Mish' Fiction

“Life happens to us in unusual places, Karishma. I failed twice in marriages. I had to call up an escort service to find a woman who helped me understand that I was looking at women the wrong way.” She still didn’t look up. He continued, “And I am not the only one. You have also found your love in the most unusual place. In a middle-aged man, who has failed at least twice.”

When she still didn’t look up, he got worried. He gently lifted her chin up. “What is bothering your so much? There is absolutely no pressure on you; you know that, don’t you?”

“I feel like such a… gold-digger.”

“What?” he was surprised and then laughed softly, “Some people have a huge ego. You, dear girl, have a huge conscience. And troublesome one too, at that. But I think it is unfair if your conscience troubles come in way of my happiness, Karishma. Don’t you think so?”

“Mr. Sen…”

“Siddhartha…”

“Please listen to me,” she sounded miserable.

“Go ahead.”

“You have done a lot for me. A lot. I don’t want any more favours from you.”

“Unusual conditions too,” he sounded amused, “But what option do I have? I accept.”

“I don’t know what I am doing.”

“Me neither. But we will figure out.”

She smiled for the first time during the exchange, albeit weakly, “You have solved all my problems till now. I guess you will continue to have to do that.”

“Trust me that’s a man’s dream,” he chuckled.

“Mr. Sen…”

“Siddhartha.”

“Siddhartha…” she repeated self-consciously.

“Yeah?”

“Do you have some time now?”

“I have all the time today. What do you want?”

“Take me someplace. Someplace away from all the humbug. I am tired of fighting with myself.”

“You don’t have to go back to work?”

“Not today.”

He smiled, “Will you come home?”

“Home?” she looked uncertain.

“Nobody’s there. Don’t worry. No family, I mean.”

She nodded.

“Let’s go.”

—

Siddhartha led her to his bedroom and excused himself to go to the bathroom. Karishma ambled around the room and found a neatly arranged stack of printed sheets. “At the Fringes by Manthan” the first page read. She turned over. “To K. For bringing back perspective and inspiration in my life” went the second one. She smiled and put the pages back.

When Siddhartha came out, he found her standing at the window, looking out. She had taken off her cotton jacket and was wearing a sleeveless top. He realized that it was the first time he had seen her bare arms. He went up to her and held her from behind. He caressed her shoulders and planted a kiss on one. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“Karishma. It doesn’t have to be sexual, our relationship,” he said.

“Why not?” she replied.

“Why not, indeed!” he mumbled. He was no longer a client. She was no longer “working”. He bent down and kissed her shoulder again.

She turned around to face him. “But not today.”

“And why not?”

“I am wearing very plain lingerie.”

He was taken aback and then laughed softly on seeing the mischievous glint in her eyes. “So, you will do the lingerie talk and expect me to step back, eh?” He reached over her shoulders and pressed a switch. It drew the blinds on the window and the room grew dark. “The problem is solved now. I can’t see anything.” He slipped his hands inside her top at the back. “But I can feel every bit.”

—

“Why had you stopped writing?” she looked up from the book she was reading and asked suddenly. They were in a bookshop on a book-buying spree.

“My father decided to step away from business. He emotionally and financially blackmailed me into taking up his responsibilities. My first marriage, which was already in shambles, broke down soon afterwards. The peace of mind that it takes to create a fictional world and weave a story in it was lost. And so was the inspiration. I was annoyed with myself, with life.”

“Angst is often a good motivation to write.”

“Didn’t work out for me, I think.”

“Why the pseudonym?”

“When I published the first book, I didn’t want my parents to know. They didn’t approve of such wasteful exercises.”

“Interesting. These days it would almost be impossible to make a name for yourself, if you didn’t always show your face and stay in limelight. Only writing, howsoever well, doesn’t work. Anonymous and pseudonymous writing would be lost, unless you are writing something really scandalous. Like that fake IPL player.”

“Yeah. Our publisher is apprehensive about publishing my new book.”

“Really? They are crazy.”

“They aren’t. Things have changed.”

“It’s getting published, right?” she asked apprehensively.

“They will publish it, yes. They won’t say ‘no’ to me.”

“Thank God!”

“You don’t need it to be published to read it, Karishma,” he smiled at her.

“But I would like to hold a real book in my hands.”

“All right. You shall have it, whether or not they publish it.”

“How?”

“I will have one printed for you.”

She laughed.

“You know it is so good to see you laugh like this. Unburdened.”

“Thank you and thanks to you. I have been meaning to ask you something.”

“Shoot.”

