Tag: love

Being Anna (Part 4)

Posted Mish2 CommentsPosted in English, Karishma-Siddharth, Original

They climbed up the hill and found a shade to rest under. The lunch could wait. People formed different groups, some gossiping, some playing games. One large group was formed immediately for playing cricket. They found an area that was flat and large enough. Mou sat down with a group for playing cards. Cards didn’t interest Karishma. She picked up a book and wandered off.

“Still working on the project?” her secluded spot was discovered by him.

“Prof. Sen,” she smiled at him and got up. “Not working. It is fun to read in the natural surroundings. But yes – since I am reading the book, I’d as well use it in the project.”

“I won’t disturb you, then,” he said and made to go away.

“No. Please. Stay,” she said and felt awkward at her eagerness.

He pretended not to notice any awkwardness and sat down. She did likewise.

“So, where are you from?” he started the conversation, “You stay in the hostel, right?”

“Yeah. My family is in Kolkata.”

“Who all?”

“Oh. Lots of people,” she chuckled, “My parents. My younger brother and sister. I have one each. My grandparents, two of my uncles and their families.”

“That’s grand. Must be fun.”

“It’s a zoo, jungle, I don’t know what! But yes – it’s fun. How about you?”

“I have no family left. I had lost my family to an accident in childhood. I was saved somehow and was brought up by an elderly maternal uncle. He was quit old and died soon after I started working.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It has always been like that for me. I don’t remember life being any other way.”

“But that solves the mystery,” she said playfully.

“What mystery?”

“Why you are not married. There is no one to coax you.”

He laughed at that, but Karishma was able to discern a pain in it. His laughter was not of amusement, but an attempt at hiding something. The mystery was not solved, then.

“I like that explanation,” he said.

“You should get married though,” she persisted despite being unsure about the appropriateness of the topic.

“Why?”

“For one, you’d make a cool Dad. Not wanting chaperoning for your kids.”

“I hope you are not planning on opening a marriage bureau. You’d do a very bad job of convincing people to get married.”

She grinned. But before she could reply, she heard Mou calling her name.

“Karishma. Lunch time. Where are you?”

“Here. Coming.”

Mou followed the voice and came there. She looked embarrassed to find Siddhartha there. “Sir! Good morning, Sir,” she greeted him awkwardly. He nodded in acknowledgement and got up.

“Shall we go for lunch?” he looked at Karishma. She nodded and they walked off.

—

Mou accosted her after lunch.

“What was going on?”

“What?”

“Hum-tum ek kamre mein band ho…” Mou sang meaningfully and whistled.

“Mou!”

“Fine. At least tell me what you talked about.”

“It’s sad, Mou. He is all alone in the world. No family.”

“Hmm… The way you are going, it won’t be the case for long.”

“Excuse me?”

“You seem all set to make him a family.”

“Mou!”

“No. I am not shutting up this time. What are you doing? A fool can see that you are falling in love.”

“Mou. That’s a forbidden territory for me. My family would be… you know very well.”

“I know very well. It is you who seems to have forgotten.”

“I’m in no danger, Mou. Even if I fall for him, I am sure he would not think of it as any more than a school-girlish crush for a teacher. Besides, it isn’t happening. I am not going to let it happened.”

As she wandered around again, she noticed that a group of school children had also come up the hill. Probably it was a picnic day for them too. Their carefree manners and games brought a smile to her face. And then she noticed the one whose company she was trying to avoid after lunch. Siddhartha Sen had joined the group of children and was playing with them. He was laughing and enjoying their tiresome games. She gazed for a minute; then deliberately turned away. She started walking around the hills alone.

—

“This is going to be a storm. Pack up everyone. Quick. Come on. Get in the buses,” Mrs. D’Souza and student volunteers got busy is trying to get everyone in the buses.

“We have to make sure nobody is left behind. Let’s do a count in every bus before leaving,” Siddhartha suggested and everyone agreed. He was unable to locate Karishma anywhere. Where was she? And of course, there could be others missing.

“Four people are missing.”

“Who all?”

“George is not there.”

“Sahil.”

“Karishma is not there, Ma’am,” Siddhartha heard Mou’s voice, “And her cellphone is left behind in her bag.”

“Vikrant is also not there.”

“Can’t reach any of their phones.”

“George, Sahil and Vikrant had gone to fetch the cricket stuff,” someone recalled.

“I will go and check for them,” a student volunteered, “Give me extra umbrellas.”

“Who has last seen Karishma?”

Nobody could recall seeing her after lunch. Siddhartha hoped that someone else would volunteer the information. But when nobody did, he had to speak. “I had seen someone walk northwards. It must have been her.”

The other three students and the one who had gone to look for them were back by then. Some other students volunteered to look for Karishma accompanied by Siddhartha. They looked around quite far and shouted her name. But had no success.

“I think she has wandered too far, Mrs. D’Sourza,” Siddhartha consulted the other faculty guide, a young lecturer in Philosophy department “There is no point keeping all of them here and making them anxious. I will look for her. You take them back on the buses. Send a car form the hotel and…”

“But how can you do it alone, Prof. Sen?”

“Don’t worry. I am trekker. But if we aren’t back by midnight, inform the police.”

“She is trekker too,” Mou said, her teeth chattering, from cold as well as anxiety for her friend.

“Then she would be all right,” he assured Mou in a gentle voice, “Just stuck somewhere because of the storm.”

“Can I stay with you?”

“No. That won’t help. By myself, I can search a much wider area. You go back to the hotel and don’t worry. I will find her.”

The confidence in his voice assured Mou, though he himself was sick with worry. What had possessed her to wander away like that?

—

To be continued

Being Anna (Part 3)

Posted Mish15 CommentsPosted in English, Karishma-Siddharth, Original

“I am glad that you are using this opportunity, Ms. Gupta” Mou giggled, “Let me try to mimic how he does it.” She tried, but Karishma was not impressed.

“No. No. You don’t say it like him.”

“Aww… How can I? I don’t get to see or hear him up close, do I? Why don’t you try it.”

“Okay here,” she bowed her head a little and then looked up, “I am glad that…” Suddenly she stopped and blushed furiously.

Mou raised her eyebrows.

“Forget it,” Karishma said, “I am no good at mimicking.”

—

They hadn’t begun their weekly project discussion yet, when someone came to see Siddhartha.

“Yes?”

“There is a note from director’s office, Sir.”

“Thanks you.”

Siddhartha opened the envelope. “Our director sometimes refuses to recognize that there are things like e-mails available now,” he sounded amused, not irritated. “Ah! Good job, Ms. Gupta.”

“Sir?”

“Director is happy with the results of projects as an alternative to continuous evaluation. Very few people have opted for it. But they are all doing good work. So, he has appreciated me for the idea. And your project has been mentioned specifically.”

“It was your idea?”

“So was continuous evaluation. So all bouquets and brickbats can be thrown my way.”

She smiled. He wasn’t bad-tempered at all. In fact, he was great at conversations. She wondered about his general moroseness. Why?

“So, what were we to discuss?”

“The novel doesn’t explain the source of Heathcliff’s wealth at all,” she complained. She was going to present Wuthering Heights that week.

“So, your job is to think of the possibilities.”

“Like?”

“The economic structure of the England at that time had started being fluid due to flourishing trade. Mrs. Dean mentions that he looked like he had served as a soldier. He might have joined something like East India Company. That could be one source. Besides given how devoid of any scruples he was, he might even have cheated someone out of money. Probably a woman of some small fortune whom he would have seduced.”

