized what he was doing, pressed his lips against hers.

– The End –

“I am all right, Mukundo Babu. Just a little fever. I can manage.”

“I wouldn’t have insisted if it was just me. But Ma is there, Piyali. She can take care of you. Won’t you take my advice?”

“I have taken your advice all these days, but excuse me if I don’t want to do so now. You are the kind of person who decides to leave Stanford to go to some godforsaken community college–”

“Piyali! You always defended my decision. Before Ma–”

“I defended you. Of course, I defended you. I will defend you before others even if you were guilty of a murder. But– And what are you leaving for? Because you didn’t get the tenure? Can’t it possibly come the next year? Can’t you try and not rub that old Prof. McCallister the wrong way, even if you hate him, when he has so much say in the decision? Can’t you see that your breakup and resulting depression has meant that you research output has taken a nosedive and it won’t have reflected well on your resume?”

“Have you been talking to Ma about it?”

“No! God! Mukundo Babu, I can think for myself. And in the matters of university, I can think better than Kaki. But you know what. You should just leave. Leave me alone. I will be fine. You are going away in a few months. Don’t pretend like you care.”

“But I–” Mukundo stopped short, let out a sigh and then spoke in a calmer voice, “You baffle me, Piyali. But don’t exert yourself because you are mad at me. You don’t want to listen to me? Fine! But Ma was also insistent that you should come there. She wouldn’t forgive me if I went back without you. Please?”

—

Piyali could not tell Mukundo that she was avoiding Mohima even more than she was avoiding him. But fever or no fever, she could not have succeeded for long. So on the third day of her stay at Mukundo’s place she entered his room carrying some photographs and a sinking heart.

“Piyali!” he started, “You could have called me. You should be resting, not roaming around.”

“I’m fine, Mukundo Babu. Please sit down.”

“You sit first,” he helped her into a chair, then pulled one up to sit right in front of her and looked at her questioningly.

Her eyes dropped down and she gulped hard.

“What is it?” Mukundo asked, concerned.

She cleared her throat and said, still not looking up, “You can’t live with past regrets all your life, Mukundo Babu. It will get lonely.”

“No denying that. It is lonely, already. So?” He noticed the envelope in her hand and asked, “What is this?”

“No… Nothing,” Piyali jolted her hand unthinkingly and the envelope slipped out of her hands. Mukundo bent down to pick up its contents and saw the photos of women. The photographs had the unmistaken clicked-for-wedding-proposals feel to them.

“Ma pestered you?” he asked.

“She asked me… to talk to you. But.. I wouldn’t have agreed if… I didn’t believe that she is right. You need a life partner.”

“Why are you stuttering then? Why are you not looking at me? When you believe you are right, you are capable of blasting me so eloquently as if you have the dialogs well-rehearsed. What is it now?”

“Mukundo Babu! It’s not–”

“Fact is, Piyali, and you know it as well as I do, that I have failed at a relationship that I believed was as strong as one can get,” he stood up and started pacing in front of her, “I could not figure out what she wanted. What kind of partner will I make? For anyone? This isn’t happening, Piyali. This isn’t right.”

“You loved blindly. That was not a bad thing, Mukundo Babu.”

“You are just defending me.”

“There is nobody else here. Why would I defend you?”

“In any case the world doesn’t seem to care for my blind love.”

“You would be surprised at how many do care.”

“Yeah?” he stopped in front of her, bent down keeping his hands on the handles of her chair so that his face was at level with hers and continued, “How do I know if any of these women care, Piyali? Do you know anyone who does? Do you?”

He stayed there, imposing himself on Piyali for a long minute until tears started flowing down her eyes. Then he jerked back, suddenly aware of how uncomfortable he would have made her.

He pulled the other chair slightly away from her and slumped into it. He rubbed his temples as he spoke, “It’s almost like I can do nothing right with you. Piyali, I am sorry. I don’t know what I was doing just now, what I was saying. It’s not your mess to fix. It is a good thing I am going–”

“I know,” she spoke suddenly, still crying and still not looking at him.

“Excuse me?”

“I know someone who cares, Mukundo Babu. But whether you could care for her is another matter altogether.”

She stood up and made to leave, but found her hand yanked by Mukundo at the door. He pulled her back, then let her hands go.

“If there is any chance that I have misunderstood you, then you should indeed leave. Immediately. I won’t stop you again. Do you want to leave?”

She stood rooted to her place, her eyes downcast, her body trembling – only partly from fever.

“If you don’t leave,” his voice grew hoarse and heavy, “Then I may say or do something foolish again. And Piyali, I don’t want to have any regrets where it concerns you. Do you want to leave?”

