Mish' Fiction

“Will she be up for it, Mukundo?” Debangi was not convinced.

“Kaki. She has always enjoyed outdoors. She is feeling suffocated and depressed inside the house. It’s just a day-long outing, and I will be there with her.”

“As you think fit. Take her, once she feels strong enough… I don’t know what to do or say any longer. Nothing seems to revive her.”

Mukundo averted his eyes. He always felt so guilty while talking to Debangi about Piyali’s condition.

“What are you talking about?” Piyali appeared in the dining room and walked towards the fridge.

“Pihu! What are you doing here?” her mother was alarmed seeing her walking about by herself. She had needed help until then.

Piyali ignored her and went to the fridge to take out water. She first had to open the door and then use the same hand to take the bottle out. Debangi made to go to help her, but Mukundo stopped her with a silent gesture. Piyali kept the bottle on the fridge and closed the door. She then supported the bottle against a box kept on the fridge top and opened the cap with her right hand. Depositing it on the top of the fridge, she took the bottle and drank from it. Mukundo smiled proudly. Debangi felt her eyes watering. But she controlled her emotions and a barely perceptible smile formed on her lips too.

Piyali managed to keep the bottle back in the fridge with similar effort and turned back to them with questioning eyes. They had still not answered her question.

“Camping. I would like you to come with me to camping,” Mukundo bounced up from the chair and said brightly.

“Camping?” she smiled bitterly, “I don’t have the strength to tie my laces. You expect me to tie the tent-knots?”

“I know how to set up a tent.”

“You do?” she frowned.

“Yes. And we won’t need an elaborate arrangement. It would be a day outing.”

Piyali looked uncertainly from him to Debangi. “You should go, Pihu,” her mother encouraged her. In the little exchange, she had deciphered that despite her apprehensions, the idea clearly excited her daughter.

“When?” Piyali asked.

“Saturday? I don’t have to go to the university.”

“Fine,” Piyali said and went back to her room.

—

“So, how does it look?” Mukundo looked at Piyali cheerfully after he had tied the final knot of their tent.

She smiled, “You do it expertly. I had no idea. And how did you discover this place?”

“During one of my trekkings.”

“Trekking? You go on treks? And do camping?”

“MmmHmm. Come in. It’s ready. We could sit inside for a while. You look tired from trekking.”

She followed his lead and went in. He prepared a make-shift straw bed and asked her to sit down. She was careful, but in trying to sit on the bed at the ground level with no support from her left hand, she lost her balance. She would have fallen back on the bed, but he rushed and supported her in time. Unlike the tea-incident, this time she could not keep her tears in check. They flew unrestrained from her eyes. He held her and looked into her eyes directly for a long minute. Then he gently laid her down.

He ran his hand over both her arms. Her left arm could feel nothing, but the gentleness of the caress was obvious on the right one. Her tears continued to flow, but she kept her eyes locked to his. He positioned himself partly on top of her, avoiding putting his full weight on her. Then he bent down and kissed her forehead. She offered no resistance and he moved to kissing and drinking up her tears. After kissing the tip of her nose, he gave her a quick peck on the lips, but did not follow up with a real kiss there. He positioned one of his hands under her neck, lifting it a little. It made her arch her head and give him access to her neck.  He kissed her neck and collarbone; then removed his hand from under her neck. Tears had stained her cheeks again, as they had never stopped flowing.

“I am not going further,” he said in a thick voice, “Because I don’t know what you want, what you are comfortable with and what is going on in your head.  But I need you to know, Piyali, that you are the best. And what you are doing to yourself is wrong.”

With this he sat up and helped her sit up too.

“If there is anything I have that I can give you, Mukundo Babu,” her eyes were downcast as she spoke, “Take it from me and move on in your life. Don’t continue to fret over me.”

He frowned and bit his lips before replying, stifling the urge to rebuke her strongly. “Even if you think me capable of doing something like that… Even if you are convinced that I can use you and then leave you, even then, about yourself, you will not talk like that. You will not debase yourself like that. Do you understand?”

She covered her face with her hand and started sobbing now. “Don’t expect me to do anything right, Mukundo Babu. I have been a fool all through. I am so, so ashamed of myself…”

His frown deepened on hearing the word ‘ashamed’. He forced her to remove her hand from her face and cupped it. How gentle touch was quite in contrast with the disapproving look he had on his face. “You have to talk to me now. What is this ‘ashamed’ business? What are you ashamed of? That too, with me?”

“Tell me, Piyali,” he urged, speaking softly now, when she did not reply.

“Of my choices. Of my choosing him over you… I was so stupid… I was head over heels in love.”

“There was nothing wrong with that feeling, Piyali. Nothing wrong at all with that. Tell me, what really went wrong? Why did you separate from him? You couldn’t just have changed your mind, right? ”

She stood up with his help. She needed some distance from him to talk. And then she told him everything. Things she discovered about Ahwaan after getting married. It had all felt beautiful in the beginning. She was blissful. Their honeymoon had been great. That much Mukundo had guessed from his conversations with her in the initial days. She tried to be restrained while talking to him, but the nervous excitement she always carried about her betrayed her happiness. And he was happy for her. But after few days, he had noticed changes. She avoided talking much about her life. Sometimes he felt that she was close to tears, though she never admitted so. He had thought that those were signs of troubles. And he hadn’t been wrong.

—

To be continued

Mukundo could not get into a serious conversation with Piyali again while they stayed in Mumbai. Debangi almost never left her side and he did not have the heart to ask her to be away from her ailing daughter. On Debangi’s part, her sole focus was on Piyali’s physical recovery. As far as the reason of the mishap was concerned, she had declared Ahwaan to be a villain and had decided that marrying her daughter outside the community was a mistake. “You can never find out what sort of a person they are, if you don’t know people around them,” she would say. She didn’t bear him any ill-will for encouraging the match. She was only grateful that he was around, as always. But Mukundo himself felt responsible and wretched. His sole consolation was his belief that he would gain Piyali’s confidence again and really understand what was going on with her. So he was bidding his time until they could be back in Kolkata.

