Mish' Fiction

Mrinal felt unsure of the entire idea, when he met Shashank. He was a short, stocky man, who looked anxious and fidgety. He would look around sheepishly as if seeking approval from people around him. Mrinal just couldn’t think of him as a match for the calm, dignified and self-composed Antara. But he shouldn’t go by the external appearances. How he looked could convey nothing about what he was like as a person. His anxiety might just be a result of unusual circumstances. You didn’t have a meeting with your lover’s spouse every day, as Antara would have put it.

—

“Hi!” Antara looked up from the magazine she was reading, when Mrinal reached home with Shashank. But she showed no signs of recognizing Shashank.  She waited for Mrinal to introduce them. Was she capable of so much deception?

Mrinal looked at Shashank, who cleared his throat and smiled at Antara. “Antara. It has been so long…”

Antara frowned, but tried to smile politely, “I… I’m sorry. But do we know each other?”

“There is no need to pretend any longer, Antara. He knows… and understands…” Shashank took a step towards her and she recoiled.

“What.. what’s going on, Mrinal ji?” she addressed him, “Who is he?”

Mrinal was alarmed now. He came closer so that he could come between Shashank and Antara if needed. “You don’t know him? Shashank?”

Her eyes widened in horror and she looked anxiously from Mrinal to Shashank and back. “How did you… What did he tell you… Oh God!” She sounded miserable; but then her voice turned stern and she shouted at Shashank, “Leave. Now!”

“Antara. Why are you doing this? This is the time to set everything all right…” Shashank moved further towards her. But Mrinal came in between.

“Call the security. Make him leave right away,” she addressed Mrinal this time, still sounding mad.

“Let’s go,” Mrinal took Shashank away himself. He wasn’t physically strong. Mrinal did not feel any threat on that count.

“She is just shy and nervous,” Shashank tried to reason with Mrinal on his way out, “Let me talk to her alone.”

“Later!” Mrinal replied, “You should leave now.”

“I will wait outside.”

“Don’t do anything like that. Leave now.”

“I’m not leaving.”

“Don’t make me call the security,” Mrinal glared at him and he cowered.

—

Antara was pacing up and down the hall when Mrinal returned. She was furious. Mrinal was already confused to the core. When she came charging at him and started hitting him on the chest, he could do nothing but stand motionless. It wasn’t hurting him physically. In fact, in a strange way, this was the most intimate contact they had ever had.

“Do you have any idea what you have done? You have brought a disillusioned stalker home,” she cried.

“Antara. I…”

“How could you do this? You have a baby at home. Did you think of her safety before bringing a stranger home like that? Did you think of my safety? Your own?” she had stepped away from him now, but her anger showed no signs of subsiding.

Mrinal just stared agape. He had pictured lovers reuniting at the end of this evening. This was going totally astray.

“I want a safe home for myself, for my family. I don’t care what your free-spirited ex-wife would have thought….” She suddenly fell silent, realizing how mean and inappropriate her words became with the mention of Raksha. They were standing in the hall. Anybody, Shayama, the cook or other house help could have come in. It was just a lucky coincidence that none of them were in the house right now.

But Shyama did come back just then with Mahi. She had taken her out as was their regular routine. But Mahi had started crying. “I think it’s the teething troubles, Didi,” Shyama started explaining as she brought Mahi to Antara, but she hesitated when she noticed the state she was in. Something was definitely the matter the way Mrinal and Antara were standing and looking at each other. Shayama hesitated, “But don’t worry. I will take care of her…”

“No,” Antara replied. Although she regretted her outburst, she was still very angry with Mrinal, “Let me take her. At least she trusts me, even without the power of understanding.”