She stayed as and where she was.

His hands reached out and held her arms. “You care,” he had to clear his throat to make himself heard, “You care much more than you let on. Oh Piyali! Why were you mad at me all this while? Why wouldn’t you let me know? No! Wait. Don’t say anything. Don’t explain. Just–”

He drew her in an embrace and she willingly came to him. Sobbing, but willing, pliant.

He broke the embrace only after she had stopped crying, then wiped her tears and cupped her face. As he lowered his lips towards her, she suddenly turned her face away. His face grew ashen and hot. Had he misunderstood her even after all this precaution?

“I–” he stuttered, stepping back, “I’m sorry. I thought–”

“No!” she looked him in the eyes for the first time since entering the room, “Don’t be sorry. I just… I just need time, Mukundo Babu.”

Mukundo gave a sigh of relief and held her again, “I can live with that. For a long time. Trust me.”

Finally, a smile appeared on her face.

“How much I have missed this smile. It’s still as sweet and innocent as it was when you were young. I should never have let our friendship go. I have missed so much.”

“I’m pretty sure I want to say something about that. But my mind is in a whirlwind and I can’t say much.”

“Oh – you are as articulate as ever. But definitely a little feverish and weak. Let’s tuck you back in bed and wait until you are better.”

As he put his hands around her to lead her out, she hesitated.

“What now?”

“I don’t know how I will ever tell Kaki! Or Ma, or Baba! Or anyone!”

He chuckled. “Leave that to me.”

“Mukundo Babu!”

“What?”

“Don’t tell Kaki now. No in this trip of hers. I–”

“Need time. Yes – I understand. My lips are zipped.”

She smiled, “Then stay away. Actually, stay back. I will show myself to my bed.”

He sighed, “All right. Here – these photos.”

“You keep them. I will tell Kaki you are thinking.”

“Really?”

“That will make her happy.”

“And what if I end up falling for one of them?”

“You will have to try harder than that to make me insecure.”

He looked on fondly as she left the room.

—

To be continued

Both their families gathered together to see them off on the day they were to leave. They both behaved as if nothing was wrong between them although they avoided speaking to each other as much as possible. Their suitcases were also piled on the same trolley at the airport. So after bidding goodbyes to their families they went to the check in counter together and got seats next to each other.

Mukundo had felt worse in the last five days that he had felt even in the months after his breakup with Aporna. He was ashamed and angry at the same time. He didn’t want to stay at home because Mohima would try incessantly to cheer him up and it would only depress him further. He did not want to step out because he didn’t want to see anyone. And he was afraid of running into Piyali. He didn’t think he would be able to face her again.

He was dreading this inevitable meeting and was grateful that Piyali didn’t expose him. He couldn’t have hoped for more. But as they sat at the airport now, waiting for the boarding announcement, with their laptop bags on the seat between them separating them, he grew restless to break the silence. It was suffocating. What was it with this chit of a girl? Ten-years junior to him. A child, really. Well – no longer a child, perhaps. A grown, mature woman who may shy away from the world, but understood it nonetheless. A strong woman who may not meet the eyes of strangers, but who could provide you with strong shoulders to lean on. He craved for those shoulders. It seemed so within the reach, yet so far away! If only he could grasp it and—

“Is the next semester going to be busy for you?” he blurted before he realized that he was planning to speak.

Piyali managed to not show the start she got and replied calmly, “No more than the current one, I hope.”

He nodded, unable to figure out how to continue the conversation, unable even to decide whether he should continue. But Piyali came to his rescue.

“What about you?” she asked.

“Just the usual. One course to teach and then research and Ph. D. students.”

“Do you know the Bengali Association in the campus is planning to celebrate Basant Panchami in a big way this year. Would you like to get involved?”

“I’m too old for all that, Piyali. It is for the students.”

“Bad excuse! Many professionals, professors and their spouses are involved. It’s fine. If you are not interested, you are not interested. Don’t say stupid things like you are too old.”

He took a deep breath and did not reply. Instead rested his head back on the chair and closed his eyes. Piyali eyed him with concern, then looked away to hide her tears.

—

She was around more often. She would sometimes knock at his door early in the morning, carrying her latest breakfast experiment in her newly acquired Tupperware. At other times, she would drop into his office between her classes wanting to know if he was free for lunch or dinner. He always was. But he would calculatingly tell her no some times. Her being around should have elated him. But he was only getting depressed. She didn’t come to him because she wanted to, he would remind himself all the time. She only pitied him. An old, broken man who was lonely and bereft. He hated her when he thought of that. And he hated himself.

