Mish' Fiction

Pronab turned out to be an unexpectedly pleasant visitor to Piyali. He was managing his aunt pretty well and kept any trouble out of Piyali’s father’s way. He had easy manners with which he could strike a conversation with anyone – from innocent children to hypochondriac adults. Bored as Piyali was with her joblessness, and vexed with Mukundo, she welcomed his presence in her house wholeheartedly. Even her Pishima was tolerable with him around.

Mukundo had just come in for the evening tea, when Pronab and his aunt came back from neighborhood visits.

“Who all did you visit, Pishima?” Mukundo asked her.

“Oh many people! So much changes between the visits. So many new daughter-in-laws, so many new babies, and so many daughters shipped off to their in-laws!”

“I also met someone I know from Delhi,” Pronab interjected.

“Really? Who?”

“Pratibha. Pratibha Mishra. She finished post-graduation from our university and will join as an assistant professor now. From student to colleague…”

“Ah! I dare say she made a very good student,” Mukundo said.

“I think so.”

“Well… She is nice. Might be a good Delhi student, but I am sure she doesn’t sing as well as our Pihu,” said her aunt.

“If your Pihu took her music half as seriously as Pratibha did, she would definitely sing much better than her, but she doesn’t,” Mukundo was not going to stop making a case for Pratibha.

“Mukundo is joking, of course, Didi,” Mr. Banerjee also joined the conversation, “He knows Pihu sings very well. He himself practices with her so often.”

“You don’t need to make an excuse for Mukundo Babu, Baba,” Piyali said dryly, “He speaks the truth. And I don’t even pretend to be as good as our city-educated Pratibh Di.”

“City education can make her English better, Piyali. We are talking about music. Delhi only has disadvantages as far as learning music is concerned.” Mukundo was relentless.

“That’s not quite right, Mukundo Babu,” Pronab objected, “Some of the best-known names in the world of classical music reside in Delhi or Mumbai. The opportunities are so much better for them…”

“People who have to make money from music reside there, Pronab. Those who treat it as a labor of love – as their saadhana – they are to be found in every nook and corner of Bengal. You don’t need to go to Kolkata. I can find you tens of them in Haldia who would beat your city-bred musicians any day.”

“Leave it Pronab Babu. Mukundo Babu doesn’t have any high opinion of me. And I can live with that. I don’t need everybody’s approval.”

“But you do sing very well, Piyali.”

“I’m sure that approval will be more than enough for our Queen of Haldia,” Mukundo was being almost cruel. Piyali couldn’t figure out why. He had taken a dislike to Pronab for some reason. But why was he projecting that on her too? If he had to marry Pratibha, he could do so… Did he really need to make her feel so inadequate?

“Well… I think we can give Mukundo liberty to see everything about Pratibha is the best possible light,” she was surprised to hear her Pishima. Didn’t this mean that she had heard the rumors too?

Piyali waited with bated breath to see how the conversation would unfold now.

“What do you mean?” Mukundo asked cautiously and it infuriated Piyali. She could not be patient any longer. Must he go on pretending?

“The entire world knows what she means, Mukundo Babu,” she replied instead of her Pishima.

“Arr… I most definitely don’t,” Pronab looked flabbergasted.

“Nor do I,” Mukundo said and looked straight into Piyali’s eyes.

“I can’t believe you are doing this to us, Mukundo Babu. If you want to marry Pratibha Di, you know we would all be happy for you. You don’t need to hide it, or justify it, or…”

“What?” Mukundo and Pronab cried out together.

“Damn these rumor-mongers,” Mukundo forgot the company he was in and swore openly, “I had thought I had quelled them. Piyali. I am not marrying Pratibha. I can’t believe you would think I was so sneaky.”

Mortification suddenly claimed her entire being. What had come upon her? Why did she have to speak? Why could she not hold her tongue? She averted her eyes and stared blankly at the floor.

“Ah well! It’s all out in open now,” Pishima tried to make light of the situation, but nobody smiled or laughed.

“What I am doing about Pratibha,” Mukundo continued to explain, “Is help Seema get her married. After Seema’s father’s death, you all know, that there are no men in the family who can do all the running around. There is a proposal from Kolkata, which they like very much. And it is to facilitate that that I am going to their house and to Kolkata so often.”

“Anyway,” he stood up and continued without letting silence prevail for long, “I am going to Kolkata tomorrow morning too. Piyali. Do you have anything for Saina?”

She shook her head, but immediately changed her mind. “Umm… yes. I will bring it to you outside.”

“Good.”

—

“I… I am sorry… Mukundo Babu. I don’t know what had come upon me…” Piyali rushed to apologize once they were outside. She had nothing for Saina.