Without sparing even a glance at Mrinal, she walked to the bedroom. After Shayama left to go to her room, Mrinal ran after Antara. Antara washed one of her hands, while still carrying Mahi with the other; and then gently massaged her gums with the clean hand. It soothed the baby’s gums. She looked around for a teether. Mrinal fetched one and brought it to her. He looked like a young child trying to please an angry parent. After Mahi calmed down, Antara laid her down on her baby gym. Soon, she got busy with the toys hanging around her. Antara left her to play, and sat down on a chair. All this time, she did not acknowledge Mrinal’s presence in the room.

“I messed up, didn’t I?” Mrinal finally broke the silence. He was standing at some distance against a wall.

“I didn’t even know him by face. Whatever you suspected, couldn’t you have asked me first?”

“Antara… I…” he was at a loss for explanation.

“I know that you loved her, Mrinal ji,” she spoke in a deliberately controlled and low voice, and kept her eyes downcast, “You loved Raksha ji. You probably still do. And you will probably never be able to love me. Our marriage happened in the circumstances that were not acceptable to you. Still I have to ask. In all these months that we have spent under the same roof, did I not give you any reason to put at least a little bit of trust in me?”

Mrinal stayed silent. Things had gone haywire as it is. To top that Antara was repeatedly talking about Raksha, comparing herself with her, reminding him of all he wanted to forget, things that wore him down. This wasn’t something she often did. Why now!

“Or has my presence in your life become so intolerable that you are just waiting for an honourable reason to get rid of me?”

She looked up when he still did not say anything and was shocked to see silent tears running down in cheeks.

“Oh my God!” she got up worried, “What have I done… I… I am sorry… Mrinal ji.”

“No. I am sorry. I am not supposed to break down. I am a father, a husband… a man… I am not supposed to be weak…”

“No. That’s not how it works. Everyone is allowed to be weak… When life doles out such… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have reminded you of her…”

“I don’t know what I would have done without you, Antara,” he burst forth with a completely unexpected declaration for her. “Yes. I was a broken man. I still am. You are right that I had loved her. Despite all the troubles in our married life, I had loved her. Probably marrying so early had been a mistake on my part. But that didn’t change the fact that I had loved her. For all her free-spiritedness, I hadn’t seen this coming. Not after Mahi…”

Tears continued to fall down his cheeks even as he wiped them.

“You have never talked about it, have you?” she asked in a soft, concerned voice.

He shook his head, “But why do you care, Antara? Why should you care? I had loved her and she didn’t care… Why should you?”

—

To be continued

Mrinal stood at the door after coming back from college and watched. Mahi was lying on their bed and Antara was lying beside her, propped up on her hands, softly singing a lullaby. The baby was whimpering from time to time, but she patiently patted her and finally put her to sleep.

“Hi!” he spoke and walked in. She was startled by his voice and sat up.

“You came early,” she said looking distracted.

“Yeah. Why is she sleeping now?” he asked about Mahi.

“She has been cranky today,” she said.

Mrinal noticed her picking up some paper from the side table. He didn’t think much about it. He had to give her something. “I have something for you…”

Her reaction surprised him. Her eyes grew wide. She looked scared. “A letter?” she asked, barely able to speak. She had noticed that the envelope was open.

“No. It’s just a form. What happened?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all.” It wasn’t difficult to see through her lie, when she said, “I think there is something in my eyes. I will go to the bathroom.” The only thing in her eyes were tears. What was up? But Mahi woke up as soon as she got down from the bed. She stopped, looking perplexed.

“I am here,” Mrinal assured her and lied down beside his daughter to calm her down. Antara practically ran to the bathroom.

“What form was it?” she asked after coming back. She had washed her face and was calm now.

Mrinal looked at her, deliberating for a moment whether to ask her about what had just happened, but decided against it. “It is from the college. The student counsellor has resigned. They are looking for a replacement. I thought you could apply.”

“A job?”

“Not a full-time job. You have to be in campus twice a week. And in emergencies, if required.”

“Hmm…” she looked lost.

“Only if you want to apply.”

“Yes. Of course. I will apply,” she found her bearings back, “I just asked because you had already spent so much on converting the outer room to an office for me. It would be wasted if I took a job elsewhere.”