“Hmm… I’d put that in my presentation. By the way, I understand that the characters here are narcissists, selfish… and the entire tone of the novel in dark. It’s about ruthless vengeance. But still, there is one thing I find difficult to digest.”

“What?”

“That Heathcliff should like to torture Catherine’s daughter as a part of his revenge. I can’t imagine a man doing that to the daughter of a woman he loved. ”

Siddhartha looked amused. “Even at its darkest, you do see some romance in love.”

“Don’t you? I mean… if I were to write a novel like that I’d make him a really ruthless man to the rest of the world. But he would kill everyone else, and probably even get her married to his son, only to have her – his lover’s daughter – close to him so that he can give her the fatherly love. And that would redeem him.”

“That would be a fantastic read, I am sure. And more palatable. I agree with your sentiments. I can’t imagine anyone I know who would have tortured the daughter for revenge.”

She grinned as he finally accepted her idea.

“I hope you are getting time to study for your other subjects with this project. There are no weekly tests, but you will have to take exams.”

“Don’t worry about that,” she replied. The new semester was in its fifth week, and with five meetings and other occasional interactions, they had become quite casual with each other. But what vexed her was that he still continued to call her Ms. Gupta.

“Are you coming for the picnic? It’d be fun,” she asked as she gathered her notes to leave.

“I have to. I have the shepherding duty,” he smiled.

She had seen him smile many times now. But it still made her heart skip a beat.

“Shepherding? What on earth does that mean?” she asked ill-concealing her blush.

“Ah! Well. I am the faculty guide ala your jailer ala your shepherd along with Mrs. D’Souza. It is only in India that we would consider it necessary for post-graduate students to be in need of chaperons. You are old enough to choose our government, some of you old enough to govern.”

She laughed, “What can be done? Parents want it.”

“Parents have to be the most senseless creatures in the world.”

“So, you wouldn’t want your kids to be chaperoned?”

His good humor disappeared and his face hardened all of a sudden. Karishma looked at him anxiously. Had she said something inappropriate?

To her relief he smiled. It was evident that it was a forced smile. But it meant that whatever offended him, he wasn’t going to take it out on her. “I suppose not. That would be hypocritical, won’t it? When as a teacher I don’t want the chaperoning duty?”

She smiled as sweetly as she could manage, hoping to placate him with that and came away.

—

“What is his story, Mou?”

“Whose?”

“Professor Sen’s. Why is he not married?”

“Professor Sen. Aha! No more Mr. Perfectionist, eh?” That as a nickname Karishma had given him when on the first day of the class, he had stopped her form attending it, because she was late by few minutes. Her pleas had fallen on deaf ears. She didn’t like missing classes. She had stubbornly sat outside and taken notes. “Mr. Perfectionist cannot stop me from being anywhere else in the world, can he? The classroom might be his fort for that one hour,” she had grumbled.

“Shut up, Mou. He isn’t as bad as he looks from afar. He can actually crack jokes.”

“All right. And that makes you interested in his single status. What’s going on Ms. Gupta?”

“If you don’t want to talk, don’t. Stop teasing me pointlessly.”

“Arr… Okay, okay. Don’t be mad. Thing is, nobody really knows his story. Some people think that because of his bad temper, no girl can withstand him.”

“But his temper is not bad at all.”

“Some even think that he is gay.”

“He is not gay.”

“And how can you be so sure about that?”

“I know.”

“You do?” Mou’s eyes twinkled with mischief again and Karishma pretended to hit her.

Mou guffawed and dropped the topic. “Shall we pack for the picnic? There is an overnight stay. So, we need to carry essentials.”

“Let’s use a single suitcase. If we carry jeans, there won’t be much to pack.”

“Okay.”

—

Siddhartha slumped on the bed after packing his overnighter for the picnic. “So, you wouldn’t want your kids to be chaperoned?” her voice rang in his ears. How was he to know whether or not he would like them chaperoned, when he wasn’t going to have them? And he had desired children so much.

“We will have two of our own and we will adopt two,” he had told Sonali once.

She had rolled her eyes at him. “Why not open an orphanage, then?”

“No. Not orphanage. A home with as many children as possible. I don’t think I will be able to provide for more than four though.”

And she had laughed – her loud, merry laughter that used to mesmerize him. It produced those dimples on her cheeks…

He jerked himself out of the memories. They could bring no peace, no happiness.

—

To be continued

Being Anna (Part 2)

Posted Mish4 CommentsPosted in English, Karishma-Siddharth, Original

“Hello Ms. Gupta,” Mou grinned at her when they met next.

Karishma gave an exaggerated sigh and pressed her chest dramatically. Mou broke into a giggle. “What happened in the great Professor Sen’s office?”

“He is drop-dead gorgeous, Mou!”

“Ah! So, it took some personal attention from him for you to admit that?”

“Whatever that means. He said something about my assignment. And I blabbered something stupid about continuous evaluation. I bet he was laughing after I left, if those facial muscles are capable of flexing for a laugh.”

“You want to impress him, eh?”

“That would be fun, won’t it?” Karishma grinned.

“Good luck!”

—

Karishma lingered outside his office. This was the third time in the day she was doing it. The last two times she had lost courage and gone back. The same would have happened this time too, except that the door suddenly opened.  She was standing right in front of it at that moment. She startled and jumped back.

“Yes?” Siddhartha asked briskly.

“Prof. Sen… Sir!! Good morning… I mean good evening, Sir.”

He frowned and looked at her quizzically. “You wanted to meet me?” he asked.

“No… Yes Sir. But you were going somewhere. I can come later.”

“Only to the restroom. Why don’t you wait in the office for five minutes?”

“Yes Sir.”

She took a deep breath once inside the office and tried to collect her thoughts. She had spent so many hours trying to gather the courage to knock that she had forgotten the alibi she had in mind for coming there. What was it? Ah, right! The assignment. Anna Karenina as a feminist character.

“Yes. Tell me, Ms. Gupta. What did you want?” he came and sat on his chair.

She had gathered her wits together and spoke with reasonable calmness. “You had made a remark about my assignment. Anna Karenina one. That there was a lot to debate. I was wondering about that. We could probably have that debate… sometime?”

“Sure. Now?”

“Yeah. Why not?” she would be missing her philosophy class, she realized. But she might not have the courage to come back if she left now.

“What is more interesting than you not considering Anna a feminist character is that you consider Karenin one.”

“Yes. I have given reasons for thinking that way.”

“But if Anna, at best, is an accidental feminist, isn’t Karenin one too? When he doesn’t fight a duel or is permissive towards his wife, he is not thinking about her, but himself.”

“Feminism is not only about women’s welfare. It breaks the patriarchal stereotype not just for women, but men too. A man is allowed to be what would derogatorily be called being sissy or being a cuckold. He doesn’t have to be manly the way patriarchy asks him to be. And it is fine. Doesn’t make him a lesser person. Anna doesn’t assert and claim her feminist rights even when given a chance by her husband. He does. Although he doesn’t have the feminist vocabulary to justify his decisions. So, he uses politics, importance of his work and religion for it.”

Siddhartha found it pleasant to listen to her fervent speech. He was no longer as interested in having a debate as in listening to her talk.

“So, you are unforgiving to Anna,” he said suppressing a smile.

“I pity her. I don’t blame her for being what she was, for wanting to live a life she wasn’t granted. But God forbid if I were as weak as she was, if I caused so many people so much misery by my actions. Whatever be the society’s failings and hypocrisies, if I did something like what she did, I’d die much sooner than her. I’d rather fight the hypocrisies bravely than fall a victim of it weakly.”