“Had you suspected who I was before I had told you?”

“Karishma and Krystal, you mean? Sometimes I did. When I tried to put a face on Karishma who wrote me those letters, I often ended up thinking about you. The first letter had come soon after our first meeting. So, there were reasons to suspect. But somehow I didn’t take the idea seriously.”

“Hmm…”

“You had mentioned that you liked reading, but had never said anything about writing. What about you? Did you suspect?”

“Not even in my wildest dreams. The ruthless industrialist and the sensitive writer. Never!”

“Ruthless, eh?”

“That’s what I had initially thought of you. Did you fire your assistant?”

He laughed, “No. I have often wanted to. But I didn’t.”

“Thank God. Although now that I think of the envelope with address, it feels stupid that I didn’t suspect.”

“Envelope with address?”

“The first time I had met you, there was an envelope address to Manthan with a postbox address in your room. You had said that it must be that of an earlier guest and they didn’t clean the room well.”

“Ah! I had forgotten about it. So, that’s where you got my address from?”

“Yeah. Postbox address was easy to memorize, thankfully. Otherwise I would have cried out when you asked me to throw it in dustbin,” she grinned.

He smiled.

“You had been really wicked in Dalhousie,” she continued.

“Wicked?”

“Even after I told you who I was and you found me with your book, you didn’t tell me about your real identity. Or rather your pseudo identity of a writer. You had, obviously, made the connection, hadn’t you?”

“I had made the connection. But… I wasn’t sure how you would react. I was afraid of embarrassing you. In your world, your favourite author didn’t know anything about the part of your life you were uncomfortable with. I thought I would let it be that way. That’s why I didn’t even try to meet you later and focused on getting your book published. But I couldn’t stop myself from attending the launch function and got caught.”

“Thank God for that.”

“Yeah. Thank God for that.”

“There was something else about Dalhousie…”

“Yes?”

“I wanted to apologize. I had said something about your writing that was… It was audacious of me…”

“About the female characters?”

She nodded, “I shouldn’t have…”

“But you were right. I have been terrible in understanding or choosing women, Karishma. It reflects not only in my writing, but also on my life. My failed relationships…”

“No. You can’t take something I said about your characters to your heart like this. I am not an expert. Neither in writing, nor in relationships.”

“But I am,” he chuckled, “And trust me that you were more correct in your observation than you would ever realize. Anyway. I don’t think we are talking books any longer. If you are done, let’s pay and go to the café.”

She agreed and followed him to the counter and then to the café.

“Why me, Mr. Sen?” she asked after they had ordered coffee and food.

“Siddhartha.”

“Siddhartha,” she smiled sheepishly. She was still not used to calling him by name.

“I could ask the same thing.”

“No. You couldn’t. It’s a no-brainer. You gave me everything I needed. Money, of course. But even more importantly a dignified treatment.”

“I have told you how I felt when I first met you.”

“And why did you meet me again?”

“I think… I got curious. The curiosity of a writer, in a potential character.”

“Hmm…”

“Yeah. It was rather selfish.”

“Come on…”

“And then, slowly, I discovered something more alluring than just a character whose miseries I could portray in a story. I discovered a woman of substance.”

“Woman of substance?” she looked embarrassed, “You are joking.”

“I am not.” He paused and looked at her. When she continued to look unconvinced, he explained, “When you look at yourself, you probably think of a woman who tried to sell her body for money. But what I find there is a woman who accepted her responsibilities, and did whatever it took to fulfill them. She didn’t just whine and crib about her fate, while doing nothing about it. Try to see yourself with my eyes.”

“A liberal writer’s eyes,” she looked away as she mumbled.

“A liberal writer’s point of view isn’t always ridiculous or unreasonable,” he smiled.

“No,” she looked back at him and smiled herself, “I don’t know what would have happened to me, or my self-esteem, if I hadn’t met you.”

“Sooner or later, somewhere, somehow, someone else would have seen the substance that I did. But I would have been pretty unlucky in that case.”

She blushed and her eyes moistened. Siddhartha looked around and found the café rather empty. He lifted her hands to his lips and planted a soft kiss on each of them.

– The End –

Dear Mr. Sen,

Thanks you for writing. Things are fine with me. The new job comes with a generous health insurance for family apart from a good salary. The publisher has told me that first royalty cheque will also be in soon. It seems that all your expenses on marketing of the book are paying off. I am only fighting an emptiness within myself.

Had you sent Akash to me? It wasn’t a good idea.