He smiled at her, “Invested, not spent. Trust me. Despite my innocuous profession of teaching, I have a businessman’s blood in my veins.”

She smiled nervously, “I hope it turns out to be a good investment.”

“Don’t worry,” he replied and got down to go the bathroom, “I will freshen up.”

He took a deep breath as he looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. What was she hiding? Was she troubled by something? What? Could he ask? Did he have the right to ask? He had ignored her before marriage. He had still been occupied with his own issues after marriage, in the process continuing to ignore her, even as she took up all the responsibilities of Mahi. Until the get-together, he didn’t even know about her professional qualifications. She couldn’t be blamed if she didn’t feel like sharing anything with him. What should he do? It was his duty to find out, even if he couldn’t claim the rights. So, he would ask. But he did ask. And she refused to answer.  He could insist; not give up… He suddenly remembered the paper she had hastily grabbed from the side-table when he had come in. It wasn’t there with her when she came back from the bathroom. What was it? And where was it?

He looked in the dustbin. Nothing. Could she have flushed it? He was about to give up on the idea, when he noticed the cabinet above the sink. It had the cleaning supplies and toilet papers. He opened it and fished around. He found a crumpled piece of paper.

“My dearest Antara,

I know you are mad at me. I haven’t come to you till now. But what could I do? Just finding out where you had been sent off by your family was so difficult. But don’t worry. It isn’t easy to come to you in somebody else’s home. But I will come. I know how terrible the life is for you. How unhappy you must be. I am dying to see the smile on your lips and that twinkle in your eyes that came only when you saw me. Wait for me.

I had to change my number. My new number is 99xxx09xxx. I don’t even have your Mumbai number. Please call me. Don’t be afraid of anyone. Love conquers all.

Love
Shashank”

The weather was pleasant, but Mrinal found himself sweating profusely. He stumbled and had to sit down on the closed commode seat. Was this to be his fate? Cuckolded? Every time! Why had he been so blind to everything? Why was she fine with not having any physical relationship with him? What were those burned papers in the dust bin on their wedding night about? Who did she chat with every other night? What was that letter without any name for the sender about? Why was she so alarmed when she thought he was carrying a letter for her? He felt enraged. He would demand answers from her. Why should she do this to him? He got up to go out and confront her, but stopped before opening the bathroom door. His senses kicked in. What was he expecting out of this confrontation? It wasn’t like he had married her out of love. What right did he have of questioning her? She was an orphan, dependent on her uncle and aunt. She had to lie to her aunt even to do a professional course. What control would she have had over who she was married off to? Probably they had married her to him to rid her of this lover? And she had been unable to do anything? The strange ideas of family values and honour that our society holds! If he had met her before marriage, as would be expected even in arranged marriages these days, if he had tried to talk to her and understand her, he would have known beforehand. But he didn’t do any of that. He had hardly paid her any attention even after the marriage. What right did he have to confront her, blame her? She hadn’t done anything blame-worthy. If anything she had made sacrifices for him. She had done more than her duty towards his daughter. He would be left alone and distraught, but he would have to do the right thing by her. And he would save his dignity in the process. He had missed seeing the obvious with Raksha. That he was no longer good enough for her. He wouldn’t let it become that bad with Antara. He would not let her abandon him. He would respect her decision before she has to make it. He looked at the paper and memorized the number that was there.  Then he kept it back in the cabinet, trying his best to place it exactly where it was.

Antara was alarmed to see his shirt drenched in sweat when he came out. “What happened? Are you ill, Mrinal ji?” she asked.

“Must be high blood pressure. I sometimes get that… I will be in the study. I have to grade some assignments.”