“You would,” he could not help smiling now.

His smile mesmerized and unnerved her. “I’m… talking too much…” she averted her eyes.

“No. It’s fine. It’s interesting to see that you get so emotionally involved with characters you read about.”

“Yeah,” she chuckled at that, “Mou says I am an idiot to be doing so.”

“Mou?”

“My friend. She sits next to me in the class.”

“Ah! Anyway. I see that you have already missed a class.” She flushed on hearing that. He had known that she was missing a class! “You should not miss another.”

“Yes Sir,” she got up hurried.

“Just a minute, Ms. Gupta,” he stopped her.

“Yes Sir?”

“You were saying something about continuous evaluation the other day? You don’t like it.”

“Uh… Yeah. I know it is supposed to make us study and all. But preparing for tests all the time is not fun. You need time to read, reflect and discuss.”

“Hmm… Okay. You can leave now.”

“Good night, Sir.”

“Good night.”

—

“Choices, indeed!” Mou made a face.

“What happened?” Karishma asked. Mou had been looking at the noticeboard.

“So, apparently the academic senate has come up with a proposal to give us an alternative to continuous evaluation. Instead of tests every week, we could do semester-long projects with presentations every week, under any professor who agrees. So, which is the greater torture according to you, Karishma?”

But Karishma had gotten busy reading the noticeboard and didn’t reply.

“This is interesting,” she said at last, “I should like to go for it over the tests.”

“I’d never do that. But to each his own. Come. We are getting late.”

“Do you remember by when do we have to register if we want to take it up the next semester?” Karishma asked Mou as they walked to the class.

“I think till the end of next month. So, who are you doing it with, Ms. Gupta? With SS?” Mou winked at her. She’d call her ‘Ms. Gupta’ whenever she wanted to tease her about Siddhartha.

Karishma just grinned in reply.

—

“So, what project would you want to do?”

“One idea I had was to create a resource for lay people wanting to read classics. There are several historical and sociological reference that keep people from enjoying them even if they can get past the archaic language.”

“Hmm… Like?”

“Can I use your laptop? I will show you a website which does it for Jane Austen’s work… Here. See. For example it explains why those ladies who didn’t need to work for anything else kept sewing and mending all day. Apparently clothes were not as cheap then. This one here explains how costly the transportation was… Things like these.”

“Interesting. I think this can be taken up. But you will have to do at least one book per week for it to qualify as a valid project. Will you be up for it? It will be time-consuming.”

Ah! The demanding teacher was back. But she wasn’t going to back out now.

“Yes, Prof. Sen. I can do that. At least it saves me from weekly tests.”

“All right, then. Next semester. After the class schedule is announced, we should fix up a one-hour slot ever week to catch up on the progress. Ideally one day before the weekly presentation.”

“Yes Sir.”

“I am glad that you are using this opportunity, Ms. Gupta” he said all of sudden.

“Excuse me?”

“The opportunity of doing a project instead of taking the tests. You disliked that, didn’t you?”

“Yes Sir,” a hesitating smile formed on her lips.

—

To be continued

Being Anna (Part 1)

Posted Mish4 CommentsPosted in English, Karishma-Siddharth, Original

Anna Karenina as a Feminist Character

Feminism is a collection of movements and ideologies aimed at defining, establishing, and defending equal political, economic, cultural, and social right for women. After reading this definition on Wikipedia, I couldn’t think of a single reason why Anna Karenina should be considered a feminist character, and why it should be such a popular topic of assignments and tests.  If Anna was a feminist, she was an accidental one. A modern reader will not judge her on moral grounds for destroying her loveless marriage. But her capability for rational and sensible thinking is seriously in doubt.  She was fully aware of how precarious her situation was. How could she ever hope to continue seeing her son in that situation? She rejected a divorce in the hope of not breaking that relationship, which even a modern reader can guess was impossible in her circumstances. In the process she rejected even the little feminist choice the circumstances were providing her with. If she were a feminist and sincerely believed herself to have the right to choose, she wouldn’t have been ashamed of herself. At the very least, she should either have had the strength to stay away from society and still be happy, or to not feel tortured at the jeering.

If there is a feminist character in the novel, I would rather say it is Karenin, Anna’s husband. The novel is not generous to him. His act of not going for a duel is considered unmanly. But what can be a more vulgar display of patriarchy than fighting a duel over a woman’s sexual life.  He gives her the freedom to continue seeing her lover, if only external proprietary were maintained, and he wasn’t forced to own up the situation publicly and give divorce. The novel portrays this too as the sin of non-passion. I am inclined to think that he gave her as much freedom and choice, while still shielding her from the harm and ridicule, as the society and laws allowed him. He is the feminist character in whose portrayal the novel doesn’t do enough justice. After all, wouldn’t the male feminists of today be considered sissy in a publicly-acknowledged patriarchal society?

The assignment was much longer and had gone beyond word-limit, but Professor Siddhartha Sen read on without taking his eyes off the notebook even once. By the time he finished, a smile was playing on his lips. A smile, which if it were seen publicly, would have surprised his colleagues as well as students. He was known as a good, but an extremely demanding teacher.  He wasn’t ill-tempered, but he wasn’t amiable either. In particular, he was a strict disciplinarian. He reached his class five minutes before the scheduled time, started the lecture at exactly the scheduled time, and once the lecture started, he wouldn’t allow anyone to enter the class, even if they were late only by a minute or a half. Deadlines for his assignments were similarly strict to the last minute. He collected them from his mailbox right at the deadline and even if others came in while he was still collecting them, they won’t be graded.  Not even a missing comma escaped his attention while grading the tests and not failing his course was enough of an achievement even for the best of the students. And he didn’t smile.

—

Karishma’s eyes widened when she looked at the notebook returned by the teaching assistant. Mou, her best friend, peeped in almost at the same time and shrieked. “OMFG.  Karishma Gupta. Ten on ten. On an English assignment? From SS of all people?”

“Hush Mou. Until I see this on the final grade-sheet, I do not believe it. I think he had intended a zero. By mistake a line has been drawn before it and it looks like ten. This is not expected of Mr. Perfectionist, is it?”

“Oh shut up, you sly creature. If you don’t want me to read you assignment, just say so.”

“Read it, if you wish. It’s not like he is going to give the same assignment again,” she carelessly flung the notebook at Mou, who caught it with some difficulty. Then she coolly reminded her, “But you would do better to rush to the class. He is giving a quiz today, do you remember?”

“Damn this continuous evaluation. And SS takes it to heart. Other professors are not so keen on giving tests every week.”

Another surprise awaited Karishma, once the test was over.

“I will need help in carrying these papers to my room. The TA is absent,” Siddhartha Sen said to nobody in particular after collecting the test papers from students.Then suddenly he looked at her, “Ms. Gupta. Would you mind carrying them?”

Karishma was too nonplussed with his request to take note of everybody’s eyes on her. The question in her mind, and in those eyes was the same, however. ‘Siddhartha Sen knows her by name?’

She got up looking dazed, picked up one stack of test papers and followed him silently to his office.

—

“There… On the right side on the desk,” he told her where to keep the papers. “You assignment was quite interesting.”

“Huh?” she was startled.

“Are you unwell? You look lost.”

“No. No… Thank you. But I am fine. I was just a little preoccupied.”

“Preoccupied?”

“There are more tests today. This continuous evaluation is getting on our nerves.”

“Well… At least, it keeps you all on your toes.”