Sincerely
Karishma

—

Dear Karishma,

Did something go wrong? What did Akash say? I am worried. Please reply soon.

Siddhartha

—

Dear Mr. Sen,

I am all right. There is nothing to be worried about. It just wasn’t comfortable meeting him. I don’t know what you were trying to do. But certain things aren’t meant to be. And this one has nothing to do with you or with what I did.

The publisher wants me to write another novel. Is this also your doing?

How is your story or novel coming along?

Sincerely
Karishma

—

Dear Karishma,

Would you please call me Siddhartha? I haven’t said anything to the publisher about another novel from you. This is completely your own doing.

In couple of weeks, I should be able to send you a draft for my novel. Yes. I wrote it that quickly.

Love
Siddhartha

—

“Love” – that one word in the letter took her breath away. She clutched the letter to her heart and let a drop of tear fall from her eyes. She spent the entire week almost in a daze. If she did manage to maintain some sanity, it was because of a very important deadline at work, which was straining the resources of the entire company, Karishma’s included. By Wednesday the project had been handed over to the client. On Thursday she received another letter from him before leaving for work. The day was slow and leisurely. She read the two letters repeatedly. The latter one dripping with anxiety.

“Karishma. You are worrying me again. Why haven’t you replied? What is going on in your head?”

She remembered that Thursdays were his no-meetings days. He didn’t accept any appointments on that day. He would not be busy with anyone else.

—

“I’m sorry, Ma’am. But I can’t disturb him today. You must get an appointment,” his secretary was not relenting.

“If you would just ask him once…”

“I’m sorry.”

“Neha. Send these back to legal and ask them to expedite it. We need this closed…” Karishma forgot to breathe as she saw Siddhartha striding towards his secretary, who was also affected similarly. But she had a job to do. “Yes Sir. You could have just called me…”

But Siddhartha was no longer listening to her. Because he had noticed Karishma standing there. It took even him a few moments to find his voice. “Hi,” he greeted uncertainly.

“Hi,” she barely whispered back.

The effect seeing Karishma had on Siddhartha was not lost on his secretary. She had intended to tell Siddhartha that the woman was bothering her. Instead, she just stood there deferentially.

“Neha. Do I have any appointments now?” he asked.

“No Sir. It’s Thursday.”

“Right. Come,” he motioned Karishma to follow him and she did.

“What happened?” he asked as soon as he locked the door of his office behind them.

“N… Nothing. I… just… I just wanted to see you.”

“Karishma…”

“I know. It was a stupid idea. Actually I was going to go back. Unfortunately you came out…” she blabbered.

“Karishma!”

“It’s not good for you, not for me… I will leave…”

He grabbed her hand as she turned, pulled her back and before she knew it his lips were locked to hers. Unprepared, she was out of breath soon and had to step back.

“Give me you bloody number. I was going to call Bittu again tonight. Why the hell were you not writing?” his voice croaked.

She gulped hard and kept her eyes downcast. He softened as he realized that she was really out of her depth. “Are you okay?” he asked softly.

She nodded, still not looking at him.

“Aren’t you going to talk to me?”

“You shouldn’t have spoken to Akash.”

“What happened?”

She recalled and tried to reproduce the conversation as well as she could.

—

“Karishma. I was really shocked that evening…”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Akash. What can possibly come out of it? I don’t have any explanations and I don’t want to give any.”

“I didn’t know about your problems, Karishma.”

“It doesn’t change anything.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I had done whatever I had to do before you had come back. And then…”

“But you hadn’t done anything. You still haven’t, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“I met Siddhartha Sen. And he told me that…”

“That we haven’t slept together.” He had nodded and she had given a sardonic smile. “Even that doesn’t change anything, Akash. It was a coincidence that I went to him and he decided to not take me to bed. I could have gone to someone else. Or he might have decided otherwise. As far as I am concerned, I had made my decision. And I can see how uncomfortable it makes you. That’s fine. That’s not your fault. My mess isn’t worth your time, Akash. Move on.”

“Do you not feel anything, Karishma? About us? That evening in my apartment…”

She had thought about it for a moment – a moment of introspection. And then it had dawned upon her. “I’m sorry that I did it, Akash. I am really sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I wasn’t aware of what was going in my own head. I had gone to bed with you, because he wouldn’t take me.”

What she didn’t feel for Akash, she felt for Siddhartha. And that conversation had made her realize that.

—

“Why aren’t you looking at me?” Siddhartha asked.

She didn’t reply.

“Karishma. Thanks a lot for coming.”

“You aren’t angry?”