“If your blood pressure has shot up, you need to take rest. You can grade later…”

“No Antara. I am running on a deadline. If Mahi troubles you too much, you can leave her with me…”

“I’d be fine,” she replied wondering about his tone turning brittle all of a sudden. Was it because of the blood pressure? Had it suddenly shot up that badly? He had never mentioned blood pressure problems earlier…

—

Mrinal was sure of the situation. He couldn’t recall anything that would indicate otherwise. . He had forgotten how she had shivered when he had barely touched her for a moment on their wedding night. He had forgotten the moist eyes that sometimes stared at him when she thought he wasn’t aware. He had forgotten how she had been the perfect counsellor, the best friend for him, trying to bring him out of his suffering and misery of abandonment. He had forgotten her genuine motherly love and care for Mahi. He assumed that her acceptance of the baby was a matter of not having a choice. Just like this marriage.

“Hello,” Mrinal heard a sleepy drawl at the other end.

“Hello. Am I speaking to Shashank?”

“Yes. Who is it?”

“I am Mrinal Agarwal,” he hesitated before completing his introduction, “Antara’s husband.”

He waited for a reaction from the other end before explaining his purpose, but the call was disconnected immediately. He sighed and then sent an SMS. “I just want to talk to you and do the right thing. Please call back.”

He received a missed call after few minutes. He called back.

—

To be continued

“That’s fine,” she replied somberly, “I understand… I think I do… But here is the thing. If they are the people you care about, and if they are the ones who care about you, then it should just be enough to tell them what has happened and they should accept it. And if you ask them not to question you, and just support you in this hour of need, they should do that too. If they don’t, probably it is the right time you stopped caring about them. And if they do, then you know that you have these friends for life. You might have to ask for support though. You might have to tell them that you don’t need pity, sympathy or curious questions, but support. This isn’t a situation one faces every day.  So, they may not know what is expected of them unless you tell them. So, in your place, I’d do that, and then see where it goes.”

Mrinal was astonished. He had started talking to her purely on an impulse. He had almost regretted being too open. But this was changing things. He had not, even in his wildest dream, expected such well-reasoned advice coming from her – a girl who would have been brought up with the sole aim of getting married and be an obedient wife and daughter-in-law; who hadn’t been able to oppose the terrible match he was for her and had to accept mothering the child of a husband whom she didn’t know and couldn’t love; who would have spent her life trying to do what society thought was the right thing to do. If it weren’t for all that, she couldn’t have been his mother’s favourite. When did independent thoughts manage to grow their roots in her mind? Where did she learn to give a damn to people who didn’t deserve to be cared about?

His stare made her self-conscious. “I’m sorry. I, probably, went overboard. It is easier to preach…”

“No. You are right. Let me hope that I have the courage to do that. And that I am still left with some friends,” he smiled sadly.

“If it matters,” she spoke in a low, but sure voice, “I would still be here.” Then she left without meeting his eyes. She was afraid that her words won’t be valued by him and it would become obvious if she looked at him. She wanted to spare herself the hurt that would inevitably follow.

But he was smiling after her. That night he would have liked to touch her. But she was chatting with her friend in the other room and he fell asleep by the time she came back to the bedroom.

—

“So, what do you do Antara?” a guest asked. Mrinal had wanted her to meet his friends and colleagues. She had suggested a get-together at home. There was awkwardness in the exercise for sure. Mrinal had done exactly what she had suggested. He had sent an e-mail to everyone individually, worded more or less the same. He had told them about Mahi’s birth, about Raksha leaving him and about him marrying Antara. He had requested them for support, and not questions. Then after her suggestion of the get-together, he had invited them home. Most of them had obliged him by not asking questions, despite the speculations that were rife behind his back. But not asking questions, and pretending that it was all usual, did not make the situation any less tricky. The only relief was that Antara was handling it pretty well, attending to the guests and making them comfortable.

“I am a counsellor,” replied Antara surprising Mrinal. He shot her a questioning look, but she avoided it.

“Counsellor, as in a career counsellor?”

“No. As in a psychologist. I work mostly with adolescents and children.”

“Ah! Nice.”