“Keeps making us prepare for tests all the time. Leaves little time to study.”

“Ah! Students are dying to study otherwise, you mean?” he raised an eyebrow.

“I cannot speak for everyone, but even those who do want to study, cannot.”

“Hmm… Anyway. I was saying that your assignment was interestingly written. Although there is a lot of scope for debate, the originality was commendable.”

Her face flushed despite herself. It was indeed ten on ten then. She wasn’t being bashful in front of Mou. She indeed hadn’t been sure of that, having done the assignment recklessly.

“Thank you, Sir,” she managed to mumble before leaving.

Siddhartha could not suppress a smile seeing her walking away hurriedly as if bitten by something.

—

To be continued

Unbounded Love (Part 10)

Posted Mish8 CommentsPosted in English, Mukundo-Piyali, Original

When he came to her room in the evening, she made haste, and tried to lock the door from inside. But her hands were trembling, and try as she might; she was unable to bolt it. Mukundo went behind her, held her hand and helped her with the task. She was not in the least bit embarrassed. She immediately turned back and hugged him, as tight as she could manage with one hand. He reciprocated and soon felt her tears wetting his kurta.

“Hey!” He pulled back slightly to look at her face. “What happened? Everything is all right now, right?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“Because of my uncertainties, you had to talk about things that you didn’t want to talk about.”

“It’s not like that, Piyali. I should have told you. You deserve to know everything about me. Just that… So much was already going on. I didn’t have the heart to dig up these ghosts of past.”

“Yes. I understand.”

He smiled, “Yes, you do. You understand me like nobody can. In future, don’t listen to others, even if it is your mother, and don’t run away like that. Talk to me, if you have an issue, okay?”

She nodded.

“And you must know that I would have told you someday, sooner rather than later. So, don’t mistrust me about that.”

She nodded again, like an obedient child.

“And since it is the time of confessions, there is one more. Hopefully it isn’t a big deal. Piyali – I haven’t been completely… I have had relationships. But never anything serious. It was always with the understanding that it can’t lead to anything. So, if you do come across someone sometime, don’t worry, all right?”

She blushed hard at that. There was something curious and amusing about her blushing. She had told to him about her sleeping with Ahwaan before wedding without as much as sign of embarrassment.  And at his confessions she was blushing like a school-girl. But there was something endearing about it too. Then she wasn’t talking to a lover, or about love. Then it was clinical – just a description of what had happened. Now, she was enjoying being a girl in love, listening to her lover’s confessions and blushing. Everything will be all right from now on. He embraced her again and protectively stroked her head.

He was surprised to feel her breath growing quicker and her tip of nose nudging against his chest.

“Piyali,” he whispered. She looked up at him with soft, moist eyes. Her lips were parted, practically screaming to him to take her.

“If I want you, you would want me, right?” she said. That was rather bold from someone giving that school-girlish blush just a while back. But this also showed that she was now confident about their relationship.

“Very much,” he replied, strongly aware of his increasing heart beats. “But somebody might come…”

“Nobody’s home. Ma is at the temple, With Shanta, and Promila Kaki. Everybody else is in servant’s quarters.”

“I’m not carrying protection…”

“I am safe…”

“So, you have decided to make me sin tonight,” he said as he brushed his lips against her neck. She moaned softly.

He wondered if they should wait until wedding. But quickly concluded that he couldn’t. The divorce will take time, and Ahwaan may even create troubles. If he didn’t have to wait, what was wrong today? If anything, it was perfect because today she wanted it. And nothing is life gave him more pleasure than doing what she wanted. Especially when what she wanted was to be loved by him.

He led her to the bed and held her close sitting on the edge. “I should be saying that I have imagined this moment so many times. But the fact is, Piyali, that I haven’t. I was too scared. I felt that if I as much as dreamt of it, you would know and would vanish from my life forever.”

“But I have dreamt of it,” she interrupted surprising him, “A thousand times since my adolescence. I have dreamt of it so often that I thought its reality can only be absurd.”

“I hope that’s not the case.”

“Not at all.”

“Tell me if you are uncomfortable,” he said as he laid her down and started kissing her all over. She could not help thinking that even in their best days, Ahwaan was never this solicitous of her comfort and pleasure. A few days back, Mukundo had surprised her by expressing just how passionately he felt for her. But here in the bed, he was just the same gentle, caring Mukundo Babu she had always imagined. And the way even her weak and sick body was responding to him, she knew that she could get used to it.

—

She woke up and stretched herself. Then she recalled what had happened. She looked around. He wasn’t here. After they were done, she had drifted off to sleep in his arms. But right now, she was fully clothed and tucked in. She looked at the clock. 9 ‘o clock. At night? Ma would have come back long ago. Good thing he didn’t stay in with her. But how come… He must have put her clothes back on. She blushed hard thinking of it. And then felt stupid. She hadn’t felt shy while practically begging him to take her to bed. And now she was blushing at the thought of… ‘I am a silly girl,’ she told herself, not uncharitably, rather feeling extremely happy.

She got out of her bed and went to the hall. The dinner was being served. “Pihu. You are up finally? How soundly you were sleeping. Mukundo has been waiting for so long. We were about to have dinner. Come join us…”

Her mother was still blabbering when she sat beside her. Her eyes met Mukundo’s. She noticed a knowing smile in them, and she blushed despite herself. Her mother, thankfully, either did not notice or did not think much of it. They had dinner. For most part the conversation was kept up by Debangi, who told them about various people she met at the temple.

Piyali was hardly listening. She was thinking about her situation. Her love, her life, her happiness had been right in front of her eyes all these years. But she had failed to recognize it. It took a disastrous marriage, a slit wrist and a dysfunctional hand for her to recognize and get it. Wouldn’t it have been nice, if it hadn’t been so hard? But probably it was for good. If she had gotten it too easily, she might not have valued it as much as she valued it now. She looked up at Mukundo. He was replying to something Debangi was saying. Her heart overflowed with such love for him that she almost felt like hugging and kissing him right there. But her mother’s presence restrained her. She looked at her mother and tried to make sense of the conversation, failing utterly at it.

“Mukundo. You were waiting for Pihu to wake up. What for?” Debangi said after they were done with the dinner.

He smiled and went to Piyali, “I was wondering, if you would…” he took out a jewelry box from his pocked, “accept it?” He opened it to reveal a ring.

Her eyes moistened and she felt like she would end up crying. She controlled herself with some effort. He didn’t realize it, but she had recognized the ring. Although Mukundo had avoided being around when she and Ahwaan were doing any wedding shopping together, while buying the ring for her, he had ended up being with them, probably because no car other than his was available for them.  Piyali had seen him eying this ring. When he was away, she had shown it to Ahwaan. But he had rejected it immediately thinking it was too plain. Piyali had not been able to insist after that, though she had really wanted to buy it. Today, her wish was fulfilled. Just then the cruel reality hit her. She made to lift her left hand, but… Mukundo didn’t miss noticing that. Before any signs of mortification could appear on her face, he quickly lifted her right hand and slipped the ring on it. She could not hold back now. She started sobbing and leaned on him, not bothering that her mother was watching them. Mukundo hesitated and looked at Debangi, but only saw a smile on her lips and tears is her eyes. There was no sign of disapproval. Relaxed, he put his hand around Piyali and comforted her.

She stepped back after a while looking embarrassed, but smiling. “Thank you,” she mumbled.

“By the way,” he said jocularly to lighten to mood, “Kaki tells me that you haven’t slept as well in several days. What did you do today? You should do it more often.”