Meanwhile he had gleaned whatever information he could from Shanta. She had left Ahwaan’s home three months ago. She had enough money of her own to not bother anyone about it. She had been living in an apartment with Shanta. Shanta had accompanied her from Kolkata after her marriage. So, they were comfortable together. But while talking to her mother, Piyali had kept up the pretense that all was well in her life, while she had stopped talking to Mukundo altogether. Mukundo was exasperated on hearing this. Why had Shanta not informed them about the separation? Piyali had strictly forbidden her from doing so. What was the reason for fights and separation? Shanta couldn’t say, but it did seem like something about money?

Money? It didn’t make sense to Mukundo. Ahwaan was a high-flying investment banker. Piyali’s family wealth was immense. Which of them would need to fight over money? And fight so much that it should to lead to a separation within three months of getting married?

On their flight back, sitting across from Debangi’s and Piyali’ in a separate row, he recalled what she had told him about Ahwaan. She had met him through a friend when he was on an assignment in Kolkata. They had clicked almost instantly. He had accompanied her on her weekend camping, trekking and outings.  Mukundo always kept an eye on her outings to ensure that she was safe. Once, she had wanted to go camping in a forest some two-hundred kilometers from the city. Mukundo knew that the place had weeds that she was allergic to. But she wouldn’t give up. How could he possibly know about the weeds in that faraway place? And she could always avoid it. He had made her promise that the camp organizers would go to the nearest village and call him if she had even tiniest of the troubles. Hardly had they set up their tents, when she had started sneezing. The organizers did go to the village and call him. Without telling her, he had himself been staying in that village that night. He had brought her back immediately and admitted her to the hospital.

Despite this overprotectiveness, he didn’t bother much about people accompanying her. Most of them were her friends for years. There had never been any trouble with them. He hadn’t paid any attention when Ahwaan had slipped in to that group.

Her relationship with Ahwaan had become serious enough in the six months they were together and hence they were married by the time his assignment in Kolkata was over. She had left her job as an artist in a marketing agency and had shifted with him to Mumbai. And in another six months, she had felt depressed enough to slit her wrists. Why?

—

They settled her in the bed on reaching Kolkata.

“Do you want some tea, Mukundo?”

“That would be great, Kaki.”

“I will ask Promila to send a cup.”

“And you should take rest, Kaki. Piyali is alright.”

“I will take a nap.”

“Yes. Please do. And ask Promila to bring some tea for Piyali too. With cardamom,” it was her favorite, although Mukundo didn’t like his tea with cardamom.

“Sure. Aren’t you going to take rest?”

“I am fine for now. I will stay with her.”

He turned to Piyali after Debangi left. She looked ashen-faced.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Don’t be so nice to me, Mukundo Babu. You should hate me.”

“Hate you?” he averted his eyes for a moment; then looked back at her. She felt that his eyes would penetrate her soul. “You are such an idiot, Piyali. You never realized, did you, that I love you in more ways than one, in myriad ways?”

“Mukundo Babu!”

“There is one time when I have hated you in life. When I got that call from Shanta about what you had done. First, you didn’t talk to me for three months. Then… How could you do that? Did I mean nothing to you?”

“You meant more to me than I ever realized, Mukundo Babu. And I was so ashamed. I am so ashamed.”

“What are you ashamed of?”

She did not reply. But silent tears started rolling down her cheeks. Mukundo closed his eyes for a moment to contain his own and then gently wiped hers.

“Stop this,” he said feigning sternness, “You need to get better, not worse.”

The tea came. Mukundo took the tray from Promila. Promila stayed a minute to ask after Piyali; then left them alone again. Piyali sat up and picked up her cup with her right hand. She faltered a bit and instinctively tried to use her left hand to balance the cup. But that hand lied limp beside her. Mukundo noticed her faltering at the same time and held her cup with his hands to steady her. The little tea that spilled did not fall on her hand, but on his. Her eyes grew moist again, but she blinked back the tears and sipped her tea in silence. He did notice her emotional state though. He was used to noticing small things about her. If only she hadn’t been so far away from him, it would never have come to this.

—

To be continued

“Dada!”

“What on earth gave you the idea? Why would you tell her something like that?”

“But was I wrong, Dada?”

“Yes. You were. You were absurd,” he had unknowingly used the same word as Piyali, “Never again should you speak like that to anyone…”

“I wasn’t wrong. Why is no one allowed in your little chamber?”

“Excuse me?”

“I went in there. I saw all the paintings. There is no other reason why all of Piyali’s portraits should be locked up there…”

“Shikha!” he had been furious, “Never ever should you step in that room again. And never ever should you talk like this again. I don’t like shouting at you. Don’t make me do it. Don’t spoil your vacation.”

—

Was she alive? Or was she floating in that place between life and death, where all her deeds were being weighed for their justness.

When Shikha had abruptly excused herself and ran off, Piyali had immediately realized that Mukundo was present there and had overheard them. Her heart had sunk. She didn’t know whether Shikha’s question to her was purely an act of leg-puling, some kind of speculation, or whether she knew something… But a sense of dread had filled her. It was Mukundo’s father that Debangi had turned to after her husband’s death for help in managing her affairs. But for Piyali, Mukundo had been his friend, philosopher and guide since she could remember anything. What she had told Shikha would have made him look inadequate. But what she hadn’t been able to express before she ran off was how inadequate she found herself to be for him. His ideal life-partner would be a philosopher like him – enjoying the higher things in life. Not someone as frivolous as she was; who enjoyed a little flattery, a nice dress, a trek up the hills and camping in jungles.

Despite the incompatibility as life-partners, the relationship that they had was her anchor in life. Anything breaking that relationship would be the death of her. What was she to do after this? There was already the issue of introducing Ahwaan to them. She was afraid that Mukundo would not approve of Ahwaan. Without his support, getting Debangi to agree would be impossible. And now this complication has come up. What was she to do? Oh, Mukundo Babu! You can’t abandon me.

He hadn’t abandoned her. She was the one who had abandoned him instead.

“I am sorry, Mukundo Babu,” she muttered again.

“Piyali!” she could feel his hands on her forehead, as if it was now, and not twelve years ago… She had caught typhoid after coming back from a school trip and was down with high fever. He had sat at her bedside the entire night, even sending Debangi to her room to take rest. She would often be restless at nights, barely conscious and rambling. He would stroke her forehead and soothe her and she would fall back to sleep again. Her mother had come in the morning with her food and medicines.