“You are a lucky bastard,” Prof. Sinha, a senior colleague cornered Mrinal, “I know you don’t want any questions asked; so I am not going to ask you how you managed to find someone like her so quickly. But I am happy for you. She won’t let your life fall apart.”

Mrinal nodded and looked at Antara. She had brought Mahi out and was introducing her excitedly to the guests. She was every bit a proud mother. And a caring wife. And a counsellor? A competent one  at that – she had managed to counsel him correctly too.

“Thank you, Sir,” Mrinal replied to his senior deferentially, “And you are right. Come and meet Mahi. Our daughter.”

—

“There was a letter for you in the mailbox,” Mrinal went to her as soon as the guests departed and handed her a letter.

“From whom?”

“Don’t know. Doesn’t say anything on the envelope.”

She frowned, but he didn’t notice. He was too consumed by his curiosity, “You are a counsellor? Mummy never mentioned. Were you working before…”

“She didn’t know,” Antara replied sheepishly, “I am a closet counsellor.”

“Huh?”

After finishing her post-graduation in Psychology, she had taken the training to become a counsellor. “I had told Chachi ji that it was a cooking class,” she grinned, “And to showcase my improving culinary skills, I would scour up Internet for recipes and cook something once in a while.”

He chuckled. “Why did you have to lie?”

“She wouldn’t have liked me trying to do something to get a job. ‘What would people say? That we can’t take care of our orphaned niece and she has to work to provide for herself?’”

Mrinal had known that she stayed with her uncle and aunt because her parents were dead. But the word “orphaned” struck him. She was dependent on people other than her parents. She didn’t have much choice. Not in her career. Not in her marriage! “Hmm… But you said you work with…” he asked wanting to know more.

“Online.”

“How?”

It was her cousin Parikshit’s idea. He was studying in Delhi for last two years. “You have to see, Didi, how pressurized many of the students are. The joker of a counsellor they have in college in useless – only a mouthpiece of administration to save their asses. You can help them.”

That was how it started. Most of her early clients were kids in Parikshit’s college. Then the word spread around. They paid in Parikshit’s account because she didn’t even have a bank account “And every time he came home, he would dutifully carry all of that as cash for me. I told him that I didn’t need it and he should keep it for himself. But he was adamant.”

“That’s impressive, Antara. You never told me.”

She smiled at him and replied after a pause, “You never asked.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Yes. I never asked. I am sorry.”

“I wasn’t complaining,” she replied realizing that she would have sounded accusing.

“No. You weren’t. And that is the most amazing thing. Let’s get you out of the closet then. And get you a bank account too.” He was surprised to see her eyes grow moist. “What happened?” he was alarmed.

“Nothing. Thank you, for the support.”

He looked confounded for a moment. She wasn’t the one who should be saying this. But he replied with a “not a problem”. He should instead have thanked her, for all the support.

—

To be continued

Mrinal was thankful that his mother hadn’t gone overboard in the wedding arrangements. The ceremony was a simple one. But that didn’t mean things weren’t going to be difficult for him. As he entered his bedroom late in the evening, he wondered how he would handle this wedding night. He didn’t know her at all. And he wasn’t up for… Before he could make up his mind, he was already in the room and was in for a surprise. Antara, in all her wedding finery, was holding Mahi and putting her to sleep by gently rocking and patting her. She didn’t notice him coming and he stood rooted near the door in silence. It didn’t take long for the baby to drift to sleep. He went in as she settled her in the crib. She was startled to see him as she turned away from the crib. She stopped in her tracks while he approached her.

“I… I am sorry,” he stammered, “I had asked Shyama to take her…” He referred to the nanny.

“She had come. I asked her to leave Mahi with me…”

He looked at her face closely for the first time. She looked young. Too young! Was she ready for the responsibility of being a mother? That too of someone else’s child? Why had she agreed to this marriage? What was in it for her? Or did she not have a choice?

“I hope that wasn’t a problem,” she said hesitatingly, growing conscious of his stare.