Then the news came. He had been denied tenure. Something he had been working hard towards for years, since the very beginning of his career.

—

“You are joining an obscure State University?”

“Yes.”

“Leaving Stanford to join that?” Piyali was incredulous.

“I suppose it’s time to get off the high horse. I am not getting tenure here.”

“You know the decision?”

“It is out.”

“What? When? You never told me.”

“Why should I have? What could you have done?”

She stumbled back on hearing his bitter reply and found herself tongue-tied.

When Mukundo finally looked at her face, hurt and pain obvious in her eyes, he regretted his behavior. But she found her voice before him.

“Nothing,” she mumbled, “I could have done nothing. I’m not Aporna. I could never be.” She turned on her heels.

“Piyali!”

But she didn’t heed him and ran out of his house.

—

Piyali stared at the phone for a moment and took a deep breath before picking it up.

“Hello.”

“Piyali. It’s me. Mukundo.”

“I know, Mukundo Babu.”

“Ma is coming here. Tomorrow.”

“I know.”

Mohima had called Piyali after learning of Mukundo’s decision to leave Stanford at the end of the academic year. She had been frantic. “Has he lost his mind over Aporna, Piyali?”

“Let him be, Kaki. Stanford is not the end of the world,” Piyali had defended him, “A change of place might do him good.”

“I want to come there. For a while.”

“Then come. Don’t pester him about Aporna or about his job decisions. And I’m sure he would be happy to have you around.”

“When should I meet her?” Piyali shook off her thoughts and asked.

“Would you… come to the airport with me?”

He didn’t want to meet his mother alone. He was scared of pestering. You needn’t worry, she felt like assuring him. But held her tongue and instead said, “Okay. Will you pick me up?”

“Yes. At seven in the morning.”

She had watched him from afar in past few days. He had looked shabby. He had often gone days without shaving. But when he came to pick her up that morning, he had clearly taken care to groom himself. He almost looked like his old self, except for that slouch and those sad eyes.

After picking Mohima up and coming back to Mukundo’s house with her, Piyali tried to leave several times. But Mukundo insisted that she stay for breakfast, then for lunch and finally even for dinner. He almost seemed on the verge of making some excuse to make her stay the night, but she preempted him.

“I have an early morning class, Kaki. I must be going now. I also have to finish my assignment.”

“I will drop you,” Mukundo hastened with his offer.

“I will walk, Mukundo Babu.”

“No. It’s late–” Mohima concurred with her son, “He will drop you.”

“This is not some shady end of Kolkata, Kaki–”

“That’s all right. But I have said it. He will drop you.”

Piyali could not keep her cool in the car.

“What are you trying to do, Mukundo Babu? Are you going to avoid your mother all your life?”

He didn’t retort, instead stayed silent and avoided meeting her eyes. That softened her.

“You don’t need to worry. She is not going to pester you about your job or about Aporna. I have begged her not to.”

He braked hard. They were lucky that there was nobody else on the road, else they would have gotten into an accident.

He looked her full in face now and his eyes betrayed his astonishment. “You have?” he asked.

Piyali misunderstood him. “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interfere. But she called me and she was frantic and I thought–”

“Piyali. I–” he stooped mid-sentence and continued staring at her as his mouth opened and closed several times. Finally, he decided against voicing his thoughts, returned his eyes to the road and drove on in silence.

Piyali tossed and turned in her bed all night. How uncomplicated their relationship was in her childhood! Why do children ever want to grow up? If only the wheels of time could turn back…

—

To be continued

His alternating resentment and pervasive depression had driven him to the brink by the time the holidays came and they boarded the plane for a flight back home. Piyali found him snappy and irritable like never before. He shouted at the woman at the ticket counter and when Piyali tried to calm him down he growled her into silence.

They had to spend almost twenty-four hours on the flight and his mood didn’t bode well for how it would go. So despite fearing another outburst from him she ventured to ask.

“Is something the matter, Mukundo Babu?”

“Why do you ask?” he said gruffly.

“The delay in checking in wasn’t that woman’s fault, you know. And the flight wasn’t going to take off without us. And even if it was her fault, I do not remember you ever being rude to people like that.”

The gave him a pause and he looked at her for a long moment. She could see that he was in pain.

“It hasn’t been an easy time for you, Mukundo Babu. I know that. But you can’t stop being you,” she added gently.

His bitterness for her returned and he grumbled, “What would you know?”

“I know,” she replied in a low voice, “I think I know. Even if I can’t do anything to ease your pain.”

He didn’t reply and closed his eye.

After a while, once the flight was airborne, he turned towards her and asked, no longer in an irritated tone. “You are happy to be going back, aren’t you?”