She blushed at that rolling his eyes at him.

“I mean whatever you ate must be good,” he added with a grin; then he gestured to her to touch Debangi’s feet for her blessing. They went to her together and bent down. But she stopped them midway and hugged them together. “May God bless you both,” she said, “I am so happy today!”

– The End –

Unbounded Love (Part 9)

Posted Mish7 CommentsPosted in English, Mukundo-Piyali, Original

Debangi wasn’t surprised to see that Mukundo had brought Piyali back, when she was sent a message that Mukundo wanted to her to come over to his house. They were sitting in his bedroom, silently, both lost in their own thoughts.

“Kaki!” Mukundo stood up deferentially, when Debangi entered and apologized, “I am sorry for giving you the trouble. I should have come over, but there was something I wanted to show you.”

Piyali looked at him startled. What was he going to show to his mother? Not that chamber, she hoped. It was romantic, but would be extremely awkward to show to her mother.

Debangi looked as uncomfortable as the two of them. She had been non-committal when Mukundo had spoken to her. She had just said that she would talk to Piyali. She had also said that she didn’t intend to do it immediately, because she really wanted her to recover first. Mukundo had agreed to her. But when she had gone into her daughter’s room just to sit with her for a while, she had gotten a glimpse of the portrait she was making. It had made her unsure about postponing the talk. If she got too emotionally involved… And she had ended up speaking to her quite unprepared. She wondered if Mukundo would question her on her haste.

She was relieved when he didn’t get into that. But the conversation was not quite comfortable even otherwise.

“Kaki. You have apprehensions about us,” he shot a brief look at Piyali, who was sitting with her eyes downcast and her hand on her lap. “Why didn’t you tell me? What makes you think that Piyali won’t be happy…”

“It’s not her that I am worried about, Mukundo. But you. I am not that selfish about my daughter that I’d forget how you have been more than a son to me…”

“Worried about me, because I have rejected ‘better’ woman?” he interrupted remembering what Piyali had said. That must have come from Debangi.

“Well – yes…”

“Kaki. Have you wondered why I rejected all of them?”

Even Piyali looked up at this. But neither she, nor Debangi replied.

Mukundo continued, “I don’t like to talk about this, Kaki. I have never told anyone. Not even you or Piyali. But today…”

Mukundo was about fourteen-years old, when he had accidentally discovered the dark truth about his ostensibly upright father.  He had another family. A wife, children. Three of them. Mukundo was the only child from his mother. He had also realized, to his utter astonishment, that his mother knew. But she continued to pretend that everything was all right with her family life. That was more comfortable than confront a truth which could have no pleasant resolution.

His mother might have reconciled herself to a loveless, but outwardly perfect, family life, but at that tender age, Mukundo could not come to terms with it. He was devastated at the idea that his father was not true to them. Unable to talk to anyone at home, and not knowing how to deal with his emotions, he had ended up finding solace in the wrong kind of company.  It had started with drinking and smoking. Then but one hot summer day, he was going to try drugs, when five-year-old Piyali had run into him.

“Where are you going?”

“To my friends.”

“I am bored. Take me with you.”

“You can’t go there.”

“Why not?”

He had tried his best to divert her attention, but something had come upon her that day. She just wouldn’t let Mukundo leave without her. She cried, threw tantrums, and physically clung to him. Debangi remembered the incident. She had also tried to make Piyali understand. But nothing had worked that day. She had to have Mukundo Babu to play with her that day.

“She had saved me that day, Kaki,” Mukundo said presently, “And had given me a purpose. Not only did I not try drugs on that day, but I was also forced to think. Ma’s stoicism had made me believe that there were no real connections in the world. People didn’t expect anything from each other. There was no point of affections, of relationships. It was all just a farce. But that day I saw how much trust Piyali put in me. If someday she realized what kind of a wasted person I was on the way of becoming, how broken would she feel. For her sake, I resolved on being right and not wasting my life. She became my anchor in life. Her well-being became my only purpose. And I rejected all those ‘better woman’, Kaki, because my life was devoted to her. And irrespective of where she went with her life, I knew that I will not be true to any other woman I married. I didn’t want to be what Baba was. And if you don’t believe she has this effect on me, see this.” He opened a cupboard and they found it filled with empty whiskey bottles. “This is what those six months – when she away after her wedding – had done to me.  More than this actually. I emptied it from time to time, when no one was watching. Didn’t want anyone to know and worry.”

Debangi and Piyali stared at him in astonishment. “I know what other question you have in mind,” he continued, “If that was so, why didn’t I say anything earlier? Why did I let her get married, even defended her choice before you?  But somewhere in your heart you know the answer, Kaki. I stayed silent because it was an awkward proposition. She is much younger to me, and I have known her since her childhood. In your heart you know that your objection was not only because you thought it was not a good match, but also because it sounded weird. You had not expected this. I didn’t want to say something and lose her forever. So – yes. That’s why it took a misfortune to hit her for me to open my mouth.”

Piyali noticed that he didn’t blame her and her rejection at all. He didn’t want her to feel even an iota of guilt.

There wasn’t much left for Debangi to say after this. She was shocked to hear about his father though. “Aurbindo Da! It is so difficult to believe, Mukundo.”

“I know. But I am not defaming my father for the heck of it.”

“No… No… Of course not.” She was obviously disturbed. How impossible it was to know people, even when they were so close to you. Who could have thought that Aurbindo Thakur had a secret life? Who could be blamed for not understanding Ahwaan? But she was sure that she understood Mukundo. And she would go with his decision. That has to be right for both him and her daughter. If there was any social awkwardness, she would figure out how to deal with it.

“Go home, Piyali. I need to go to the university for a while. I will come in the evening.”

She was unwilling to go away from him just then. But she was too shy to say so. And if he had work to do…

—

To be continued

Unbounded Love (Part 8)

Posted Mish4 CommentsPosted in English, Mukundo-Piyali, Original

She looked at the watch. It was barely noon time. He would be in the university at least until six. Exams were going on. He was busy. She went to his house and ran straight to the chamber. He had given her a key. She stood in the middle of the room and looked all around. All those beautiful portraits. But the girl she had seen in the mirror was not the one in these pictures. Neither physically, nor emotionally. She was damaged at both places. Ma was right. He had rejected many better girls. This won’t do… won’t do at all…

She broke down sobbing. After a while, she managed to lock the door and go to a bathroom without being noticed by his house staff. She washed her face and stayed there, until her face looked normal.

“Ma. I want to go to Baadi,” she told her mother after coming back. They referred to their native village as  Baadi.

“You do? Why?” Debangi was surprised. Piyali had never liked visiting the place. She found staying in the village too inconvenient.

“I need to get away for a while, Ma. I am getting restless here. I will stay there until my job starts.”

“But Pihu…” her mother hesitated.

“What happened, Ma?. Send Shanta with me. I will have no troubles. She will take care of things there.”

“That’s fine, Shona. But you know… people are too nosy there. Instead of feeling better, you might…”

“I will stay inside, Ma. I am not going to meet anybody.” The house and gardens were very big there. If human company was not essential, one would not need to go out.

Debangi sympathized with her need to get away. She sent up a silent prayer to Goddess Durga to grant her daughter some peace of mind. If this is what it took, then so be it. “Fine. When do you want to go?”

“Right away.”

“Right away?”

“Yes. Its barely two hand a half hours by car. I will reach before sunset. I will ask Shanta to pack. Will you call the driver?”

“Fine.”