“I just said – thanks. I think that means I am thankful.”

“Why would you be thankful?” She looked up without realizing it.

“I had made a rule that I regretted. But I couldn’t have broken it myself.”

“I should not have broken it either.”

“Why the regret?”

“There was a reason you had made the rule in first place. It isn’t good for either of us.”

“What do you want, Karishma?”

“Excuse me?”

“Forget about all the complications, considerations, people, our history… Forget about all of that and tell me what brought you here today? What is that one thing that will make you happy?”

She looked at him with puzzled expression. “I don’t know what you want to hear.”

“I want to hear what I asked. What will make you happy today? Right now?”

“Spending time with you…” she managed to answer.

“Do you feel the need to get married to do that?”

She shook her head.

“Who we spend our evenings with is nobody’s business. Karishma,” his voice grew thick with emotions, “I have missed you.”

She downcast her eyes as tears filled them up.

—

To be continued

“Really?” her eyes brightened up on hearing that.

“Really!”

“Wow! That’s… that’s so cool.”

“Come. Let me take you out for a dinner. If you have time…”

She smiled and blushed, “I always have much more free time than you do. Please don’t embarrass me.”

“Come then,” he got up and extended a hand to her. She took it. He picked up the two books lying on the table on their way out.

—

“Where do you stay?” he asked after they came out of the restaurant and sat in his car, “I will drop you home.”

She looked at him curiously.

“What happened?” he asked.

“I have wondered… all too often… And felt guilty… About us…”

“Guilty? About what? Nothing happened between us…”

“Yes. Does that make me more honest, or less so?” she smiled sadly, “Why did I take all that money from you? Do you want me? Did you ever want me?”

He turned serious. “Yes,” he said unhesitatingly, “I want you, Karishma. I want you a lot. I have found you lovely and desirable from the first time I had laid my eyes on you.”

“Then? Why not?”

“The first time I… I felt you were inexperienced.”

“I was not inexperienced.”

“You had other… clients?”

“Not clients.”

“With you ex-for-two-years boyfriend, then? In college?”

“Yes.” And after that too, she thought to herself as she recalled that evening in Akash’ apartment, but did not say anything about that.

“That isn’t the same thing. You were into this unwillingly.”

“But I knew what I was doing. I still know what I am doing.”

“You don’t have to do it. Not for money, not for gratitude.”

“What if… I want to do it.”

He fell silent and she looked away. Had she spoiled it all? She turned back, when she felt his hands on her shoulders.

“In that case…” he mumbled as he leaned towards her and met her lips. She responded passionately.

“But you know what,” he said after they broke the kiss, “If I take you to bed with me now, Karishma, I’d officially make you a prostitute. I don’t want to do that. I won’t do that.” She looked at him in astonishment. “Besides,” he continued, “You will meet people of your age. Someone will be the one – suitable to be your life-partner. This must not come in your way then.”

He grabbed his book from the back seat, took out a pen from his pocket, scribbled something on the book before signing it and gave it to her.

“Never look back,” it read. Tears threatened to betray her and she had to blink them back.

“My turn now,” he gave her book and his pen to her.

She looked at the book blankly for a while. What was she to write for him? Finally she did and gave it back.

“To you?” he was puzzled on reading it.

“If I started writing what all you have been to me – an inspiration, a mentor, a protector, a lover, a guardian and what else not – it would become too long and would still be incomplete. And if I started writing what I feel for you – respect, love, gratitude and what else not – that would be another long list. So, I guess you aren’t one thing for me. You are just… you.”

He chuckled to conceal how overwhelmed he felt. “Keep writing,” he said, “And now, tell me where you stay. It’s getting late. I must drop you.”

—

“Will we meet again?” she asked after the car stopped in front of her house.

“No,” he replied, “It will do you no good.”

“Can I write to you?”

“I’d look forward to your letters and your stories or next novel.”

She smiled, even as sadness washed over her face.

He leaned towards her once again, cupped her face in his hands and kissed her on forehead. “Good night, Karishma.”

“Good night, Mr. Sen,” she replied and got out of the car. She looked back once, when she reached the gate of her apartment. He lifted his hand in acknowledgement and drove off.

—

“Mr. Akash, isn’t it?”

“Yes Sir. Akash Malhotra,” Akash shook hands with Siddhartha. But he was puzzled. He hadn’t met Siddhartha Sen yet. How did he know his name? This was the first time Akash was attending a party his company had thrown for courting current and future customers.

“Siddhartha Sen. Good to see you here. So, you work for WS&G?”