“Piyali!” how easy it was to float back in time at the door of death. Or after death.  Mukundo Babu’s warm hands, her mother’s kindly eyes…. She opened her eyes. What she felt was not the body-ache of high fever, but an acute pain in her arms. Mukundo Babu did not look like he looked twelve-years ago, when she had fallen sick. Her mother also looked older…

Piyali was not dead. She was on the hospital bed after slitting her wrists. Mukundo Babu was by her bedside, stroking her forehead. It was his smooth voice that she had heard, not an echo of some past memory. Her mother was there too. An acute sense of shame washed over her. Why was she alive to face these people? People who loved her so much, but whom she had let down by making wrong choices and by trying to commit suicide. How would she ever explain herself to them? She shouldn’t have been alive. But just because she was in the hospital and still alive, it didn’t mean she would stay alive. She felt stupid immediately afterwards, but she asked, “Am I dying?”

“No,” replied Mukundo, “Just stay strong, like you are.”

She closed her eyes, feeling ashamed. He credited her with too many qualities that she didn’t have. He said that she was strong; she wasn’t. He thought that she was wise enough to choose her life partner; she wasn’t. He probably thought that she was good enough to be his life partner; she wasn’t.

She opened her eyes and said miserably, “Let me die, Mukundo Babu.”

“Pihu!” her mother spoke now, alarmed, anxious and slightly angry, “Stop talking like that. What were you thinking? Were you thinking of me at all?” It took her some effort to not break into sobs. Mukundo and the doctor had warned he against doing something like that before Piyali

Piyali closed her eyes again, obviously close to tears herself.

“Kaki. I messed up her life. By letting her marry that crook. I know you are anxious right now. But would you let me talk to her alone? Please.”

The request was unusual. But Debangi acceded. “I will inform the doctor that she is awake. And Pihu, Shona, please don’t lose heart. Everything will be all right,” she patted her head and went out with tearful eyes.

“Why did you… Why do you want to die, Piyali?” Mukundo asked. His eyes were soft and comforting, as Piyali looked into them.

“I had hurt you… so much… You didn’t say a word… But all that… for that bastard…”

“You had hurt me? All right. And you think this sight… you in bed like that… your wrist slit… this is pleasant for me? Is that why you did it? To please me?”

His expressions had changed in a split second. His dagger eyes stung right at her heart and she felt almost a physical pain. But she did not try to shirk it off. She deserved it.

And yet she pleaded with him. “Mukundo Babu, please!”

He softened again, “Piyali. I need to know everything about what has happened. But right now, here is the most important thing. You cannot die. You have to live. For Kaki’s sake. For… my sake. Do you understand? You have to live. And you have to exercise all your willpower. Say yes, Piyali. If you ever do such a thing again, you will regret it, I am telling you. Say yes. Now!”

The doctor entered with Debangi just then and their conversation was interrupted. He looked at her miserably and she looked likewise. The doctor examined her and instructed the nurse to get her food and medicine. Mukundo walked out with him to consult him.

“I’m afraid there is damage to tandems, which means her left hand is paralyzed,” the doctor informed him.

“Forever?” Mukundo was composed outwardly, but felt a knot in the pit of his stomach.

“I will recommend physiotherapy. Over time it may help. But…”

“Hmm…” It was obvious from doctor’s tone that the hopes were slim.

“And there is that issue of FIR about suicide…”

“Yeah. I will take care of it.” He had already spoken to some people he knew in Mumbai and no case was going to be filed.

—

To be continued

“I’m sorry, Mukundo Babu,” she mumbled as she ran the blade over her wrist. Then with a determined swing of hands, she slit it.

She cried out feeling the excruciating pain. She hadn’t grown as numb with her disappointments as she had thought. For a moment she regretted her decision of dying. That too in such a grotesque and painful fashion. If Mukundo Babu would see her in this pain… Oh! Mukundo Babu! She deserved all the pain for having hurt him, for having rejected him… And for whose sake?

The effect of blood-loss started taking effect. She couldn’t feel the pain any longer. Just a numbness and dizziness. As if she needed to sleep badly.

“Mukundo Babu!” she had finally located him in the kitchen amidst the hustle and bustle of her wedding. The baraat was at the door. So, everyone had left her alone and went out to see the procession.

She was decked up in her wedding finery. Mukundo, who was taking out a bottle of chilled water from the refrigerator, had frozen at his place on seeing her.  Then his eyes had grown moist at this sight. He had imagined her so often in this attire…

“Piyali!” he had barely managed to speak, “What are you doing here?”

“Are you angry at me?”

His face had flushed. All this while he had been pretending that she didn’t know. And she had cooperated in this pretense. Why now? On this night of all the time? Perhaps she wanted to move on without the guilt of hurting him weighing on her. He would help her with that! He always did what would make her happy. That night was going to be no exception.

He had walked to her and had kissed her on forehead.  “No,” he had said, “How can I ever be angry with you? You are the best, Piyali. Always be happy.”

And he had walked off. Without drinking the water, he had come for. But she had known that he was still not going to join others in welcoming the baraat. He had headed to the backyard, where cooking for the guests was being given final touches. He would supervise the workers.

She had heard the music getting louder. The baraat must be at the gates now. She had rushed to the balcony of her room. There was Ahwaan! His parents had been cool and he had agreed to have a Bengali wedding. How gorgeous he had looked in a typical Bengali groom’s attire. Her heart had leapt with joy.

—

Mukundo Thakur was particularly restless that day. It was Piyali’s six month wedding anniversary. It had been almost three months since he had talked to her. One fine day, she had stopped taking his call.

He visited her mother, Debangi, as usual. Piyali’s father, Debendra Banerjee, had died in an accident when Piyali was only six months old. Since then Mukundo’s father had helped Debangi in managing her home and property.  After he also died, the responsibility fell on Mukundo’s shoulders, which he had taken up devotedly.

Debangi talked about Piyali. But she always assumed that Mukundo would also have spoken to her. So, she didn’t bother getting into specifics. Her chatter usually conveyed a general impression of hers that everything was all right with her and she was happy.

So long as she was happy, he was content. Sad and lonely; but content. Where did this restlessness come from today? The only time he had felt this restless in past was when she had sprung up the news of her lover to them. There was someone she had wanted to marry.