—

Mukundo was nonplussed to hear of Piyali’s departure. She didn’t tell him, didn’t call him, didn’t even leave him a note. What was going on?

“Has something happened, Kaki?”

“No Mukundo. She just wanted a break. I thought it would do her good.”

But he was restless. She was alone again. What if… He shuddered to think of it. Debangi looked calm enough. Still, he could not be at peace. Talking to her even on phone was not possible. Mobile networks didn’t work in the village. The only mode of communication was local phone booth. He thought he would call there, but Debangi stopped him.

“She doesn’t want to meet people, Mukundo. You know how nosy they can get. If you call on the phone booth, everyone will know.”

He had to give up on the idea. Due to exams in the university, he could not get leave for at least three more days.

—

Piyali had done nothing other than eating, sleeping and working on his portrait since she had come to her village house.  She wasn’t thinking about anything. Not even about him, even while working on the portrait. In just a few months, her simple life had become terribly complex. And she wanted to run away from it.

Her easel was placed in the large verandah of the house. She was trying to get those eyebrows correct, and was struggling with it, when she heard a creak on the main door. Who could have come? Did Shanta go around talking to the neighbors? Did the driver get the vegetables from the village market instead of going to the main road, as she had instructed him? But when she saw the visitor, she forgot to breathe. All that she didn’t want to think about came rushing back to her. She felt a strange sense of relief as well as annoyance.

Mukundo had come prepared to demand answers from her. How could she just run away without as much as informing him? What was she thinking? But when he saw her awestruck, lovely face, he forgot all about that. He ran to her and drew her in an embrace. Then he tried to kiss her, but she avoided it.

“I am sorry,” he let her go with an embarrassed grin. He assumed that she was afraid of someone being around, “I got carried away.”

She smiled weakly. Having gotten over his initial elation, he also remembered his grouse, “I am mad at you, Piyali What were you thinking? How could you just come away… Kaki won’t let me call up at the phone booth… And I couldn’t come after you because of exams… And you didn’t even leave a message…”

She looked at him as if not aware of him talking at all. The eyebrows. Ah, right! They were shapely, soft – almost like a woman’s. How had she not noticed them earlier? He might know everything about her. She didn’t know anything about him. What kind of a wife would she make him? And she looked at him from head to toe. How many times had she heard the women, young and old alike, talking in the neighborhood about how handsome he was and how difficult it would be to find a wife for him who would be as beautiful? And she remembered how awful she had looked in the mirror. Sickly, pale, handicapped… What kind of wife would she make him?

“Piyali!” he shook her this time, frowning.

“You must be tired, Mukundo Babu. Did you drive yourself? Would you have something to eat? Some tea… I will ask Shanta…” she made to go away, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

“What is going on? I have not come here for food or tea. You are coming back with me.”

“I will stay here, Mukundo Babu.”

“Why? You hate this place. And how will you stay here? No electricity, no generators…”

“Mukundo Babu. It wasn’t your fault,” she said suddenly.

“What? What wasn’t my fault?”

“What happened to me… My wedding or my depression and suicide attempt…”

“So?”

“Let me stay away from you, Mukundo Babu. If you see me all the time, it must cloud your mind and your decisions get affected. ”

“What is wrong with you, Piyali? What are you thinking? I had bared my heart to you. Do you not believe that I really, genuinely love you?”

“I believe that, Mukundo Babu. But Ma is also right. You have rejected better women in past. I am a bad choice for you…”

“Ma? Kaki has said something? What?”

She gulped and stayed silent.

“But she wasn’t supposed to… Pack your stuff, Piyali. We are going now. Or rather let Shanta pack it up and come back with your driver tomorrow. Come with me right now.”

“But…”

“Are you not going to listen to me, at all? Are you going to make be beg you?”

There was nothing she could do after that except to follow him silently. “Do you need to eat or take medicines?” he asked before leaving.

She shook her head. She had just finished her lunch and had her medicine.

—

To be continued

Unbounded Love (Part 7)

Posted Mish3 CommentsPosted in English, Mukundo-Piyali, Original

Finally he tore his eyes away from the painting and looked at her. He held her by her shoulders and said, “You are so silent. Say something.”

She needed to collect all her strength and willpower to speak after hearing what she had heard. “There was so much going on… All these years… And you never said anything to me, Mukundo Babu. Why?”

“Yes… I don’t know,” he looked lost, “May be because there was so much to say… Or may be because there was so much at stake… I just couldn’t imagine losing your affection, Piyali. And you are so much younger. I din’t know… And really… I do love your in many ways… Oh – I can talk so much. But aren’t you tired? You should sit…”

“No,” she interrupted resolutely, “I am not tired. Please do talk, Mukundo Babu. Tell me everything. I didn’t even know something as simple as this that you go for camping and trekking. Why did you never come with me?”

“You never invited me,” he teased her to lighten up the conversation a little, which had grown very overwhelming for both of them.

But she flushed with embarrassment on hearing that.

“I was joking,” he clarified.

“But it wasn’t a joke,” she smiled weakly and then grew thoughtful. She was searching for passion. And she couldn’t have imagined that Mukundo Babu – the quintessential professor of Philosophy, brooding over such things that she thought were beyond her, worrying about  her safety, treating her with care and gentleness all the time – that Mukundo Babu could harbor such passion for her. How deceptive appearances were!

“Piyali…” She came out of her thoughts on hearing him and looked at him with moist eyes. He had said that he understood every expression of hers. But she wasn’t sure that her face could even express everything she was feeling just then. Love and gratitude were most prominent, of course. But she was also embarrassed, and apologetic, and hopeful and a lot more that she didn’t even understand!

“Don’t ask me to say anything, Mukundo Babu. I understand all you say. But I don’t know how to articulate myself like you. Someday, may be, in my simple ways, I will be able to talk sensibly. But today, nothing I say could possibly make sense… ”

“You don’t need to say anything then. But could you answer one question for me… In yes or no. And I will be at peace either ways. So, you don’t…”

“Yes.”

“I haven’t asked the question yet.”

“Yes. Want me, Mukundo Babu. Take me, if you will,” she said and leaned on him. He put his arms around her, gently at first, but soon it became a bone-crushing hug.

“Let’s go back,” he said grinning happily, “I really have to grade those assignment. And I think those whom I grade now would be the happier lot.”

She blushed hard and chuckled; then asked, “Can I come back to this room?” She had noticed the portraits from her childhood. She was almost sure to find herself in cradle in one of them.

“Who else is this for?”

When they reached her home, she asked him to wait before starting on his work. He watched curiously, as she opened her cupboard and brought out a poster-sized paper – folded in four.

“I was trying to make a portrait of Ahwaan soon after… But after sketching, I had to stop and hide it away,” she explained as she unfolded it.

There was no mistaking it. She had ended up sketching his face. Mukundo gazed at it for a long while, and overcome by emotions and passions, he pulled her close and attacked her lips, giving her a long, hard, wet kiss. Tears came to her eyes by the time he pulled back.

“Take rest, now. Take a nap,” he told her, making no attempt to hide how he was choking at every word, “You are still weak, and today must have been so exhausting.”

Her exhaustion, mixed with elation, was making her feel light-headed. She could sleep it off, she decided, and nodded to him.

—

Piyali was inspired again. She had set up an easel and was sketching a face. A relaxed smile played on her lips as she drew. There was no conflict in her heart now. She knew exactly who she was drawing and how she would draw it. But she was interrupted by her mother.