“Yes. Mr. Sen.”

“I can see that you are puzzled. Yes. We have met. But in slightly unusual circumstances. Can we go someplace little more private? There! Nobody is there in the balcony.”

Akash followed him looking puzzled.

“I was with Karishma that night in the hotel…”

Akash looked like all blood had been drained out of his body.

“I know you were hurt. But please hear me out…”

“Why are we talking about that here, Mr. Sen? I don’t care and as far as I am concerned, I don’t know her.”

“Pardon me for sounding patronizing, young man. But I have seen a bit more of the world than you. You can say that you don’t care. But the hurt is evident in your eyes. I’m not trying to reunite you, or anything. But I think you have a shot at feeling better if you would just listen to me.”

Akash neither objected, nor agreed with him. Seeing him silent, Siddhartha continued and explained Karishma’s situation to him. “But what you would really want to know is that she hadn’t seen anyone other than me. And we didn’t sleep together. Never.”

If Akash had any questions, he was too tongue-tied to voice them.

“I don’t think she ever realized how badly it would have affected you. She just had too much on her mind. And not that you asked her either.”

“She could have told me before jumping into…”

“I don’t know why she didn’t. But I wouldn’t rush to judge a person.”

—

Dear Karishma,

I haven’t heard from you for quite some time. Suhas tells me that you have joined his company. Congratulations.

I hope everything is going well.

Siddhartha

—

Karishma let the phone ring. It must be a pocket dial. Why would he want to talk to her? But she was forced to pick up when the phone rang a second time.

“Hello,” she spoke uncertainly.

“Hello Karishma…” Akash’ voice was as uncertain and an awkward silence prevailed for a while. He broke it, “I was wondering… if we could meet once.”

“Meet? I don’t…”

“Please Karishma. Just once.”

“Fine. When?”

—

To be continued

Dear Karishma,

It is time to make a confession. I write under a pseudonym. This isn’t my real name and apart from a few people in the publishing house, nobody knows my real identity. So, I can’t officially attend your launch function. But I assure you that I will be there in the audience. I’m sure that the publishers will bring some celebrity to the function and attract good crowd.

As the launch date nears, I suspect that you might be nervous. Don’t be. You have done a great job with the book and I’m sure it will be well-received.

All the best
Manthan

—

She scanned the audience as she fought her trepidations. Her brother was excited. Her mother couldn’t come because her father couldn’t be left alone at home. Among the other unfamiliar faces, who was he? People continued to trickle in even after the programme started. A representative from the publishing house introduced people on stage. They had indeed gotten couple of celebrity writers for the launch and it had ensured some audience. This was followed by the formal unveiling of the book. People talked about the book and she politely smiled, laughed or added a comment here and there. She read out a chapter from the novel. Her job as a teacher for almost a year now had improved her oratory skills and the reading was well-received. This was followed by a journalist discussing the finer points of the book with her.

“Some people might say that the character of Dadaji was not quite realistic,” the journalist said, “His actions defy any of the usual motivations people have.”

“Trust me, when they say that reality is stranger than fiction, they are right. The story is not autobiographical, nor is it real. But all the characters, their actions, their motivations are inspired by real life. If you really want to find a rhyme or reason to his behaviour, you can look at a little anecdote from his childhood which is mentioned at another place in the book. I won’t tell you what that is right now,” she chuckled, “But I hope that when people sitting here go back home and read the book, they notice it.”

“So, reality is stranger than fiction, according to you?”

“Absolutely. It is in fiction that we try to find rhyme and reason. Reality just is. It doesn’t obey our logic.” At that moment, her eyes fell on him. Wearing casuals, an amused glint in his eyes, his attention was fixed on her. They eyes met and she needed no rhyme or reason to tell her that it was him.

It took some effort to concentrate on the discussion after that. But she managed. Many in the audience were sufficiently impressed to want a signed copy of the book. When she managed to get done with all the formalities, she rushed out to look for him. But he was gone!

—

“Bittu. I need his number.”

“You know, I can’t do that, K.”

“You call him and tell him that I want to meet. Just once. Not for work.”

“That’s not right… Clients call us. We don’t…”

“You had broken your rule once when he had wanted to meet me on an off day, hadn’t you, Bittu? Break the rule once more!”

“Fine. Let me see what I can do.”

—

“Karishma. It’s so good to see you,” Siddhartha beamed at her. He was really happy.

“I have called you today,” She looked at the envelope he was discreetly offering her and chuckled, “I should be paying you. Unfortunately I can’t afford your time.”