He had been informed by Debangi, who had been out of her depths. “Ahwaan Sharma! Mukundo. She couldn’t find anyone in the community…”

“Kaki,” he had assured her while fighting his own restlessness, “Let me talk to her. You don’t need to worry about his caste and community. These things don’t matter these days. So long as he makes a good husband for Piyali…”

Piyali had looked mortified, when he had suddenly questioned her, “How come you never told me about this, Piyali?”

She had stayed silent.

“Is he really a good boy? Will he keep you happy?”

“Yes Mukundo Babu. We get along very well… We really like each other,” she had somehow found her voice.

“I will take your words for it.”

“Ma is upset.”

“If you have made the right choice, Piyali, getting her to agree is my responsibility. Don’t worry. ”

“And how would you believe that I have made the right choice.”

“I’d believe you.”

His phone ringing brought him out of his reverie. Piyali? How come? After all these months? It was Shanta using Piyali’s mobile phone.

—

“Didi! Didi! Oh my God! What have you done?” Shanta, her live-in maid, was bendin over her. Why was she here? Hadn’t Piyali sent her out with at least four hours worth of work? “What do I do? I must… You’re… Your wrists… Ambulance…  I will call Ahwaan Dada…”

“Mukundo Babu…” she mumbled, while Shanta got busy with the mission of saving her. She didn’t want to be saved. She didn’t deserve to live. And she definitely didn’t want Ahwaan to come to her rescue.

She would later learn that Ahwaan was not in town. Or so he claimed. Shanta ended up calling Mukundo in Kolkata. She didn’t think calling Debangi and worrying her would help. He looked up the number for the ambulance service online and gave it to Shanta. He had also booked the next available flight for himself and Debangi.

—

“Seatbelt is fastened like this…” In the best of the days, it was impossible for people to focus on the safety demonstrations on the flights. Today was the worst day of his life. Debangi, sitting beside him, was worried. But he had only told her that Piyali was ill. She wasn’t aware of the real thing… Slitting her wrist? What could have driven Piyali to do that?

“I am a princess, Mukundo Babu. I will live life on my own terms,” he remembered what she used to say so often. He had wondered at times if Piyali had been hasty in marrying Ahwaan because of what Shikha had done. Expose his feelings to her.

He had stopped in his tracks on hearing Shikha and Piyali talk. Shikha was his cousin, who often came to spend summer holidays with him at Kolkata. She and Piyali had become good friends over the years and they looked forward to spending time together in summers.

“What if Dada were in love with you?” she had asked Piyali, in the course of their girly gossips, Mukundo assumed. But what on earth could have given her the idea? Surely, he had mastered the art of concealing such feelings of his, expressed only in that small, locked chamber, where even Piyali was not allowed to go!

“Don’t be absurd, Shikha.”

“No. No. No,” she had been giggling, “You have scooped out all my secrets; you can’t just get away with this. Tell me, what will you do if Dada wanted to marry you?”

“That isn’t possible, Shikha,” Piyali had been somber, “Tell me you are joking.”

“Why not? Isn’t he the one you are closest to? Why not?”

“But… No. That’s not how it works. I respect him like I do not respect any other person in the world, not even my mother. And I love him too,” he had forgotten to breathe for a moment on hearing that. Could it mean that she had the same feelings and same hesitation as he had? That their age-gap would make it inappropriate? But she had continued, “I love him, but not like that. He is someone I will always go to for advice. But my life partner needs to be passionate, wild… Like me… We are not like each other at all. We’d be miserable together.” She wasn’t even bothered about what, to him, was the only issue standing between them. She had considered the possibility and rejected him as a suitor. He had never imagined having this conversation with her, had never imagined proposing to her. So, he had no definite expectations about her feelings. But he had known at that moment that her rejection had hurt him immensely. He couldn’t have gone before her just then and still act normally. He had turned on his heels. She, probably, hadn’t seen him, but Shikha had. She had excused herself from Piyali and had run after him to his house.

—

To be continued

“Mukundo Babu!” she had wanted to scream, but barely managed a whisper.

“Hmm…” he was so overcome with arousal that he didn’t notice the panic in her voice. He proceeded to kiss her neck.

“Please don’t hurt me…”

The expression on his face changed instantly. Damn it! He had scared her. He immediately took off her blindfold and freed her wrists too. They weren’t tied too tight in the first place. If she had tried, she could have freed herself.

“Pihu!” He gathered her in his arms as she started crying. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Calm down, Piyali. I’m not going to hurt you. How can I?”

She, of course, knew that. She wasn’t running away from him, rather clinging to him as if for her life.

“Let’s get out of the room for a while,” he said and led her away. She had calmed down by now.

“I’m sorry,” she felt terribly embarrassed after the tension melted away. What had come upon her? How could she grow scared of Mukundo Babu, of all people? “I don’t know why I panicked…”

“I startled you. But I was just pulling a prank on you, Pihu Rani.”

“I know… I am… I am really sorry.”

“No. Don’t feel guilty about it. I should have been more careful and not hurried you like that…”

“No. I should have been more sporting.”

Mukundo laughed.  “All right. Let’s not fight over this. Are you feeling better now?”

She nodded. “We can go back.”

“Or we can just have a romantic night-out under the moon,” he grinned at her.

“And fall ill by the morning?”

He chuckled, “Let’s go.”

—

They looked uncomfortably at the two pieces of dupatta lying on the bed that he had discarded hurriedly. Then Piyali smiled and picked up one of them. “You can tie me up,” she said offering it to him.

He also smiled and shook his head. “No. It was a prank, Pihu Rani. I don’t need to tie you up. I know you aren’t going away. ”

Piyali felt a tinge of disappointment. She could enjoy getting tied up by him, although she didn’t fancy the other weird stuff from the book. Probably she would be able to persuade him sometime in future. Right now, if he would just take her in his arms and…

He did take her in his arms, but with no intention to celebrate their wedding night any longer.  “We are both tired. Let’s sleep well tonight, Pihu Rani.”

“But…”

“Time isn’t running out. We have our entire life before us. I don’t want to overwhelm you any further.”

As she snuggled up to him. She could feel a sharp intake of his breath as he tried to contain his arousal. How the hell could she ever get scared of him, she cursed herself. But she wasn’t complaining about sleeping beside him. Her thoughts went back to her ragging days. “I went to bed… with Mukundo Babu.” She had wondered how it would feel. Today, she had the answer. She felt warm, comfortable, safe and loved.