She smiled, eager to talk of her own feelings as well as divert his mind from his depressing ones, “Very. But I wish I could have gone back for pujo.”

“Pujo?” he was surprised, “From what I remember Kaki and Ma had to drag you to the pandal. You never wanted to go there.”

“That’s because they wanted me to talk and socialize and play with other kids. I liked going with Baba better. He never pestered.”

Mukundo smiled.

“And you haven’t been there for a long time, but when you were there,” she added, “I liked going with you too.”

“You were so young. Do you even remember?”

“Perhaps my childhood memory is particularly sharp,” she said and then suddenly looked away. Her face was hot and flushed for some reason.

Mukundo didn’t notice this peculiar act of hers and chuckled, “Must be. I remember too. Of course, I was old enough to remember. When someone was visiting, you preferred hiding in a corner with a book or Chanda Mama. You are fine now, though, aren’t you? You have many friends.”

“I was fine then too, Mukundo Babu. I liked being by myself. That doesn’t mean there was anything wrong with me. I still like being by myself or only with a few people I feel comfortable with. Why do you think something is wrong with me?”

Mukundo fell silent. Piyali grew worried that she had been too rude and broke the silence, “Mukundo Babu! I… I’m sorry. I didn’t…”

“No!” he came to himself, “I am sorry. You are right. I have been shallow in judging you. What I had forgotten was that you were always so mature for your age. The few people with whom you did feel comfortable were almost always older to you. Perhaps that’s why I figured in the list too.”

That made her blush. “I… I never thought of it this way.”

Mukundo was somber through the rest of the journey, but to Piyali’s relief no longer sour like in the beginning.

—

“Piyal!” Mohima took her aside one day, “Whatever the hell happened with that girl? Aporna?”

“What… what do you mean, Kaki?” Piyali stammered at the unexpected question.

“Mukundo won’t tell me anything,” she suddenly sounded nervous, tired and pathetic, “Except that they aren’t together any longer. But he is hurting. And I don’t know what to do.”

“Kaki. It isn’t my story to tell. Besides, I am not sure that he would feel any better if you knew. There isn’t anything I or you can do about it. It’s over.”

“Promise me, then, Piyali that you will look after him. There is something that worries me. You know that I am not the kind to meddle in the affairs of my grown-up children. But this time… He feels so vulnerable and I so helpless.”

“Kaki. There is nothing I will not do for him. Just that…”

“What?”

“Nothing alarming. Mukundo Babu treats me like a kid. He doesn’t see me as a friend he can lean upon.”

“Oh Piyali–”

“Which doesn’t mean that I am not there for him, Kaki. Rest assured.”

Mohima nodded and gave her a quick hug before leaving abruptly. Piyali could guess that she was trying to hide her tears. She felt like following her and assuring her better. But remained frozen to her spot.

—

“Where are you going?” Mukundo ran into Piyali just outside her house.

“Oh. Nowhere urgent. I can go later. Please come in, Mukundo Babu.”

“It’s okay. You go ahead. I will come some other time. It is more important to meet people you can only meet while in Kolkata,” he replied with a smile, but one that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Come, Mukunodo Babu,” she yanked at his hand and led him into her house, “I’m not meeting anyone so important. It’s just a packet Shahid has sent for his girlfriend, which I have to hand over to a friend of hers.”

“Girfriend?” Mukundo stopped abruptly, “Whose girlfriend?”

“Shahid’s. What happened?”

“How could he? And you are really so cool about it?”

“Mukundo Babu?”

“He has a girlfriend here? What has he been doing with you at Stanford?”

“For God’s sake, Mukundo Babu. He is not my boyfriend. We are just friends. Two people who miss Kolkata and bond over it.”

“People who miss Kolkata and bond over it,” Mukundo repeated, agitated, “And what do I do? Don’t I miss Kolkata? Can’t you bond with me over it? Must you go around looking for other people who miss Kolkata?”

“Mukundo Babu! What has come upon you?”

“What has come upon me? To think that a girl who obsessed over me as a child can’t even talk to me for a while now–”

Her confusion morphed into fury at that reference and she lost her cool, “For God’s sake, Mukundo Babu. Are you going to hold one stupid childhood moment against me all my life? Children say the damndest things. Are those going to define their adult choices forever?”

She stopped on seeing his bowed head and flushed face. ‘Something has just gone terribly wrong,’ a thought flashed in her mind, but she didn’t get a chance to sort it out in her head. ‘I’m sorry,’ Mukundo mumbled and turned on his heels. He almost ran away from there.