“I will not lie, Piyali. I am really disappointed in you. For multiple reasons. But… I hope… I hope this is not you. Under whatever influence you have become this… I hope you get over it.”

She was unable to meet his eyes, and words refused to leave her throat.

“I might be gone for a while. I have some work in Mumbai. I might leave from Kolkata itself.”

She stood rooted to her place, her eyes glued to the floor. He ran his hand over her head once, and left abruptly.

When she went back to the house, oblivious to the storm that had just raged her life, her father was getting ready for his evening walk.

“Has Mukundo left?” he asked casually.

“Yes Baba,” she replied and listlessly walked to the backyard.

“Phew! That became intense,” she was startled by Pronab. She smiled weakly at him as he sat down beside her on the stairs. “Piyali. I think… I can understand… some of the emotional upheaval…” He began and then grew silent. When she neither discouraged nor encouraged him, he spoke again, “I wonder if I should… ask you… for help… in resolving my own dilemma…” His voice was so emotion-laden that Piyali feared he was going to propose to her or something. That wasn’t something she could deal with at the moment. So, she was thankful that Binoy barged in just then. “Pihu Baby. There is a courier for you.”

“Courier?” she was surprised.

“Courier? Must be something important. I won’t disturb you, then,” Pronab said and retreated. She did not stop him, grateful to be left alone.

The courier was from Saina.

—

To be continued

Piyali was frantic. Mrs. Thakur’s condition was deteriorating. The nurse on duty had called the doctor, but Mukundo was away in Kolkata. She had tried calling the numbers of his business associates, but could find him nowhere. He had either left their places, or had not yet come there. Finally she started calling even at the places she wasn’t expecting him to be there. He would visit Saina only the next day, but she called there anyway. He was there!

“You must come back immediately, Mukundo Babu,”she broke down on phone, “Kaki is unwell.”

He thought about Piyali more than his mother as he rode back to Haldia. For about three years after Mrs. Banerjee’s death, Mrs. Thakur had indeed played the role of a mother to Piyali. But for long time now, she had lost her bearings. Still, Piyali was attached to her. She spent time with her, read to her, even gave all the neighborhood news to her, none of which the old woman responded to. But Piyali was content to be there for her. Poor girl. Was it her lot to attend to sick parents all her life? How grieved she had sounded on phone! Mukundo knew that his mother’s health was deteriorating. And he was reconciled to the idea that she would die soon. To his mind, it would relieve her of her misery. But Piyali was definitely going to feel the loss.

She was going to finish her graduation this year. She would be twenty. She could ride his motorcycle like a pro. She loved going out. And yet – the only time she had stepped out of Haldia was a short trip they had taken to Kolkata to get the shots for flu.

Could he not give her a better and brighter life than she had?

—

“There she is. Where were you, Piyali?” Binoy had already brought tea for Mukundo and Mr. Banerjee, when Piyali walked in.

“I was at Seem Mashi’s. Pratibha Di has come from Delhi. She has finished her post-graduation and is to spend the holidays here.”

“Hmm… Yeah. I know. I had visited them before going to Kolkata.”

“You had?” she looked at him curiously, but he did not notice her expressions.

“Why don’t you ask Binoy to bring your tea as well.”

“Yeah. I will. First, I will change.”

She addressed him next when her father had left for his walk. “Mukundo Babu. Is it true what people say about you…”

“What people say about anyone is hardly ever true. But what do they say about me?”

“That you didn’t marry till now because of Kaki. Because any girl would have found it difficult to cope with her illness. But now that she is not there…”

“That’s absurd, Piyali. If a girl could not cope with my mother’s illness, that too the kind that hardly ever came in anyone’s way, what was the guarantee that she could cope with me. No. That is not the reason at all.”

“You are not averse to marrying, then?”

“No. I guess…”

“Why aren’t you married yet?”

“Umm… I could never remember all the dresses my girlfriends owned. So, it never proceeded to the extent where I could propose marriage,” he laughed.

“That can’t be true. You remember my dresses all right.”

“Yeah. I probably am more scared of you, than of any of my girlfriends.”

“You are not being serious,” she was annoyed.

“How can I be? You are being absurd in your questions. What’s wrong with you? You are getting bored. Get a job.”

“Who will give me a job?”

“I have offered you one.”

“I won’t work under you. You will…”

“What?”

“You will bully me…”

“Silly girl! By the way, I have some news for you. I haven’t told Kaku yet. I met your Pishima.”

“She is coming?”

“Yes. With a nephew of hers.”

“Pronab Babu?”

“You know him? I guess yes – that was the name she told me.”

