The restaurant was unusually crowded. Paridhi and Subrato had to wait outside for a table to get free.
“Paridhi. What are you doing here?” A woman in her early 50s recognized her.
Paridhi was startled, but managed to reply, “Hello Auntie. Actually we had a class dinner. This is our professor – Dr. Sen. Both of us reached early. We are waiting for others to come.”
“Ah! Okay. You people have luxurious ways of studying. Professors taking you to dinner and all,” it was difficult to figure out if she was impressed or being skeptical, “In our days, we used to be scared of our professors.”
“Educators have realized over time,” Subrato chipped in, “That being friends with students is a better way of getting them to learn than scaring them.”
“Sure. Of course,” the woman found it difficult to counter that and took their leave.
“You are a smooth liar,” Subrato grinned after the woman had left.
She was not amused, “It was a bad idea. We shouldn’t have come.”
“Hey. What happened? Who was she, anyway?”
“A prospective mother-in-law. She lives in Lucknow. I don’t know what will she tell Mummy now…”
“Relax. Your story was good. And if needed I will stand your witness. Come on now. We had come here to cheer you up. Don’t get depressed again.”
“Yes. Of course. Sorry. I think our table is ready…”
“Paridhi. I…” he started saying when they were seated.
“Why do you pronounce my name like that? It’s Pa-ri-dhi and not Po-ri-di!” she was extremely irritated.
“What is my name?” he asked calmly.
“Excuse me?”
“How do you pronounce my name?”
“I… I don’t know. I never call you by your name.”
“Try it.”
“Subrat… I mean Subrato Sen,” she replied awkwardly.
He laughed out loud at her discomfort in getting the Bengali pronunciation of his name right. “I think it does not matter how you call someone. What matters is whom you are calling.”
“I am sorry. And I have lost count of how many times I have said sorry to you…”
“It’s all right. You are worried and…”
“No. It’s not. It is unfair that you bear the brunt of my frustrations…”
“Well. Today I am the reason of your frustration. It was my idea to bring you here.”
“It was up to me to accept or reject it. How could you possibly have known…”
“Stop being so hard on yourself.”
Paridhi sighed and changed the subject, “Shall we order?”
“Yeah.”
“You remember when I had given a surprise test in the class?” Subrato asked during dinner.
“Yes. Very well. You never gave another surprise test. You didn’t care about attendance either. Wonder what had come upon you?”
“I was very upset that day. I didn’t think I could teach. That was a last moment solution to avoid having to work.”
“What made you so upset?”
“It was something that had happened a year ago actually,” Subrato said and then narrated the story of Stacey.
“I… I’m sorry about that,” Paidhi looked genuinely affected.
“I am trying to get over it. I guess I am already quite successful.”
“But doesn’t talking about it bring back the bad memories?”
“You mean to ask why I shared it with you?”
“Well… yeah…”
“Two reasons. One is that willingly or unwillingly, you shared some of your most personal problems with me. I liked that you did so. And I did not want you to be uncomfortable about it. Now, we both have each other’s secrets. So, we can feel secure about our own being kept safe.”
Paridhi chuckled at that and asked, “And second?”
“Second is that I needed to share it with someone who won’t react by extolling the virtues of Indian arranged marriages.”
Paridhi laughed out loud at that, “That was very clever of you indeed. Choosing someone who is a victim of arranged marriage system to share it with. You get all the sympathies. All the options look very bleak for both of us then.”
“They do, don’t they? And thank God. You laughed. Even if it was at the bleakness of options.”
“You make it sound like I am always crying or something. I have nothing against laughing.”
“No. You don’t. That’s what makes it heartbreaking when you are sad or distressed.”
She sighed and shrugged, “I wish God thought about it the way you do. He seems to revel in creating troubles for me… For all of us…”
“God is a tricky topic to discuss. We should stay focused on the topic of marriages.”
“Or food. How did you like the kebabs?”
“They are delicious. Good choice of restaurant.”
“Thanks. But you must really try the road-side ones. I don’t know if it’s the pollution, the dust or the unhygienic water, but they taste much better.”
“Wow! With that description, you just pushed the possibility of me eating them a few years further in future.”
“Your loss!”
“Indeed!”
—
“Really? Your marriage is fixed? With that woman’s son?”
“Looks like.”
“So, I didn’t do much harm, after all. She didn’t have any complaints against you roaming around with another man?” Subrato grinned.
“Looks like, she didn’t.”
Subrato looked at her for a second and then asked with concern, “You don’t look happy. You don’t like the guy?”
“How would I know? I haven’t met him.”
“Excuse me? How can the marriage be fixed like that?”
“How do I explain something to you, which I myself don’t understand?” she looked dejected and was on the verge of tears.
“I’m sorry, Paridhi. I am, obviously, not helping. I wish I could… But you definitely would know better than me on how to handle the situation. Obviously asking you to rebel against your family is not a solution.”
“No. It isn’t. Thanks for understanding that.”
“Can I help in any way?”
She shrugged with a sad smile. How could he possibly help?
“But I can listen. And I will try to listen without falling for the temptation of giving advice that is not useful to you.”
“You know what. There is one man in the world who I can marry this blindly.”
“Who?” Subrato asked with a raised eyebrow wondering what she was talking about.
“The man for whom your American girlfriend left you. He is supposedly better than even you, right?” she laughed at her own joke.
“Now arranging that would be some revenge I could take on her, and help you at the same time. But I think we will have to do with something more practical.”
“Like discussing the project.”
“Sure. Just one question. Why haven’t you met the guy? Where is he?”
“In US. New York. He can’t keep coming to India all the time. So, he will come straight for the wedding.”
“And he doesn’t care about getting married to girl he doesn’t know at all?”
“Big, fat dowry – I guess that reduces the perceived risk a lot. And then he is supposedly this obedient, sanskari son, who trusts his parents blindly. Unlike me.”
“Your parents have met him?”
“No. But they trust the person who brought the proposal to them blindly. So, I am supposed to extend that blind trust as well.”
“Hmm…”
“Project?”
“Yeah. Sure! Let me see what have you done till now.”
—
To be continued