“Come, Ma,” she covered the sketch. Mukundo had said that he would talk to Debangi, but Piyali didn’t know if he had already done so. If he hadn’t, being caught drawing Mukundo’s portrait would be an awkward situation for her. There was a reason that he had to hide all her paintings in his forbidden chamber.

“Are you working?”

“No Ma. My job doesn’t start until next month. I was just practicing.”

Debangi sat down on her bed. “What has Mukundo told you?” she asked. The frown on her face didn’t bode well.

“Meaning?” Piyali asked cautiously.

“About… marrying you?” Debangi wasn’t quite comfortable either.

Piyali flushed and stayed silent.

“Pihu… My child. You know that I want nothing better than your happiness. If you could indeed be married again and live happily – nothing like it. But… This won’t do…”

“Why… not, Ma?”

“You are not a child, Pihu. You have been married once. And… it’s nothing to me… I am your mother…. But… you have a handicap. And again… you are my child. You are the best in the world for me… But I have to think about Mukundo, too, don’t I? He has rejected much better girls, Pihu. His family has done so much for us after your Baba’s death. When I go up there, my child, what will I tell his mother? That after he rejected so many of them, I saddled him with him with you after all this mess…”

“But Ma,” tears came to her eyes, “He wants it… doesn’t he?”

“If he wanted it, Pihu, wouldn’t he have spoken earlier? Would he have let you get married? Even pushed for the match? What has happened is that he feels guilty and he is trying to amend for it. But that just isn’t right on my or your part. At the end of the day, it is not his fault.”

“But Ma…” she was agitated and lost. She couldn’t form her arguments. She didn’t have his eloquence. What had he said? About loving her in more ways than one. But.. how was she to explain it to her mother? Under the effect of her mother’s words, she herself grew uncertain. Probably she was right. Didn’t he keep apologizing for not doing the right thing? For promoting the match without even meeting Ahwaan? For failing her? Damn it! She had been a fool.

“Don’t get me wrong, my child. But I don’t want you to repeat a mistake. And anyway, there is time. It will take time to get divorce….”

She nodded absent-mindedly, too busy with her own thoughts. After her mother left, she went to the dresser and took a good look at herself in the mirror. How had she not paid attention to this earlier? How horrible did she look! Sunken eyes, hollow cheeks, darkened skin and then… right there… that limping arm… Ugly, damaged and handicapped – outside and inside. What kind of wife would she make him? She could visualize him as if she was right there. Tall, broad shouldered, criminally fair, shapely jaws, that charming smile, that brooding, thoughtful and intellectual look… And it didn’t just end at that look. That look perfectly reflected how wise, mature and generous he was at heart…. What kind of wife would she indeed make him?

—

To be continued

Unbounded Love (Part 6)

Posted Mish2 CommentsPosted in English, Mukundo-Piyali, Original

Her face flushed, but she didn’t reply.

“This is agonizing, Piyali. Why are you silent?”

“I am so uncertain about everything right now, Mukundo Babu… Talking to you has made me feel much, much better. But… I am confused about… well… about everything… About even living…”

“I understand,” he interrupted her agitated rambling, “And I am sorry, it became so overwhelming for you today. Things I did today…” He paused and thought of how he had laid her on the bed and kissed her. “Or what I said…” He paused again thinking how he had tried to persuade her to accept him. “I hadn’t planned any of them. They just happened. And I won’t talk more. There is no pressure on you. There never was. There never will be. You understand that, right?” he sounded desperate by now and she relieved him of his misery by nodding.

“But you have to do one thing for me, Piyali.”

“What is it?”

“See a counsellor. Talk things out. Get well, Piyali. Else I will never be able to forgive myself for failing you so miserably, for looking the other way, when I should have helped you make right decision.”

“I will do whatever you want. Don’t blame yourself, please…”

“That’s like the brave princess I know,” he smiled and stroked her hair affectionately, “Who lives life on her own terms.”

—

Mukundo was grading some assignments, while keeping Piyali company. He was aware that she was not quite into the book she was reading and was looking up at him time and again. He ended up asking finally. “What is it?”

“Is your grading urgent?”

“No,” he immediately put aside the notebook he was reading and looked at her, “It can wait. What is it?”

“I wanted to… talk to you about… about my counselling.”

She had said that she wanted it, but she looked so nervous that Mukundo felt uncertain. “Are you sure?” he had to ask.

“Yes. Actually, my counsellor wanted me to have a ‘talk’ with you…” she smiled nervously.

“Go on,” he leaned forward and was even more attentive now.

“She wanted me to try and find out… why… when you are so nice to me and when I feel comfortable sharing everything with you… why am I still intimidated by you?”

“You are intimidated by me?” he asked calmly, without looking offended or surprised.

“That… that was the conclusion… as she probed and I talked.. Over the sessions… Don’t be angry…”

He smiled weakly, “That shows that you are indeed intimidated by me. Else, why would you think I would be angry? I sent you to counselling. Precisely for this. So that we could clear your head up.”

“But it isn’t cleared up yet.”

“So, why are you intimidated by me?”

“But I am not… It’s not like I am scared in your presence or anything…”

“Then, why didn’t you talk to me when things were going so wrong in your life?”

“That… I was…” she couldn’t finish and grew thoughtful. He let the silence prevail until she spoke again. “I was afraid of what you would think of me. How I would disappoint you. You had put your trust in me…”

“You were afraid of being proven wrong before me?”

“I… guess… so…”

He frowned and rubbed his temples. She nervously tugged at and twitched the bedsheet. She spoke again after a few moments of silence. “It wasn’t always so, Mukundo Babu.” He looked up questioningly. She repeated and continued, “It wasn’t always so. I was often wrong before you, and you corrected me. It had felt quite natural that I should need your help and I might be wrong. It had never bothered me. Not until…”

He didn’t ask her to go on. He understood. It wouldn’t have bothered her if she hadn’t been aware that he considered her a potential life-partner, an equal.

“But you didn’t want me, Piyali. Why should it have bothered you any more than earlier?” he asked.

She downcast her eyes without replying. Then she responded with a question of her own. “Why did you want me, Mukundo Babu? Why would you still want me?” He saw her eyes automatically turning to her still non-functional left hand. Physiotherapy hadn’t been particularly effective.

“If I answered, will it help you feel better?”

“I think so,” she was still not meeting his eyes.

“Let’s go to my home and talk.”

“Why?”

“Just come…”

—

Piyali’s heart beat hard with anxiety and anticipation as he led her to the forbidden chamber.  She had never been there. Nobody had been, as far as she knew. What Shikha had called his ‘little’ chamber, was, in fact, a large room. Piyali stood stupefied for several minutes.

“When did you do all this?” she asked finally.

“I have been doing this all my life,” he said and then added with a soft laughter, “Or all your life, to be more precise.” The walls were adorned with her portraits. All painted by him, as was obvious to her from the style.

“You have left me speechless, Mukundo Babu,” her voice quivered, “I don’t know what to say…”

“That’s okay,” he had grown serious, “It is my turn to talk and explain and hopefully do so without overwhelming you… But if I do surprise or discomfort you, you just have to tell me to stop… Okay?”

She nodded.