Piyali stood transfixed at her place for a long time. What had just happened? She had blasted him. Why? Because he referred to that embarrassing incident from her childhood. But why did he do that? It wasn’t to embarrass her. Had he wanted her friendship? She absently looked at the packet in her hand, then turned back and walked listlessly back to her house. Once in, she shut herself up in her room, pleading a headache and cried hard into the pillow.

—

To be continued

Piyali woke up groggy. When she came to she was startled. Where was she? It took her a minute to identify Mukundo’s bedroom. With the recognition came the panic? How had she landed here? She couldn’t remember anything of the last night at all. What had happened? She jumped out of the bed. But felt dizzy and had to sit back. After a while she slowly lifted herself and carefully walked towards the door. From there she spotted Mukundo sitting on his couch and sipping tea.

He noticed her and stood up abruptly. He looked uncomfortable as he asked, “How are you feeling?”

“How did I… Why am I here? What happened?”

“You were too drunk.”

“Drunk?”

“I, perhaps, don’t have the right to lecture you, Piyali. I had been telling you all these months that you need to go out and all. But it doesn’t mean that the first party you land in, you get yourself pitch drunk like this. You don’t remember anything, do you?”

“But I never touched alcohol!”

He raised his eyebrows.

“I swear, Mukundo Babu. I had only taken some juice. I was too nervous to try anything fancy.”

“Holy cow!” Mukundo came up to her, “Did someone spike your drink?”

“There were so many people. And I did go to bathroom once leaving my glass behind. I don’t know… I can’t remember anything. I–”

“Calm down,” he put his hand on her shoulder, “You are safe. It’s over.”

“How did you find me?”

“I… just… I didn’t have anything to do. So I thought I would swing by. Thankfully I reached in time.” Mukundo shuddered inwardly thinking of the man who was trying to molest her last night. But he decided not to worry her with that just now. The disaster was averted.

After a moment of awkward silence, he said, “Why don’t you wash up? I will get you some tea. You will feel better.”

She nodded and before heading to the bathroom told him a small voice, “Thank you, Mukundo Babu.”

She splashed water on her face and then looked around. She had been to his house only about twice before. They usually met at Aporna’s place. And then to come back in such circumstances! She lingered a little longer than needed in the bathroom to let the blush fade away.

—

Along with tea, Mukunod had also made some eggs. The smell made her realize that she was famished and she gobbled them hungrily. After a few bites, she felt satiated and was in a position to eat slowly and talk.

“You came to meet me yesterday,” she started the conversation both of them really wanted to have.

He gave a small smile, “You must already know why. I had come to apologize.”

“You don’t need to–”

“You were right, of course. But even if I didn’t believe you, I had no reason to be so hurtful.”

“You were caught unawares. You were shocked.”

“Do you forgive me then?”

“Do you forgive me?” she asked back.

“You were trying to save me, Piyali. Why should you ask for forgiveness?”

“I hurt you and I couldn’t really save you.”

“At least I didn’t spend on the ring,” he tried to smile.

“You didn’t propose?”

“Despite my disbelief, I had grown wary. I almost proposed, but without the ring. Anyway. What would you do with gory details.”

“You don’t need to recount bad memories.”

“Right. Thanks.”

“And thank you so much for rescuing me last night, Mukundo Babu. I have no clue what happened.”

“Don’t think about it. Just rest today and recover.”

“I need to go home.”

“I will drop you.”

She went to the kitchen and washed her dishes. She picked up her handbag to leave and habitually took out her mobile to check for any messages.

“Oh my God!” she exclaimed.

“What happened?”

“There are like a hundred calls from Shahid.”

“The guy you had gone with?”

She was surprised. How did he know? Did he remember a fragment of overheard phone conversation? Outwardly she just nodded and said, “My phone was silent for some reason.”

The she dialed Shahid back.

“No… No… Calm down. You haven’t gone to cops yet, right? Good… Just wait. I will reach home in ten minutes… I will explain everything…. Yes, yes… Be there…”

“He was worried?” Mukundo asked after she disconnected the call.

“He was frantic. He looked for me everywhere. Went to my home and was planning to go to the cops. I need to meet him at my home now.”

“Let’s go.”

—

Shahid was a Ph. D. student, Mukundo found out, when he met him at Piyali’s place. He took one of Piyali’s tutorials. He was also from Kolkata and that’s how he and Piyali started talking and became friends. His distress was genuine and Mukundo was satisfied that he was not responsible for Piyali’s condition last night.

“I will not leave you alone in a party ever again,” he said.

“I will not go to a party ever again,” Piyali replied.