—

Piyali woke up before him. She clambered out of the bed carefully so as not to disturb him. Throughout the wedding preparation, he had taken extra care to not excessively tire her. That meant he himself had worked too hard. He needed the rest. She came to sit near him on bed after taking a shower. His eyes opened just then. He smiled at her as he stretched.

“Tea?” she asked.

“Hmm… Ask Sonelal to make some,” he replied and went to the bathroom to freshen up.

She was waiting with tea and some biscuits when he came. He sat down on the chair across the table and picked up his cup.

“Mukundo Babu,” she broke the silence after a while.

“Hmm?”

“I wanted to say something…”

“Then say it.”

“Don’t laugh at me, okay?”

“Piyali,” he reached out over the table and pressed her hand, “I’m not going to laugh at you. I might have given a different impression until now, but I do take you seriously. Always.”

“I… I know,” she stammered, “And you always give into my whims. I just… want to make sure, Mukundo Babu, that this marriage doesn’t turn out of one of those episodes. You giving into my wishes and whims. I want to… I want to be a good wife to you. And to make you happy.”

He gazed at her face for a long minute. How lovely she looked, even though the healthy pink color had not returned to her cheeks fully yet. There were things to be managed in near future. She didn’t yet know about her father’s illness, even though she had expressed concerns over his failing health several times. They were to move to Bangalore and start a new life. After having been in Kolkata all their lives, it was going to be stressful. She still had to recover from the health issues two years of neglect had created for her.  He was scarred from past betrayals. And between all this, they had to navigate through this new relationship. When he thought about all of this together it sounded formidable. But she was sitting before him. The anchor of his life through all its ups and downs. And they were together despite the impossibilities he had imagined. They would sail through it. Together.

“Piyali. It has probably been more obvious to you that I give into your whims. But here is something you didn’t realize. That you care for me like no one else does; like no one else can. You have done it even when you were younger and much more naïve. Do you remember when I had a minor accident with my bike? You were probably ten years old. It was just a bit of scratch on my hands and you had cried like it was the end of the world.”

“And instead of attending to your injury, everyone had to attend to me,” she said, her cheeks coloring.

“Yes,” he chuckled, “But you were older when Aporna had left. I was broken, then. I hated myself, and the world. And you had spent hours with me, distracting me from those thoughts. You, singlehandedly, brought me out of that depression, Piyali. Did you ever realize that?”

She shook her head, looking amazed and overwhelmed.

“For a very long time, my life has been anchored around you. And what I have today… this… our relationship… our future together, it wouldn’t have been possible if you hadn’t been insistent and stubborn about it. I had given up even before trying. You have been very good to me, Piyali. I don’t think you need to try hard to make me happy even in future.”

She smiled shyly, “But… I still want you to help me. I may not always know what you need, or what I should be doing. Didn’t have a mother to teach me. You should, you must, demand it from me. Will you?”

“Yes. I will,” he promised. And then he asked inexplicably and suddenly, “Are you hungry?”

“Not particularly,” she replied, puzzled.

“Can the breakfast wait?”

“Yes. I think so…”

He got up from the chair and held out his hand for her. She took it and followed the suit, still looking confused. He wasn’t inviting her for a dance all of a sudden, was he?

He held her close and whispered in her ears, “Be a good wife and come with me to bed.” She blushed so hard that Mukundo felt like he would be able to scoop some red color off her cheeks. She hid her face in his chest. He put his arms around her and led her to the bed. They sat on the edge and he kissed her hard and deep. She ran out of breath rather quickly and was panting by the time he withdrew. The kiss itself had her head spinning. With his strong hands guiding her it was a far cry for the sloppy ones she had with Ahwaan. She chided herself for doing that comparison at such a time, but couldn’t help feeling the elation. However, she forgot all about comparisons, even about herself, when he laid her down and started kissing her all over. She melted under the weight on his strong body. She opened her eyes when he pulled back once, to undress himself. She gasped when he took off his kurta. His arms were just muscular enough to look strong and dependable, but not intimidating. No wonder she felts so safe and secure, when enveloped in them.  He had started slowly, but lost his control soon. She wasn’t complaining. She had fantasized about him for so long now that even a touch from him was enough to get her ready. In fact, she was hardly in a position to sort anything in her mind as the sensations running through her body overwhelmed her. The ecstasy she felt, by the time he collapsed on top of her was nothing like what she had ever felt possible. When he rolled on her side, she kept her arms around him and rolled along with him. Then she snuggled up even closer, as he cuddled her.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Hmm…” she groaned while continuing to keep her face buried in his chest. He stroked and played with her hair. He would have to get her an after-morning pill and remember to use protection from next time. But life would be good for him from then on. With her by his side. He kissed her hair and mumbled, “I love you.” She just pressed herself even harder against his body in response.

– The End –

“It really isn’t fair, Piyali, that Aporna should get to you, sadden you and snatch away my happiness once again,” Mukundo told her when she still seemed upset by the incident in the shop.

Piyali tried to smile. He was right. It was Aporna who had cheated on him. And it wasn’t a one-time slip of judgment. It was somebody whom she had known since college. She had wanted to marry him, but her parents hadn’t agreed. He wasn’t of their community. She had married Mukundo under pressure from her family, but had continued her clandestine affair with him. When it was exposed and Mukundo had asked for a divorce, she had been more than happy to agree to it. She was looking forward to her life with her lover. But that hadn’t turned out the way she had wanted. He was not interested in marrying her. His parents had already arranged for his marriage, and he wasn’t going to break it for the sake of a divorcee from another community. She had been devastated. Piyali sympathized with her sometimes, but there was nobody to be blamed other than herself. To have not valued a husband like Mukundo Babu! It wasn’t surprising that she craved to return to him. But Mukundo had been too hurt to ever consider the possibility.

“It isn’t her, Mukundo Babu. But the things she said…”

“She was just trying to hurt us…”

“May be. But… all those years ago… even Ahwaan had said something like that…”

“You never told me. What had he said?”

“That I have an unhealthy relationship with you and that I wasn’t really invested in him…”

“Even if that was true, how does it matter now?”

“If two people can say it, more of them will…”

“It doesn’t matter what people say, Piyali…”

“But it does, right? Why else had to kept silent for so long? It does matter to you.”