“I know of him. She constantly talks about him. He is a professor or something in Delhi University.”

“Yeah. Assistant Professor, I presume. Recently appointed.”

“Wonder why would she bring him too?”

“Piyali!”

“What?”

“I know between your Baba and Pishima, life becomes difficult for you. But she is an old woman with no children of her own. You would be nice to her, won’t you?”

“You don’t trust me at all, do you? This isn’t the first time she is coming here.”

“On the contrary,” he said sincerely, “I trust you too much. Else I won’t be asking this of you.”

“You know how to sweet talk me into doing what you want me to do. I understand it. But I will take it.”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Since when did you start needing help is identifying what all is wrong with me…”

“Piyali…”

They were interrupted by Mr. Banerjee coming back from his walk.

“I must leave,” a cross Mukundo announced, “I have to meet Seema.”

Piyali was cross too. He could have as well said that he had to meet Pratibha. Rumors were rife ever since Pratibha had come. Many people had noticed that Mukundo was often seen at Seema’s place. Everybody knew that he was fond of Pratibha. And many people had all but decided that a matrimonial announcement was to be made anytime. “Now that his mother is not there, not only is he free, but also lonely,” they declared. Piyali had long gotten over her adolescent fantasies about him, but the idea of him marrying had left her distraught. He was still her best friend and companion. If he married… he won’t be dropping in on them whenever he wished. She won’t be able to hang around him as he read in his library. Now even Kaki was not there that she could go to his home on the pretext of visiting her.

And to top that, he didn’t think he should share his plans with her, or Baba. They didn’t matter even that much to him!

—

To be continued

Board exams were over. Mukundo had gone to Mumbai for some work. It was a two-week long trip and he would be returning the next day. Piyali was bored of wandering around in her home and his library. She decided to spend the afternoon with Saina, who would soon leave the town for Kolkata. Her father had been transferred. So, they won’t be going to school together any longer.

“Hello Piyali,” it was Saina’s father who opened the door for her.

“Hello Uncle. Is Saina not at home?”

“She has gone to Kolkata. She got a modeling assignment. Since she was getting bored sitting at home, she decided to pick it up.”

“How nice to have some work! I am also getting so bored.”

“Why don’t you pick up a summer job?”

“Who would give me a job here, Uncle? Fully qualified graduates hardly get a job.”

“Why! I can use your help. I have to wrap up so much paper work before leaving. It won’t be a formal job with my company. But in my personal capacity, I can have you as an assistant.”

“Really?”

“Why not?”

“That… that would be great.” She thought she’d surprise Mukundo with a gift for him with her first salary.

“Why don’t you report at my office tomorrow after 6 pm?”

“After office hours?”

“That’s when I finish my regular day job and work on wrapping up the paperwork.”

“Ah! I see. Sure Uncle.”

“By the way, how rude of me. What can I get for you? Some juice? Tea? Coffee?”

“Oh no! Nothing. Is Auntie not at home?”

“No. She and Sonal have gone to market.” Sonal was Saina’s younger brother.

“I will take your leave now, Uncle.”

“See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

—

“Dad! Mom wanted me to take the keys from you…” Saina barged into her father’s office, where Piyali was sitting and waiting for instructions to begin her work. “Piyali! What are you doing here?”

“Hi Saina. How did your assignment go?”

“It went fine. But what are you doing here? Dad?”

“She… she is just helping me… finish some work… some paper work, Saina.” Her father stuttering surprised Piyali. Why was he behaving like he was caught stealing?

“Yeah? Helping you?” Why was Saina so bitter? “Your own family is never enough for you, right?”

“Saina. Why are you…” Piyali tried to intervene.

“Leave Piyali. For your own sanity and ours, leave. Right now.”

Piyali looked at her father for support, but his eyes were downcast. This was more than she could take. She ran away from there in tears.

It was unfathomable. Saina had a job. Must have made thousands of rupees with her modeling. Why would she grudge her a small job that would barely make her enough to buy a gift for Mukundo Babu? Piyali hated her with all her might.

—

“Excuse me, Saina,” Mukundo found her in the market and called out, “How are you?”

“I’m fine, Mukundo Babu. How are you?” she bore her awkwardness rather well, Mukundo observed.

“Have you got some time? I wanted to talk to you.”

She was surprised, but nodded. They went to a coffee shop at Mukundo’s suggestion and took a table in a secluded corner.

“So, all packed up for leaving?” Mukundo started the conversation with small talk.

“Yeah. Almost.”

“But why leave with broken relationships?”

She stared down at the table as she spoke, “Piyali is super mad at me, isn’t she?”

“Well, she is. But I have a feeling that she is so for wrong reasons. You didn’t grudge her a little job.”