He also laughed and stuffed the envelope back in his pocket.

“Aren’t you going to ask why I called you?” she said after a pause.

“Why?”

“I figured that you were not interested in a signed copy of my book. But I could use one of yours,” she held out a book for him. It was the same one he had found her reading in Dalhousie. Her favourite author’s!

He smiled, “So, you figured it out?”

“I have been rather thick all these days. But yes. Finally. I did.”

“Then you could just have written to me. Why did you take Bittu’s help?”

“Because there was a small probability that I had gotten it wrong. And if I had, I would rather be proven wrong before you than a celebrity author I had never met.”

Siddhartha looked at her for a moment, an amused smile playing on his lip. Then he motioned her to sit. “Come,” he said, “We will do the signing later.” He took the book from her and kept it on a table. Then he showed her a copy of her book that was also lying there. “I want my copy signed too.”

She sat on the sofa and he joined her.

“So, tell me. How have you been, Karishma?”

“You should tell me. Things have been difficult for you, haven’t they?”

He sighed and nodded, “Yes. Very difficult.”

“So? Was it indeed drug overdose?”

“Yes.”

“I am sorry.”

“I must have done something wrong with relationships…”

“You are being too hard on yourself.”

“Not really. You probably do not know, but this was my second failed marriage.”

“Still…” She grew thoughtful, stared at her hands in her lap and did not speak further.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she looked up and smiled at him.

“Before I forget, keep this card with you. Suhas is a close friend of mine. Runs a small advertising firm and is always on lookout for creative people – for copywriting. If you want to change your job to a better-paying one, give him a call and give my reference.”

She looked hesitant, “You’ve already paid for publishing my book, I think. Will you be indirectly paying my salary here too?”

Siddhartha frowned, “Who told you that I paid for your book?”

“Nobody. But a new, unknown writer doesn’t get this VIP treatment just like that.”

“I have helped their business through many rough patches. They owe me that much. And if I did make your book happen, it was because I thought it was good and should be published. I am recommending you this job only because I think it will suit you,” he sounded annoyed.

“Please. Don’t get mad. I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s all right. I am just stressed out. I am very irritable these days.”

She nodded and took the card from him. “You have been through hell, Mr. Sen. But you did not abandon me. If I am not thanking you for it, it is because I don’t know how to. If I could ever do something for you…”

“You have done that already, Karishma. You have inspired me. I think… I am going to write again.”

—

To be continued

Karishma had followed the news religiously.

“The divorce proceedings were long-drawn and ugly.”

“The death happened under suspicious circumstances. Industrialist claims that he was not in town.”

“The son told the reporters that his father drove his mother to suicide.”

“Siddhartha Sen claims that he and his wife have not spoken in last two years except in the presence of their lawyers.”

“Police questions industrialist Siddhartha Sen in connection with his wife’s death.”

“Siddhartha Sen refuses to talk to media. Company’s share price plunges. Recovers later.”

Bittu sent her a message. “He has sent your payment. Collect it. Doesn’t look like he’d meet you. Want to see someone else?”

Karishma met him to collect the money and told him that she was taking a break.

“I don’t know what all he has promised you, but these love stories never end well. You’d do better to move on. Especially with all this mess.”

“He hasn’t promised me anything. I can just… afford… to take a break.”

“Your wish. But whenever you want to come back, I am there.”

“I know. Thanks Bittu.”

—

Going by the news, Siddhartha’s life had settled down at least bit. The post-mortem reports were not made public, but there were rumours that she had died of drug overdose. The son had apologized for his earlier rash remark, made in a moment of “emotional vulnerability”. There was another news of him being offered a seat on the board of one of the group companies.

Siddhartha hadn’t tried to contact her still. Even during their trip, they hadn’t exchanged the contact details. So, the only way he could get in touch was through Bittu.  But he would probably not risk that anytime soon.

Karishma felt a depressing feeling wash over her. He had promised to help her plan her future. That wasn’t going to happen now. She was on her own, again. With a little more money than earlier!

She had wanted to be a teacher since her childhood and had taken up the job as a default choice. When it didn’t turn out to be paying enough, she had panicked. Now she had some cushion. She was thinking carefully and exploring options. Probably a change in the job? Something in the corporate world?

—

Dear Karishma,

It took me some time to read the novel. I am sending the manuscript back with some comments. You don’t necessarily have to make all the changes I have suggested. But you can think them over.

Would you like to publish it?