He sighed. “What mattered to me, Piyali, was what you would say and what Kaku would say if I gave even a hint of how I felt. I wasn’t thinking about the rest of the world for myself, but only for yours and Kaku’s sake. The worst thing that can happen to me now, if the world turned your head around. Don’t do that to me, Piyali. I can’t go back to the despair after having been given so much hope. Please!”

Tears filled her eyes as she hugged him tight. He comforted her and then gently pulled away from her. “Don’t do that,” he reminded her. She averted her eyes shyly.

—

The wedding was a simple affair as they had decided. Only close friends and relatives attended. Some of them accompanied them back to his house, where the gruhapravesh ceremony was conducted by them and the house-staff.  Despite the simple ceremony, Mukundo could see that Piyali was getting tired. The saree she had worn to please him and the jewelry were also heavy for her. So, he sent her to their room to take rest, while he and Mr. Banerjee attended to the guests and saw them off one by one.

After the guests departed, Mr. Banerjee came to see her. It wasn’t really a big deal, because they were all going to Bangalore in couple of weeks and they would be staying together. But she still felt emotional and started crying on his shoulders. Probably it was all the pain and stress that the father-daughter duo had borne over two years.

“What happened, Pihu? You are happy, right?” he asked with concern.

She nodded.

“Stop crying, then, child. Is something the matter?”

She shook her head. “Just that… Baba. Sorry for everything. I have troubled you so much.”

He laughed softly.  “That’s what kids are for, Pihu. Don’t even think about it. And now, everyone is happy. I am very happy. Mukundo is happy. So are you. Why bother about past mistakes on anybody’s part, my child?”

She smiled finally. “Be happy, Pihu. And…” he hesitated before proceeding, “Keep him happy. You couldn’t be in more caring hands. Never let him down.”

—

Piyali had changed out of her heavy wedding saree. But she was still wearing a saree, a lighter one, when Mukundo came in. She was sitting on the bed resting against the bedpost. Mukundo beamed on seeing her, while she nervously shuffled out of the bed, fiddling with her saree.

“Tired?” he came close to her and asked. If her eyes weren’t downcast, she would have seen how his eyes were shining. He was doubtlessly the happiest man on earth at that moment.

She shook her head.

“Good,” he held her, “Because tonight you need to answer for a few things.”

She looked up startled. But by now his eyes were looking dark and he had a strange, crooked smile on his lips.

“Answer for a few things?” she mumbled questioningly.

He nodded and shifted one of the pillows to reveal a book lying under it. Piyali’s eyes widened in shock. She had been wondering for a while where her copy of Fifty Shades Freed had disappeared – the third book of the fifty shades trilogy! Her throat went dry and she didn’t meet his eyes at all. What was he thinking?

“I… I’m sorry… Mukundo Babu…. I wasn’t…” she stopped. How could she say she wasn’t reading it? She was reading it. It was boring as a story, but had made a titillating read.

Mukundo climbed on the bed and pulled her after him. “Just saying sorry won’t do, would it? You will need to be punished for it.”

She nodded mindlessly, but quickly registered his words. She looked at him dazed. Damn! He was playing the game with her. Her mind clouded with confusion, even as her breath quickened. It was made worse when pulled a piece of cloth from under the mattress.

“That’s… my dupatta.”

“True,” he replied mischievously as he tied her wrists with it. She realized that it was only a piece of it. He picked up another one and blind-folded her with it.

“You tore it? I had been looking for it…”

“Buy another one,” he whispered in her ears, “And now shut up. Because I have a third piece from it too, which I can use to silence you.”

He made her lie down on bed and bent down to kiss her. On her cheeks at first.  Meanwhile, her confusion grew into panic. What was that book about? Gosh! Spanking, and paddles and crops… She didn’t even know what most of those things looked like. What had he planned?

—

To be continued

“Mukundo Babu!”

Mukundo beamed on hearing her voice. She had obviously recuperated well. She was sitting in the hall and having a cup of tea.

“Someone looks well. Where is Kaku?”

“Not at home. Has gone out for some work. Can you take me to my room?” She still needed some support while moving around.

“Sure. Come.” He held her hand and put his other arm around her protectively. They slowly walked to her room. As soon as they were inside, she surprised him by suddenly hugging him tight.

He restrained himself from responding as passionately. He patted her head and then held her until she pulled away a bit. Her face had gone crimson.

“Are you fine?” he asked softly.

She spoke despite feeling shy, “I was so weak, I hadn’t even held you properly once. Sometimes I felt like it was all a dream, an illusion. And you weren’t really here.”

“I am here, Pihu Rani. And nothing is going to make me go away now. But you don’t do such things. Not until you have recovered fully.”

She looked up at him curiously, not understanding what he meant. He smiled at her. “I don’t have a mask now, Piyali, which I can hide behind. And you seem to have no idea what your proximity does to me.  I can’t act on my urges until you are fully recovered. So, don’t tempt me, please.”

She averted her eyes and moved back. Her heart pounded so hard on understanding his implication that it threatened to jump out of her body. Mukundo chuckled on seeing her condition. How naïve and innocent she looked. Was she really capable of feeling that passion for him which had reflected in that hug over two and a half years ago?

“Let me help you to bed,” he said and led her there. “Oh. And I forgot,” he took out an envelope from his rear pocket, “This had come for you. I received it while coming.”

“What is it?”

“Don’t know. Seems like something important.”

“Important?”

“Yeah. He was insisting that he would give it only to you.”

“Then how did you receive it?”

A teasing smile formed on his lips. “I told them that I am your husband.”

She gulped hard and colored. “Hadn’t you just stopped me from doing such things?” she said in a low voice.

“I had stopped you because I have a problem. You don’t seem to have the same problem.”

“How would you know?” she fixed her eyes on the envelope and spoke in a low quivering voice.

She frowned on seeing the contents of the envelope.

“What is it?”

She put it aside. “Acceptance for Ph. D.”

“Congratulations, Pihu Rani,” his eyes shone. “From Stanford itself, right?”

She nodded, but looked at him with expressionless eyes.

“What happened?” he asked, “Not happy?”

“I’m not going back, Mukundo Babu?”

“Because of me?”

“I don’t want to do a Ph. D. I already feel exhausted after MS.”