He averted his eyes. “I don’t know…” he mumbled. “Look Antara,” he spoke suddenly as if he had just discovered the words and didn’t want to risk forgetting them, “This really isn’t anybody’s responsibility, except mine. I don’t know why you agreed for this marriage. But…”

“But you have married for the sake of your daughter,” she interrupted surprising him. Her eyes were downcast as she spoke, “And I will try my best to not let you down.”

“That’s not what I meant. And you don’t have to…”

“I’m fine, Mrinal ji. Don’t worry about me.”

He didn’t know what else to tell her. Standing before him was a stunningly beautiful woman. It was their wedding night. She had unconditionally accepted what would have been the most unwanted responsibility of this marriage. She would have some expectations for tonight. He should fulfill that…

He went closer and held her arm. He could feel her physical reaction to the touch. She was young, and inexperienced. Biologically it should have been a turn-on for him too. But he just couldn’t proceed. He let out a sigh and stepped back.

“We don’t know each other,” it sounded like a sad excuse to him, but he couldn’t think of anything better.

It was just a touch, but it took her a moment to catch her breath. “I’m tired. I will change and go to sleep,” she said. She opened on of her suitcases and took a night dress to the bathroom. When she came back, he had already changed and lied down on the bed. His had closed his eyes, although he was not asleep. He did not see the moist look she gave him before she lied down on the other side of the bed, as close to the edge as possible, and switched off the lights.

—

They woke up together. Mahi was crying. Mrinal rushed to the crib first. Antara switched the light on; then followed him. The room was unfamiliar for her. She would have stumbled in dark.

“She needs a diaper change,” he mumbled out the information as a courtesy to Antara and made to go towards the cupboard to take a fresh one out.

“I will do it,” Antara offered trying to fight off her sleepiness, “Where is it?”

He hesitated; then pointed towards the cupboard. She brought one from there; but then looked lost.

“Do you know how to change it?” he asked.

She shook her head and gave him an embarrassed smile. He could not help smiling back. He took the diaper from her and started changing.

“Show me. I will learn,” she said.

He nodded and gave her the space to observe. After changing the diaper, he went to the bathroom to discard the soiled one and noticed what looked like burned paper in the dust bin.

“Did you burn something in the bathroom?” he asked on coming back.

“No. Nothing. Why?”

“It looked like some burned paper was there in the dust bin.”

“I have no clue.”

“Some house help might have thrown something while cleaning up.” He looked at the clock. “We should also feed her,” he said and then wondered at his use of ‘we’. Was it so easy to accept her role as his daughter’s parent? In a matter of few hours? She didn’t even know how to change a diaper. Or how to prepare the formula for feeding her. But he saw her watching keenly as he took the warm water out of the thermos and prepared Mahi’s food. Why was she doing this? In his resignation and self-pity, all these days, he had forgotten to think about the girl he was going to get married to. Shouldn’t he have thought beforehand? Why would any girl agree to a marriage like this? That too, without knowing him, without even meeting him once?

—

But he didn’t manage to ask her. Nor did they manage to consummate their marriage. They were back in Mumbai. It would be better if Antara settled down in Mumbai while summer vacations were still on and Mrinal didn’t have to go to the university, his mother had suggested.

Mrinal had been anxious initially. He had never imagined himself in an arranged marriage; that too with a girl he had never even spoken to earlier. And definitely not right after the woman he had loved left him without a care for their daughter. Should he make a move? But night after night she pretended as if going to sleep was the most natural thing to do after Mahi fell asleep and they had their dinner. Sometimes she would excuse herself for an hour or so before bed and spend that time in a spare bedroom. To chat with her friend who was in the US. Was she sparing herself, or him? Slowly he had stopped thinking about it.

There was a challenge to be solved though. He and Raksha had an active social life. And now suddenly he was with a new wife and an infant daughter from the previous one. How was this transition to be announced and explained in his social circle? He had avoided taking calls from his friends recently and had not responded to any e-mails either.