Best wishes
Manthan

—

Her attempts at finding a better-paying job had not been fruitful till now. She didn’t know how to get a foothold. The few small companies she had been able to get a call from weren’t paying any better than her current job.

Could publishing be the answer to her troubles?

—

Dear Mr. Manthan,

I had never seriously thought about publishing. I’m not even sure how to approach publishers and not end up in the unread or rejected pile. Do you have a suggestion?

I am working on revising the manuscript and send you a revised version in few days. It will be a typed copy.

Sincerely
Karishma

—

Dear Karishma,

I apologize for the delay in replying. I was waiting for your revised manuscript so that I could show it to my publishers. You should hear from them soon.

All the best
Manthan

—

Dear Mr. Manthan,

I don’t know how to thank you enough for whatever you have told your publishers. I haven’t heard of any new, unknown author, who has been given an advance for a book deal. They also told me that they would bring the book out in three months.

I must tell you that this deal not only brings me creative satisfaction, but is also a real help monetarily. It will save me from many professional and moral compromises that would, otherwise, have been inevitable.

I send my sincere gratitude and good wishes your way. I don’t know if you need this, but you will always be in my prayers.

Sincerely
Karishma

—

Dear Karishma,

I am glad that the book deal is helpful. Keep me updated on the progress of the project. I hope the book does well and you never have to make any moral or professional compromises.

By the way, I noticed only recently that you had completed my unfinished story. You should have told me what you had done. I had assumed that you had just returned me the originals.

Best wishes
Manthan

—

Dear Mr. Manthan,

Thanks a lot for mentioning your story. I was afraid that you had taken offense at my audacity and that’s why you did not say anything about it. How did you like my version of the story’s climax?

Publishers have sent me the edited manuscript. The project is going faster than planned. My guess is that it is your doing. So, thanks a lot once again.

Sincerely
Karishma

—

Dear Karishma,

To be honest, when I first realized that you had completed my story, I was astonished at what you call your audacity. When I read what you had written, I was ambivalent. If I had completed the story, my heroine would certainly not have done what you made her do. Then I spent some time thinking over it. And I realized that what you had done was better. It makes the character much stronger and also addresses a flaw in my writing that someone had pointed out to me recently. So, it is my turn to thank you.

I am waiting for your book to hit the market as eagerly as you are.

Best wishes
Manthan

—

Dear Mr. Manthan,

Thank you for not minding my audacity. When I read the incomplete story, the possible scenarios just kept playing in my mind and I felt compelled to write a climax for it.

Are you really not writing another book?

Sincerely
Karishma

—

Dear Karishma,

Probably someday the inspiration will strike again. Right now, I am not writing anything. Did you get around to reading the book I had sent?

Best wishes
Manthan

—

Dear Mr. Manthan,

I am half-way through the book. I must thank you for recommending and sending me the book. If I could write a book like this someday, I think I will happily and contentedly retire from everything.

The publisher tells me that they will organize a high-profile launch event for my novel. You must already be aware of it, because I think this is your doing too. Would you please attend the function? It would be an honour to meet you.

Sincerely
Karishma

—

To be continued

“Oh, thank God! I hated calling you Krystal. But what… what did you say your name is?”

“Karishma Gupta,” she looked at him curiously, “What happened?”

“Nothing,” he smiled faintly, “For a moment it sounded familiar.” On seeing her look alarmed, he assured her, “Don’t worry. I don’t think we have met otherwise. Karishma. Good to call you by a real name.” He beamed.

“I hadn’t realized it would make you so happy… At least you look happy…”

“I am happy. I hate these fake names. But have to live with them sometimes…” his voice trailed unexplainably.

“You could just have asked.”

“You were very careful and did not like revealing anything about yourself. And it was a good practice. So, I didn’t want to intrude.”

She smiled guiltily, “I also lied about what I do. I am not studying. As in – I have finished my masters.”

“Hmm… And then?”

“I took up a job as a teacher.”

“Why did you lie about that?”

“It was just… I couldn’t reconcile myself to me as a teacher by the day and as an… What would someone like me be expected to teach the kids? Teaching as a job increased my conflict manifold.”

“If you had a job, and you were so conflicted about it, why then…”

“Teaching doesn’t earn me enough.” She told him about her family’s situation.

“But you are comfortable now, right?”

“Hmm,” she nodded thoughtfully, her eyes downcast, “My family is comfortable now.”

“You are not?” he understood her intent.

She started crying. He held her, but let her cry for a while. “Calm down,” he said after a while, “Why are you so agitated? Just talk to me. What do you want?”