“That’s little extreme, Piyali,” Mukundo interjected, “I know you are scared right now. But you just need to be careful. You can’t lock yourself up in your room because of what someone else did.”

“Exactly!” Shahid concurred.

Mukundo then left them to talk and took his leave.

—

Mukundo resented Piyali and himself by turn. She seemed to have too many friends all of sudden, too many activities on her plate. She didn’t have much time for him. Then he remembered that he was the one who had encouraged her to go out, to make friends and to not remain confined in her little cocoon. And she, perhaps, wasn’t even overdoing it. Whatever time Piyali had for him had been more than sufficient when his life had revolved around Aporna. He had grown so secure in his relationship that he wasn’t prepared for a life without her. He had no regular get-together with his other friends, no regular social engagements. Planning the time when he was not working was an effort and it depressed him. If only there was another default option. That’s when he wanted to reach out to Piyali, but found her busy with her own friends and engagements. And far too often he spotted Shahid around her.

—

To be continued

“Mukundo Babu!” Piyali’s face lit up on seeing him, “Please come.”

“Is Aporna around?”

“No. I thought she had told you,” she replied.

“Oh yes. That’s good, actually. I came to meet you,” he said as he flopped down on the couch.

“Me?”

“Why? Can’t I come to meet you?”

“Of course, you can,” she flushed, “Shall I make you some tea?”

“No. Don’t make me anything. Just sit down here, will you? I really need to talk to you.”

Rupali sat down gingerly. “Is everything all right, Mukundo Babu?”

“I need your help.”

“Tell me.”

“Look. I want to propose to Aporna and you have to help do it right. Okay?”

Piyali’s breath caught in her throat.

Mukundo noticed her blanched face and asked, “What happened?”

“Nothing,” she managed a smile, “How can I help?”

“Why, you look more nervous than I am. But help me anyway. Perhaps help me choose a ring and then… I don’t know… Whatever I need. Give me heart, perhaps?”

“Okay. But I need your help first.”

“With what?”

“With shifting to a place of my own.”

“Why – you think I’m moving in here or something.”

“No. No,” Mukundo’s brows arched and Piyali corrected herself, “I mean I didn’t know about your plans. I just… I think I should move out. Aporna has been very good to me. But I might be in her way. I don’t even cook yet.”

“I don’t think she minds. But if you are ready to spread your wings, why not?”

“I have shortlisted a few places, actually. If you could check them out sometime and help me finalize–”

“Let’s go now.”

“Now?”

“Unless you are busy.”

“No. I can go now. Give me five minutes to change.”

—

“There now!” Mukundo exclaimed as he moved in last of her boxes. There were only her book and personal stuff to move. She hadn’t had to buy anything big while she stayed with Aporna and her new place also had all the basics she would need. “You are all settled,” he continued, “Now it’s my turn to get help.”

She grimaced. “You want to buy the ring today?” she asked, her voice sinking.

“Yes. Right now.”

“Please sit down, Mukundo Babu.”

“You can settle your stuff later, Piyali and I don’t want any tea.”

“It’s important. Please sit down.”

“Fine. What is it?”

“You… you shoulnd’t–”

“I shouldn’t what?”

“You shouldn’t buy the ring.”

“Why not?”

Piyali just chewed her lips and stared at her lap.

“Oh, for God’s sake, Piyali. I am already out of my wits. Do you have a better idea?”

“She is going to refuse you,” Piyali blurted, “She is seeing someone else.”

Mukudno looked at her as if she had spoken in an unintelligible language.

“It’s Dave, Mukundo Babu,” Piyali added in a mumble.

Mukundo took a deep breath and sat back, smiling, “Your imagination is hyperactive, Piyali. Dave is a good friend. Not only hers, but mine too.”

Seeing her silent, he grew agitated and angry. “Is this your idea of a joke?” he demanded.

“I wouldn’t–” she choked on her words.

“Then either you are being ridiculous. Or sinister. Which one is it?”

She remained tongue-tied.

“Why are you doing this, Piyali? What are you trying to achieve? You are not – oh my God – you are not still obsessed about me, are you?”

“Mukundo Babu, please!”

“This is sickening. I can’t stand it,” he stood up abruptly and left without sparing her another glance.

She buried her head in her hands and sobbed.

—

Two Weeks Later

Mukundo pressed the call bell switch and then remembered that it wasn’t working. It didn’t look like she had gotten it fixed. After a long minute of hesitation, he knocked. Once. Twice. No answer. Partly because he was desperate, and partly because he got worried, he used his spare key. He had left her so abruptly the last time they met that the occasion to return the key never arose.