“Really?”

“It is true that I don’t want to leave you again. But it is also true that I don’t want to do a Ph. D. I had applied because… well what would I have done if you hadn’t come? So…”

“Pihu Rani. Here is something you should know. I am not going to leave you again, either. But we don’t have to be in Kolkata for that. I can take a sabbatical; even try to find a job wherever you have to go. You don’t need to sacrifice anything for being together. Now tell me honestly. What do you want to do?”

“I have a job offer. I can join their India office. But…”

“But?”

“It is in Bangalore.”

“Is that what you really want?”

She nodded.

“Then that’s what we’d do. But I hope they will give you a couple of months to join. Because you will need at least that much time to recover fully.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem.”

“I will send my job application to ISI Bangalore.”

“How can you decide so quickly?”

“I have suffered from my indecision and silence, Pihu Rani. Not any longer.” He had something else in mind too, which he didn’t yet tell her. Her father would also get a better treatment in Bangalore. There was a super-specialty hospital there.

—

Piyali had recovered a lot, though not completely. Mr. Banerjee asked them to get married before shifting to Bangalore. It would make things easier. They could stay together. Neither of them had any objections. What were they to wait for? It had already been a lifetime of waiting.

Mukundo asked Piyali what kind of a wedding she wanted. “Simplest possible,” was her answer.

“Why?”

“Because it doesn’t matter.”

“Don’t you want…”

“No. I want nothing other than just… ending this wait.”

He smiled and kissed her on forehead.

Her first choice was a simple court marriage. But that would need a month’s notice. So, they decided to arrange a wedding in a temple instead. He asked her to come to shopping with him.

“I want to see my wife in a saree,” he told her teasingly.

She frowned and asked looking worried, “You mean… can’t I wear my usual dresses after the wedding?”

He laughed out loud. “Silly girl. Of course, you can. I don’t think you can as much move around wearing sarees all day long. And I don’t intend to carry you around all the time. I was talking about the wedding.”

She smiled and blushed furiously. She was going crazy. She always did around him, didn’t she?

She was taking too long to get ready. He came back to her room and found the door ajar. She was probably in the bathroom. He sat on her bed and noticed a book peeping out from under the pillow. Curious, he took it out. He was taken aback at first and then a mischievous smile formed on his lips. He got up to leave the room with the book before she came back. His eyes fell on the clothes she had discarded while changing. There was a bright red dupatta lying on the back of a chair. He picked that up too, walked out briskly and hid his stolen possessions in the car. When he came back she was ready to leave. She didn’t seem to have noticed the theft.

He bought her much more than one wedding saree. When she objected, he whispered in her ear, “Once in a while even after wedding won’t hurt, would it?” She smiled nervously and weakly. It would take her time to get used to his romance. She was used to his camaraderie and protective instincts. This change was sometimes unnerving, even if sweetly so.

“The billing queue is long. You sit here, while I pay the bill. I don’t want you to get tired.” She nodded, although she would very much have liked him to be by her side every single moment. She still tended to tire quickly and his advice was reasonable.

“Isn’t that Pihu?” she looked up startled on hearing the voice.

“Aporna Di?” her throat went dry.

“It’s so good to see you, Pihu. How are you doing? Are you here alone?”

Piyali paled. What was she to tell her cousin? Who was she here with? And why?

“No. Not alone,” she managed to reply, “How are you, Di?”

“As well as I can be. I had come with a friend. Her sister is getting married. She wanted to buy something for her. Who are you with?”

Piyali gulped hard. There was no point hiding. Mukundo Babu would be there any minute. And especially if he noticed who she was with, he would practically come running… “Mukundo Babu. He is getting the billing done.”

Aporna smiled weakly and changed the topic, “You look so weak. Have you been ill… Oh – what is this?” She noticed the packet of bangles Piyali was carrying. Shaakha-pola, a pair of white and red bangles that married woman wore, was visible through the translucent polythene bag. “Are you getting married, Pihu?”

Piyali smiled weakly. Despite herself a blush crept up on her face. “Wow! You didn’t inform us. Who is the lucky guy? You are running away from home or what…. How come nobody knows…”

“She isn’t the kind to run away from home…” Mukundo’s voice startled them.

“Mukundo!” Aporna paled on seeing his stern countenance.

“Let’s go, Piyali,” the way Mukundo helped her up and protectively put his arms around her left nothing to guess.

“Wait!” It would have been more dignified for her to let them go, but she could not check herself in time. “Are you two…”

“Yes,” Mukundo replied while Piyali stayed tongue-tied, “We are getting married.”

“How could you… She is a baby! Mukundo…”

Mukundo replied with a crooked smile, “Much more mature and loyal than you, Aporna. Don’t try to talk to her or to me in future. You have destroyed my life and happiness once. I am not about to let it happen again.”

Aporna felt a surge of anger. “You are disgusting. This is… She has a hopeless, unhealthy dependence on you. It isn’t a match. This will be a disaster.” She had still harbored a faint hope of her reunion with Mukundo, especially given that he hadn’t married anyone else yet. But this…  And her own cousin?

—

To be continued

Piyali drew a sharp breath on seeing him enter her room and shutting the door behind him. He sat beside her, closer than he had ever been during her hospital stay. Even on the flight back, in their business class seats, she had sat with her father, while he had taken a seat in the row across them. He hadn’t been this close to her since the day of that fateful hug…

“Can you sit up?” he asked.

“I will need help,” she replied.

He went forward and helped her sit up, feeling her body tremble at his touch. Then he drew her into a gentle hug. She broke into sobs. He pulled back. “Why are you crying now, Pihu Rani?” A name that he used only in private!

“Probably because you can see it now. Probably because I have desperately wanted to cry before you. You used to come to Mumbai every month, Mukundo Babu. Without informing even Baba about it. And you didn’t ask after me even once in these two years? You weren’t bothered. You didn’t miss me at all, did you?”

“Piyali,” he choked on his words, “I obsessively followed you. But I had to do it non-intrusively. I checked your research group’s website every day. Read every paper you ever published, every conference presentation of yours… There was nothing else you ever updated anywhere. Not even a photograph… How I craved to get just one glimpse of you… But you were doing well. I thought you had moved on. I didn’t want to derail you.”

She pursed her lips.

“So, you will not forgive me?”