“Everything all right?” Antara came to him and asked.

Her was jerked out of his thoughts and looked up at her vacantly. He realized that she must have noticed him lost in thoughts. “Where is Mahi?” he asked in return.

“With Shyama. Is something bothering you?”

What was he to answer? A thousand times yes? A thousand things have been bothering him?

“Why did you agree to this marriage, Antara?” he asked and saw her colour visibly.

She averted her eyes as if not wanting him to see what they expressed. When she looked back at him and he could read nothing in those large eyes.

“I agreed because I wanted to. But do you have any complaint?”

“Complaint? Not against you, Antara.”

“Against whom, then?”

“Against whom? I don’t know. Against whom should I have a complaint that I don’t know what to do about everyone around me? How do I explain to my friends, my colleagues and everyone who knows me what has become of my life? How do I explain Raksha’s absence, Mahi’s presence and you to them?”

She coloured again and Mrinal realized that he had been too voluble and had almost declared her a problem for himself.  “I’m sorry,” he spoke guiltily, “It didn’t come out right at all…”

—

To be continued

Mrinal slumped on the bed as he read the short note.

“Mrinal,

I am sorry. But it was all a big, huge mistake. I am going away. Don’t look for me. Neither of us could be happy in this.

Raksha”

Mrinal looked at the baby’s crib lying close to the bed with vacant eyes. His ten-days old daughter Mahi was sleeping peacefully there; unaware of her mother’s little note. This was too wild even for Raksha! It was her idea. Having a baby. The most beautiful creation one can think of. Mrinal wasn’t sure. But if this was what it took to turn around their rocky marriage, he had agreed. Because despite everything, he continued to love her. He had prepared himself for responsibilities. But not for this! Not for the ten-day old mother running away.

Incredulous, he read the note again. It was a joke, wasn’t it? He fished out his phone from his pocket and dialed her number. It was switched off. Panic started to kick in. He took a deep breath; then dialed her parents’ number. Her father picked up the phone.

There was a tremor in his voice as he said hello. Mrinal’s heart sank.

“Uncle. Has Raksha called?” For some reason, even after all these years for marriage, he had continued to address her parents as Uncle and Auntie.

In reply he only heard a sigh from the other side.

“What happened? Is she there?” he asked cautiously.

“No. She isn’t. She sent us an SMS an hour ago though. I am still hoping it was a joke.”

“What… did she… write?”

“That she is leaving.”

Both of them stayed silent for a while. Mahi woke up and started crying.

“She has left Mahi behind?” Mrinal’s father-in-law asked

“Yes. I will call you later,” he needed to attend to his daughter. Or call her nanny.

“How will you… We are coming over,” he offered to help him with the infant; at least for immediate needs.

“No. No Uncle,” Mrinal objected, “Don’t come now. Actually…. My parents are due in another hour…”

“Hmm…”

His mother had been strictly against his and Raksha’s relationship. Raksha wasn’t a family woman. Not to mention not from the community. Having his parents and his in-laws under the same roof was nothing other than embarrassing for Mrinal. His mother did not even attempt at being civil. His father did not want to disturb the peace of his own domestic life and chose to remain silent. In such circumstances, there was only so much forbearance he could expect from Raksha’s parents. He had, thus, been keeping them apart all these years.

“Later, Uncle,” he disconnected the call and went to the crib. Mahi needed a change of diaper. He picked a fresh one up from the table and proceeded to change the diaper as he had learned to do from online videos. But what would he feed her now? Mother’s milk was no longer an option.

—

“Gone? She is gone? What do you even mean?” Mohini Agarwal was not going to make it easy for his son. She had wanted to come earlier to take care of her daughter-in-law and newborn granddaughter.  The idea of a grandchild had finally made her warm up to even her daughter-in-law. But she was stuck with an unavoidable wedding in the extended family.

“Mummy. Please freshen up and have lunch. It should be ready.”