She came out of the bathroom just as he shut the door behind him. A little startled cry escaped her before she realized who it was; then she fell silent and looked at him apprehensively.

Mukundo forgot why he was there. He stared at her agape. She had a simple, black dress on, a modest one, sleeveless, but calf-length. Yet she looked stunning in it. He had never seen her in a dress earlier. Jeans and tops had been her attire since she had landed in the US. She occasionally traded them for more formal trousers and shirts if some occasion at the university demanded it.

“Mukundo Babu?” It was she who finally broke the spell.

Embarrassed, he looked away for a moment, then looked back at her with studied neutrality. “I… I am sorry. I knocked, but you didn’t respond. I ended up using my spare key. Are you okay? I mean… Yes… Of course, you are…”

“Please sit down, Mukundo Babu.”

He didn’t need any more encouragement. He slumped into a chair.

But before either of them could speak, Piyali’s mobile rang. She looked at the number and after hesitating for a moment picked it up.

“Yes, Shahid… I’m ready. You wait in the car; I will come down in five minutes… Yes…”

“Sorry,” Mukundo stood up after she disconnected the call, “You are going somewhere. I won’t detain you.”

“Just a party,” she replied, sounding diffident.

“Great. Where is it?”

“DC Lounge. Will you come? It’s an open party.”

“No. You go ahead and enjoy. I’ll make a move now.”

—

Mukundo was horrified. Piyali was sitting sprawled on the floor, her back barely straight against the wall. She was not in her senses. He pushed away the man who was trying to kiss her and shook her violently.

“Piyali!”

She was too drunk to respond.

Mukundo lifted her off the floor with difficulty, threw her handbag over his shoulder and dragged her to his car. On their way back, she seemed to gain some consciousness once in a while. Once she recognized him.

“Mukundo Babu!”

“Yes Piyali?”

“I… I wasn’t lying… I had seen her with Dave…”

Mukundo fell silent and looked straight ahead. After a long time, he replied, “I know. I know, now.” But when he looked back at her she had passed out again. He let out a sigh and concentrated on driving.

—

To be continued

“And what will happen to our book-worm Piyali?” Mohima spoke through her incessant laughter.

The women of the neighborhood were gathered in the Banerjee household that winter afternoon. The subject of conversation had turned inevitably to marriages and some of them were insistent that it was increasingly essential for the youngsters to find their own spouses. They could not be expected to depend on their parents any longer. Sighting 10-year old Piyali sitting in a corner, as usual engrossed in a book and least interested in either the women’s gossip or the children’s games going on in the verandah, Mohima had teased her.

“Kaki?” Piyali had looked at her quizzically. She hadn’t heard anything other than her own name.

Her mother Debangi understood, so she explained, grinning, “Mohima Di is asking what will happen to you. You cannot even bear to talk to anyone and have your nose in a book all the time. How will you find yourself a husband?”

Knowing her as a shy, reserved child the women had not expected a comeback from her. But she replied even as she turned her eyes back to her book, “I know who I am going to marry.”

“Really? Who?” Mohima asked her, while Debangi tittered.

“Mukundo Babu.”

The entire gathering burst out laughing.

“Oh my God! Mukundo!” Mohima called her son who was sitting in the adjoining room with his and Piyali’s father, “Come here.”

“What happened?” Mukundo appeared in the doorway and Piyali flushed, although nobody noticed because her face was practically buried in her book.

“It’s time to dump your girlfriend if you have one, my son!”

“Excuse me?”

“Piyali here has declared that she is going to marry you.”

“Really?” Mukundo grinned and joined in their amused chuckles. Twenty-year old Mukundo was one year away from finishing his undergraduate studies at Stanford and intended to continue in a Ph. D. program there.  “I must be prepared then. Thanks for informing, Ma!” he added.

Piyali ran away from there and would not stop even though Mukundo called after her.

She was angry with herself. She should never have revealed it in front of the grownups. They didn’t know their own minds. On the one hand, they could not stop praising her for her maturity beyond her age. On the other hand, they would never take her seriously. And now even Mukundo Babu was laughing at her. Was she doomed?

—

The cabin crew’s announcement that the plane was preparing for landing brought Piyali out of her reverie and she chuckled at the recollection. How seriously do children take themselves! Her childhood friendship with Mukundo had faded away as she grew up. He, anyway, came home only once a year. Their conversations had grown limited to how-are-you-i-am-fine exchange of pleasantries. The last time she had seen him, about four years ago, he was sporting long hair, in a ponytail, and a rather saggy beard. She had been horrified to see him. But they no longer shared the frank rapport under whose cover she could have criticized his looks. Since then he hadn’t been to Kolkata. His India trips were to Mumbai, where he had his research collaborators, and his parents would travel there to meet him.