“I just want to earn an honest living. And I want to earn enough so that my family gets what they need. I know that it takes time to grow, but that’s what I don’t have. I don’t have time. My parents are suffering now. My brother needs to study now.”

“Is that all?”

“It’s not trivial.”

“No. It’s not trivial, Karishma. But the good thing is that you know exactly what you want. Here is what we will do. Once we get back to Mumbai, we will take stock of your financial situation and your career choices and work it out. Does that sound good?”

She wiped her tears and nodded.

“That’s great. Now, will you wash you face and figure out why they haven’t brought breakfast yet? I am famished.”

She smiled slightly, “Sorry. I’m spoiling your vacation.”

“No. You are not. So long as you get them to bring the breakfast.”

The bell rung. Breakfast had come!

—

They strolled down the scenic mountain road.

“I just love mountains,” he said.

“I think I am falling in love with them too.”

“What’s his name, Karishma?”

“Whose?”

“Your boyfriend’s?”

“Ex-boyfriend. Akash.”

“Akash. Right. You should try and talk to him. He had looked genuinely hurt. He, obviously, still had feelings for you.”

“It wouldn’t work out, Mr. Sen.”

“Why not? If he knows…”

“It’s not about us. Even otherwise.”

“Why not?”

“In college, he was the rich man’s son. I was the good student. We had a shot at being equal. Now, he is still a rich man’s son. And a hot-shot investment banker. I am a nobody, struggling to make ends meet…”

“If he loves you, he would support you.”

“What if I don’t love him?”

“You don’t?”

“We had broken up because he had to go to the US. For his MBA. I lost the connect. I didn’t feel anything after he came back and we tried to hang out. Life, anyway, had felt very different in college.”

“Hmm…”

“Were you serious about it, when you said you would help me?” she looked at him with a childlike anticipation and fear.

“Why do you think I was not serious? Why would I say it otherwise?”

“I had started crying. What option did you have?” she looked away embarrassed.

He laughed, “You are one of your kind, Karishma. You analyze yourself too much, don’t you?”

“Well…”

“Good that you are into reading then. It keeps you from tearing apart yourself and other living beings. You can keep analyzing fictional characters.”

“Yeah. You said you have read all of Manthan’s books too?”

“Yeah. Sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“I think I can talk about those intelligently enough.”

She laughed. “I really like how witty his writing is. And all the books he has written are different. He experiments with forms and none of his experiments disappoint.”

“You sound like a true fan.”

“I am. I am a big fan! There is only one aspect of his writing that I don’t like.”

“What?”

“His portrayal of women.”

“Really?” he was surprised, “I thought his female characters are modern and forward. Why would you have a problem with that?”

“Modern and forward is fine. But they don’t show any signs of… strength or intellect.”

“How so?”

“There is this girl, who is so antagonistic to her father, because she had caught him cheating on her mother. After growing up, she falls hard for a married man and insists that he leave his wife and daughter to be with her. And the irony of the situation is just not evident to her. It falls to the lot of that married lover to think of that.”

“Hmm…”

“Or this actress who gives up her career for marriage; then realizes that she had married the wrong man. But instead of walking out, and trying to rebuild her career, she chooses to find consolation in cheating and then acting the loving, cooperating wife. It is so difficult to garner any respect for her.”

“Interesting. Never thought of it that way.”

“Although who am I to judge their respectability?” she laughed self-deprecatingly.

Siddhartha appeared not to have heard her though. He was lost in thoughts. She noticed that, but did not immediately disturb him. They continued walking in silence.

—

“What? No… Are you sure? … Right. Yes. I am coming… I am taking the next flight back…” Siddhartha’s jaws were set tight when he got off the phone.

“What happened?” Karishma could sense the tension.

“Monika… my wife… died.”

Wife? Right! He couldn’t possibly be unmarried. But why did it not come up till now? And died?

“I… I am sorry,” the expression came to her automatically, “What happened?”

“I don’t know yet. I will have to leave immediately.”

“Yeah. I will pack up.”

“No. Don’t leave with me. Leave tomorrow as planned. I will have the arrangements made for your travel.”

She nodded. She wasn’t the only one who needed to be careful. She left his room, when he did not say anything further and started packing up.

Bittu called up soon after. The news was all over. She updated him on their plan.

“Will you be fine? You don’t really have to wait just because he says so. You are alone there.”

“I’m all right, Bittu. Don’t worry about me. If I come back early, I will have to explain at my home too.”

“All right. But call me if there is a problem.”

“Will do.”

—

To be continued