He took her hands and led her to a smaller painting, “You probably do not recognize this. You haven’t seen yourself like this. I have.” He was only being rhetorical. The painting showed her on a hospital bed, unconscious. She needn’t have seen herself like that to know what time he was talking about. He knew that too. He continued without explaining anything about the painting, “When you weren’t yet conscious, doctors feared much worse than just a paralysis of hand.  And for the first time in my adult life, I had prayed. I had prayed to Ma Durga that She should let you live even if every single muscle of your body was paralyzed. I had told Her that I would make up for everything your body will not do  and will serve you all my life, but She should let you live. I had prayed for what would have been very cruel to you, Piyali. But you have known what being in love is like. So, I think you will understand my desperation. ”

She downcast her eyes, although he wasn’t looking at her. His eyes were fixed on the painting. He, as usual, credited her for what she was not. She did not know what being in love was like. Not like him, anyway. What she had known was a heady rush of stupidity.  But standing there, in that room, beside him, she might finally have begun to understand what love was really like. Or getting her first lesson in it, at least.

“You asked me why I wanted you. I am also human, Piyali. I have my weaknesses. I might have acted on them at times. But truth is that I don’t want you. If you don’t want me, I don’t want you. I only love you. And I couldn’t stop loving you or start hating you, just because you rejected me as a lover. Because my love is not for one thing. I love you in more ways than one. Yes, of course, I love this beautiful girl in your, Piyali. You have these expressive eyes, full of curiosity, wondrous, child-like. They haven’t lost their innocence even after they have seen some of the worst the life has to offer. You may not remain beautiful forever. An accident may happen… But I l will still love you because I also love the familiarity I have with you. I know every expression of your face; I know the meaning of every move of yours… You springy gait, your lazy ambling, your stooping, listless walk… I know them all. I can recognize every single stroke of yours in your paintings… I can recognize your singing even if your voice is at its faintest… And I love knowing it all! But all this might also change. Or I might lose the ability to see. But will I stop loving you? No, Piyali. Because I love talking Philosophy with you too. You say you don’t talk profoundly. But you talk simply, Piyali, and still make sense. Which fool wouldn’t love that? But let’s say you are not profound enough. You had said you like frivolous things. I also love flattering you. And I love you in a nice dress and when I see one, I want to buy it for you.  And I love trekking and camping, although you didn’t know it. But if you and I stop enjoying all this, then what? Even then I can’t stop loving you, Piyali. Because one thing won’t change, I am sure of that. You will still continue to understand me. Like you have always understood me. Like you understand me now, whether I am being profound or silly, whether I almost stalk you, worried about your safety from weeds, or whether I am scared of being jealous and doing wrong by you! Even if not a single muscle of your body had worked, Piyali, I knew that you would have understood me, and you would have anchored my life. Always!”

—

To be continued

Unbounded Love (Part 5)

Posted Mish4 CommentsPosted in English, Mukundo-Piyali, Original

Early on, Ahwaan had started asking her about how their money and property was managed at home.  Piyali could give only sketchy responses as Mukundo looked after most of it and Debangi had the signing authority. Piyali hadn’t bothered herself about it. She didn’t think much of his questions until he started pestering her for letting him manage the money. He wanted to have his own investment firm and this would help him get started. She told him that the money was managed by Mukundo, and it couldn’t be otherwise.

“But Piyali, you had only had to tell me. If you wanted him to manage the money, what objection could I have?”

“But I didn’t want him to, Mukudno Babu,” she said a quivering voice, “There is more…”

“I’m sorry. Please go on…”

Was he one of those frauds that finance industry is littered with, he wondered. It wasn’t like he had been able to do any harm to the family money, though. Why was she so guilty?

“You would ask me on phone what was wrong, and I didn’t know how to answer it. I had thought he was passionate. And that’ what had attracted me so fatally to him. But he was paranoid, Mukundo Babu. He was worried about every minute I was not in front of his eyes. He would call up on the landline to check if I was at home. He would want me to tell him everything about my phone conversations with anyone. Even with you and Ma. After a few days, he started checking my phone’s history because he suspected that I wasn’t telling him who I talked to… And then he accused me of deleting the history…  Or not informing him about a friend I had called up…”

She could see his muscles quivering in anger, but she continued talking. She couldn’t stop herself if she wanted. She had been holding it all inside her all this while, but now it wasn’t in her power to stop.

“I once asked him why he was so paranoid and why did he not trust me. He said the most horrible thing…” she paused here and hesitated.

“Go on, Piyali,” he spoke through his clenched teeth, as gently as he could manage, “There is nothing you cannot tell me. Don’t hesitate, not even for a moment.”

“He said – if you could sleep with me when we were not married, what was the guarantee that you would not sleep with someone else now? Especially…”

“Especially?”

She gulped hard, “You. He thought we have always…”

“Is that why you had stopped talking to me?” he asked sounding calm, even though a storm was raging within him.

She shook her head.

“Then?”

“I left his house the day he raised his hands on me… I continued pretending before Ma. But… I knew I would not be able to lie to you. And I didn’t know how to face you… You had trusted me blindly. You had persuaded Ma about him…” The tears that had stopped while she had talked reappeared.

“I swear, Piyali, he will go behind bars for this torture…”

The chill and determination in his voice unnerved her. “Mukundo Babu, please. I don’t want any of that. I just… just want a divorce and be done with him.”

He noticed the effect of his anger on her and took a deep breath to calm himself down. Then he held her close and said, “None of this was your fault…”

“But it was…” she replied with a downcast eyes, “I should have introduced him to you earlier. But I had kept putting it off. Because somewhere, in the depth of my heart… I knew you wouldn’t approve of him. He was nothing like you, even when he was at his best…” She lifted her eyes and looked at him before continuing, “I was really surprised when you approved the match without even meeting him…” She stopped as she noticed him averting his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, “I failed you…”

“You had said…” she stopped as she noticed the look of guilt on his face. She understood what had happened, “You did that because you thought I would accuse you of jealousy otherwise?”

“You, Piyali, had been generous and sporting about my feelings even though they were so unacceptable to you. You did not out me, nor did you embarrass me at any point of time. You would not have accused me of anything. But I wasn’t so sure of myself at that point. I have always only wanted you happiness. I had no intentions of ever telling you… And till you didn’t know, I knew I could always act in your best interest, even if it would hurt me. But knowing that you knew… It had put me in a strange frame of mind. I didn’t trust myself at all…”

“You are so humble about me, Mukundo Babu, as if I am some… But Mukundo Babu, Shikha, and you, had heard only part of my opinion. And it was quite stupid. Because I had thought that I needed a life partner who was passionate and wild, so that I could be wild with him too. What I didn’t realize was that I could be wild because you were always there, grounded, to support me if I fell, and to guide me if I strayed. I was so utterly wrong. But there is another part…” her voice trailed.

“What is it?” Mukundo asked anxiously.

She smiled at him sadly, “There is nothing profound in it, Mukundo Babu. Thing is, I cannot say anything profound. I cannot fathom depths of your wisdom, knowledge and feelings. I am an ordinary girl. I enjoy frivolous things.” She repeated her exact thoughts from that day, when she had that fateful conversation with Shikha, “A little flattery, a nice dress, a trek up the hills and camping in jungles. And apart from being superficial in my tastes, now I have also proved myself to be an idiot, who does not know right from wrong. What more? I am an invalid too,” she instinctively touched her left hand, “What would you do with someone like me, Mukundo Babu? I’m no good for you.” She felt a lump forming in her throat and turned away from him.

He went around to face her again. She wasn’t crying, but was so sad and miserable that he could not help drawing her in a tight embrace. “I will tell you everything that is wrong with your opinion of yourself,” he said as he released her still holding her close, “But right now you tell me this. Do you think I am any good for you? If yes, then try me. And if I am not the happiest person in the world with you, then you can do whatever you want with me.”

—

To be continued