Now as she was heading towards Stanford, and Mukundo – an assistant professor at the university now – was to meet her at the airport, she wondered if he would still be sporting that ghastly look.

He came up to her as she was waiting for her luggage.

“Piyali! How are you?” he spoke to her in Bengali.

She was in for a pleasant surprise. His hair was cut decently and he was clean-shaven. Mature by a few years, he looked handsomer than ever. She blushed despite herself.

“I’m fine,” she replied, “Thanks for coming.”

He grinned, “Are we into these formalities now? Oh – is that your suitcase?”

“It is,” she turned towards the baggage belt. “How did you know?” she asked as he pulled the suitcase off the belt.

“Kaku had sent your photo and photos of your bags.”

“He had? Oh God!” she whacked her forehead in embarrassment.

“It’s okay. Parents can be like that. There! The other suitcase, right?”

“Yes,” she smiled sheepishly.

He pushed her trolley towards a coffee shop, where they met with a woman who had ordered coffee for all of them already.

“This is Aporna. My girlfriend and your roommate for a while. She has a spare room in her apartment for a few months. So, I thought you could put up with her and then find a place suitable for yourself.” He switched to English now.

“That’s great. Thanks, Mukundo Babu. Thank you, Aporna di.”

“Di?” Aporna laughed, “How sweet! But just call me Aporna. Okay?” Her accent revealed that she was either a US-born Indian or had spent most of her life there.

Piyali nodded, smiling but slightly flushed.

“Are you still as shy as you used to be as a child?” Mukundo asked abruptly.

Piyali looked baffled and Aporna chuckled.

“What an odd question, Mukundo. You could have waited to find that out.”

“Well, it is important to know. American society is not well suited for shy and introvert people. She will need help in adjusting.”

“Well then. Stop bullying her. She will do fine. Don’t let his sweeping notions unsettle you, Piyali. You are studying Computer Science, not business management. You will do fine.”

“Aporna will be fine mentor for you,” Mukundo smiled fondly.

“I’m sure,” Piyali replied, “Thank you!”

—

“What could you be doing with this fat Psychology book?” The low voice startled Piyali. She looked up from her chair and sighed in relief on spotting Mukundo. “How easily you get scared!” he grinned and took a chair opposite her.

She smiled and replied to his original question, keeping her voice low as they were in the library, “I have been fond of Psychology. I am auditing a few classes. Things are so flexible and open here.”

“Good. Try one of my classes.”

“So that you can tease the hell out of me? No!”

Mukundo chuckled, “That’s not all I do. Come on!”

“No,” she grew serious, “You help me a lot. But I was joking.”

“I know. Anyway, you are coming for the dinner tonight?”

“I think you and Aporna should go. You don’t need a third wheel all the time.”

“Oh, I have Madam’s permission. Don’t worry. She seems rather fond of you.”

“Another spoiled Indian brat who can’t cook and clean for her life?”

“She told you that?” Mukundo’s grin returned.

“Yes. And she also confirmed that you used to be like that. But you are better now.”

“Yes,” he smiled, “I am better now. She has been patient with me. Anyway. You be ready in time for dinner.”

But Aporna got busy that evening. Both she and Mukundo insisted that Piyali go out with Mukundo.

“What do you want to eat?” Mukundo asked her.

“Anything.”

“I don’t know where to find that. Hey you want some maachh?”

“You plan to cook now?”

“No. No. There is this small place… Aporna can’t stand so much spice, so we don’t end up going there.”

“I can put up with spice and I wouldn’t have imaged back in Kolkata that someday I could crave for maachh so much.”

“I know!” he replied wistfully and turned right at the next signal.

Their Kolkata evening was complete as Piyali played her Rabindra Sangeet collection when they came back home and waited for Aporna.

“I am so glad you are here, Piyali,” he said all of a sudden while she was changing the CD.

For reasons she couldn’t have articulated, Piyali felt a shiver run down her spine. Outwardly she put up a smile.

“It’s Kolkata. You remind me of home. Home that was. How nice it is to be able to speak your language and know that you will be understood. I’m sorry I lost touch with you. And with Kolkata. You will be going back for holidays, right? I will also come with you.”

“Everyone there will be so happy to see you, Mukundo Babu. And I am sure Kaku and Kaki will appreciate not having to travel to Mumbai.”

Aporna came back a while later looking tired and sleepy. Piyali averted her eyes as Mukundo planted a quick kiss on his girlfriend’s lips. She continued playing her CDs after the lovers had locked themselves up in Aporna’s room.

—

To be continued