“That is not an answer to my question. Where is she gone? How can she just be gone?”

“She is an adult – fully capable of going whenever and wherever she wants to go. Now! You are not helping me Mummy. I need to feed my daughter.”

“She has left you and her infant daughter?”

“Yes.”

“How can…”

“Stop Mohini,” Nishant Agarwal, her husband, intervened for a change.

“Stop? How can I…”

“It is difficult enough for him. Don’t make it more difficult. Give him time…”

“Give him time? To do what? If he had listened to me in the very beginning…. Hadn’t I said that this girl would do no good… Hippie that she was…”

“Mummy. If you have to shout, please go to your room and do it. You are scaring Mahi.”

“She damn better be scared! What are you feeding the ten-day old, anyway?”

“Formula.”

Mohini stomped her feet in anger. But she did leave the room to Mrinal’s temporary relief.

—

Mrinal had been adamant initially. Raksha would have gone back to work anyway. They had hired a nanny well in advance, much before Mahi was born. And there were other household staff to help as well. He can take care of his daughter by himself. But his mother had worn him down. He had argued that he at least needed to get a divorce, which would take time. But apparently in Kolkata they could manage everything. And when Raksha did call to confirm that she was fine and had indeed left of her own volition, and that she would like a divorce with mutual consent, Mrinal was not left with much to resist with.

“What does she want to do about Mahi?” Mohini had asked.

“She didn’t mention her. I don’t think she wants the custody.”

“Who has she gone with?”

“I don’t know,” Mrinal lied. He knew. It was an ex-student of his. A Ph. D. student. He hadn’t even tried to ask her to come back. She had crossed the limits. Whatever became of his life, he wasn’t going to ask her anything.

Summer vacations were going on. He didn’t have to go to the university. He had no alibi when his mother insisted that he should go to Kolkata with them. Mahi’s nanny accompanied them. But he was in for a shock when he realized that Mohini intended him to get married immediately.

“Even with mutual consent, divorce needs one year of separation and six months after that…” he had tried to reason.

“Both of you want the divorce, right? Leave the rest to us.”

Anything was possible with connections in this country. And definitely so in the city with their ancestral roots. They knew everyone. Everyone worth knowing, at least. Divorce came within two weeks. What all had to be fudged up for that to happen?

What had been more surprising was the speed with which she had managed to find a girl of her choice. “Here. See this photo. This is Antara. Gupta ji’s niece…”

Mrinal had just relieved Mahi’s nanny and was putting her to sleep. “Later Mummy…”

“You can’t keep doing this alone all your life,” her mother’s voice was unusually soft, “You won’t regret this. She isn’t like other girls…”

“Go ahead Mummy. I don’t have much to speak for my choices any longer,” his reply was sad, rather than bitter.

His father had a heart-to-heart with him the day before. “I know your mother is being hyper. But this time, I would say go with her, son. Mahi is young right now. She will whole-heartedly accept someone else as her mother. It won’t be the same if you waited a few years. And this is the time when you need maximum support.” The effect on him, however, was not of hope or enthusiasm, but rather that of resignation.

He looked at his daughter. She had fallen asleep. He put her in the crib and rushed to the bathroom. For the first time, he let himself go. He cried and sobbed – uncontrollably. Why Raksha, why? He had married a free-spirited woman. That was what he had liked about her. There were times when he had feared for their future. Her free-spiritedness did get too much at times. Especially when it manifested in unabashed flirtation with not just her friends, but his friends and colleagues too. And at least in one case with his student.

But she couldn’t have just gone away. Not like this. Not when she had decided that she wanted a family. Not after giving birth to their baby. She couldn’t have left him helpless like this. With an infant daughter to take care of! She didn’t even ask about her. Being free-spirited was not supposed to mean being insensitive, was it? But that is what it had gotten too. “How could you do that, Raksha?” he cried out aloud, “How could you?”

He was a broken man despite his best efforts to hold himself together.

—

To be continued