She shook her head.

“Not even if I told you how I have suffered every moment in these two years because I missed you? And even more because I felt guilty? And even more because I thought you had moved on?”

She shook her head even as her eyes grew moist.

“Not even if I told you that there are no obstacles for us now; Kaku has agreed?”

“Agree to what?” she didn’t seem to get his import.

“Agree to what?” he chuckled, “What do you think?”

“Don’t get my hopes high, Mukundo Babu. Speak it out clearly.”

He cupped her face and planted a kiss on her forehead. Their eyes were locked in each other’s for a while. Then he bent again and gave a quick peck to her on her lips. Her tears started flowing, fruitlessly trying to cool down her cheeks, which had grown hot and red with his proximity.

“That’s enough,” he wiped her tears with his thumb while he continued to hold her face in his hands, “You know how weak you are, don’t you? Crying won’t do.”

“I hate you, Mukundo Babu.”

“You can punish me whichever way you want. But stop crying.”

She wiped her own tears and he let go of her face.

“How did Baba agree?” she asked.

Mukundo suspected that Mr. Banerjee’s own terminal illness had a bigger role to play in his acceptance than anything else. But he wouldn’t tell her that. No daughter would be able to come to terms with her father’s approaching death being the reason she was granted her love. Not Piyali of all people, over-sensitive as she was. Besides, this wasn’t the time to reveal his illness to her.

“He is your father, Piyali. How long could he have seen you suffer like this?” he wasn’t being untruthful. This was part of the reason for sure. There was one more! “Besides, he hadn’t realized earlier that I reciprocated your emotions.”

“I had started doubting so too,” she said.

“Yes. I am a bigger culprit for staying silent than I thought. I still hope that you will forgive me some day.”

“I still hate you.”

“I accept the punishment. Just get well quickly, Pihu Rani. Seeing you like this is too cruel a punishment even for a crime like mine.”

She initiated the hug this time. But she mumbled, “I still hate you.”

—

Mr. Banerjee retreated from Piyali’s door, when he realized that Mukundo was there with her. He asked Promila, the housekeeper, to take the juice and medicine for Piyali.

They broke the hug when Promila knocked on the door. Mukundo took the tray from her and made Piyali drink some juice with his own hands. After a few sips, she stopped him because tears flooded her eyes again. Mukundo looked at her helplessly.

“What had gone so wrong, Mukudno Babu? Had I presumed something that was not on your mind? Had you not understood me?”

“I had understood you, Piyali. How could I not? You had just discovered your feelings, but mine had been the same since before you went to Mumbai. I just wished I had stopped you in time from voicing them.”

“I hadn’t meant to say anything to Baba without talking to you first. But for some reason he was after my life to meet some boy or the other. I just blurted out… I didn’t realize it would make you so angry,” she spoke through her tears.

“Angry?” Mukundo was confounded.

“There hasn’t been a single moment since then that I have not regretted doing that…”

“And drove yourself to the brink of death and madness?”

“Do you know what was the longest before this that I hadn’t talked to you?”

“What?”

“Four days. When you had disappeared after a Nihu Di’s wedding. I was already on the brink of madness then. And this time, I had to survive for two years on just two words from you. Take care! That was the end!”

“You didn’t take care, did you?”

“I am alive, despite knowing that you were angry with me; and probably ashamed… You can’t ask for more, Mukundo Babu.”

“Oh Piyali! I wasn’t angry at you. I was just sad, incredibly sad. I hadn’t wanted to reach for more and lose even what we had. Which was what happened. I had anticipated Kaku’s reaction. And after seeing him react that way, I just couldn’t bring myself to come near you, to even talk to you. It felt like a betrayal towards him… Still, I hadn’t been able to resist meeting you once. So, I had told Kaku that I would drop you to airport. He had accepted that and I… I couldn’t ask for more. I couldn’t ask for you! ”

His own tears betrayed him. He lifted her hand and rested his forehead against it. She brought her other hand to him and dug into his hair with her trembling fingers. It sent an electric jolt through his body and he took a sharp breath. Then he lifted his face up and held both her hands to stop her from touching him. She might, quite innocuously, make him lose control.

“Do you know why I had disappeared after Nihu’s wedding?” He might have held up better physically, but emotionally he had suffered every bit like her. He also needed to talk.

“Why?”

“Because that’s when I had realized that you had grown into this beautiful woman. And that my love for you was no longer just platonic. I had grown so restless and was so scared of facing the consequences… I just wanted to disappear.”

She stared at him wide-eyed.

“And then you came to me. You started crying. I couldn’t bear to see you crying, Piyali.”

“So, you came back? You came to see me every month? You saw me going around with someone else, and never said a word?”

“Because I couldn’t see as much as a frown on your face. And even a hint of my feelings would have destroyed things, destroyed your life and peace. As they did eventually. I could never forgive myself for letting it on in that one moment of weakness. What do you think I am going through now? Seeing you like this?”

“My safety net had been taken away, Mukundo Babu. I couldn’t soar high. I just sunk down. Deep down. I’m sorry. I just couldn’t hold it on my own.”

“Somebody should have told me, Piyali. You, or Kaku. Somebody! I know my silence is unforgivable, but this wasn’t fair to me. I had thought you didn’t need it any longer. But if you needed it and couldn’t depend on my safety net, my life was meaningless. I am feeling extremely frustrated and angry right now.”

“No. Mukundo Babu. Please. Don’t talk about being angry. It shatters me,” Piyali said miserably.

“I am sorry,” he gave her another gentle and affectionate hug, “Don’t worry now. We will figure out everything. You only have to focus on getting well. Nothing else. Here – your juice and medicine.”

—

To be continued

Two years later…

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

“Mukundo!”

“It’s my fault, Kaku.”

“What are you talking about?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

“No Kaku. I am fine.”

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

“Kaku!” he looked up surprised.

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

Mukundo was tongue-tied. Where was this going?

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kaku? What are you talking about?”

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

“Kaku?”

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

“Kaku. That’s…”

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

“Does she know?”

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

—

To be continued

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

“Mukundo Babu!” she replied insolently.

“What? What did you say?”

“Mukundo Babu. I want to marry him.”

“Is this some kind of a joke?”

“No Baba.”

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

“But Baba…”

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

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

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

“Mukundo!”

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

—

To be continued