“Why do you think so?” she smiled sadly.

“I… might be… going totally wild here… Saina. And if that is so, I apologize in advance. You stop me and we will end the conversation right there. But you sound mature for your age. And that often happens when you have faced more in life than you should… You father has not been an ideal father… Am I right? And if I am, the first thing I must ask is if you need help.”

She laughed. A brave, but sad laugh. “I envy her, Mukundo Babu. She is so lucky to have you. But no. I don’t need any help now. I put a stop to it when I was twelve. And I have been able to keep my brother from harm’s way.”

“But is that enough? Shouldn’t he be…”

“No. My mother is a simple woman, and she knows nothing of it. She needn’t. Besides, this isn’t a TV serial with a bunch of kindly cops by our side to help us out. If he goes behind bars, who will provide for our family? I have thought it all through. It will remain as it is.”

“Hmm… Obviously you know what you are doing and I appreciate how strong you are. But won’t you mend things with your friend before leaving?”

“I would like to… But… you figured it out. I don’t want anyone to know. Including her.”

“She doesn’t need to know about what you faced, Saina. But she can know what danger she was in. That won’t be bad for her to know…”

“I’ll try.”

“Thanks a lot! And if you do need help at any point of time, you can reach out. Kolkata is not that far…”

“Thanks,” she smiled gratefully.

—

“I hate to admit it, Mukundo Babu. But you were right about Saina. She wasn’t exactly envious about my job.”

“What was it then?”

“Something else. Leave it. But how on earth could you know? You don’t even like her. And still, you defended her?”

“Since you have conceded where you were wrong, I must concede too. I think I was too biased against her. Probably just because she wore fashionable clothes. She is a fine girl.”

“Why this change of heart?”

“Just observing. For almost a year now…”

“Hmm… I hope I can keep in touch with her.”

“Kolkata is not that far away.”

“I am not going there every week. But you could be our messenger.”

“Gladly!”

“She has promised to send me some fashionable clothes, if you would carry them,” she grinned.

He rolled his eyes at her, and they broke into a friendly laughter.

—

To be continued

She placed both her gifts on the bed and stared at them alternatively. He got her a book about Kolkata. He arranged for them to take a trip to Kolkata, despite her father! He wanted her to wear that skirt. And he got her a pair of boots that would look good with it! Her shoes had not vanished in thin air. He had taken it with him, so that he could buy her boots in the right size!

She didn’t know if she wanted to kill Saina or hug her. She was the one who had first made her see him in that light. “Mukundo Babu. Eh? He is hot!” she had remarked.

“Hot?”

“Hot!”

“Come on, Saina. You can’t talk like that about Mukundo Babu.”

“Why not? He is not your brother. And even if he were your brother, he wouldn’t be mine,” she had giggled.

“He is not my brother, of course!”

“That makes things easier.”

Saina hadn’t mentioned it after that. But the conversation had sent her mind in an overdrive. She had started looking at him in a way that had never occurred to her before. As a man. As a handsome and attractive man. As a desirable man. She fantasized when she went to bed. She could hardly concentrate on her studies and imagined unspeakable things.

What he did today was not going to help her hopeless case!

—

She was enjoying everything about the city. Even the things Mukundo found annoying – the crowd, the heat, the traffic and the noise. She had gone berserk in the malls and showrooms. “So many designs at one place, Mukundo Babu. How does one even choose?”

She sat down exhausted in the lawns of Victoria Memorial and gazed at the colonial building. “I’m so happy today, Mukundo Babu. I can’t thank you enough,” her voice was thick with emotions, and her eyes dreamy, “I wish I could do something for you in return.”

“That you can do,” he smiled at her.

“How?” she fixed her eyes expectantly on him.

“Piyali…” he waited for a moment to collect his thoughts and words. She was no longer a child. Confronting her was not a good idea. He had to respect her feelings and thoughts, even if they were immature, if he was to get his point across to her. “It’s not that I think ill of your new friend. I know you enjoy her company. And that’s a great thing. To have a friend you really like. But you must understand that her goals in life and yours are different. You aren’t exactly planning on becoming a model, are you?”

“A model,” she laughed diffidently, “No way. I don’t fancy myself that beautiful.”

She was modest in that regard. She was extremely beautiful. But that was not the point he had to make just then. “Then you must focus on studies. Much more than she does. This is a crucial year for you. You are writing your board exams.”

Piyali could almost feel her fragile, teenage heart breaking into pieces. He might not be her brother. But he treated her as nothing other than a younger sister, a ward, who needed to be taken care of. Her studies! Yes – that was all he had in mind. That was why he was humoring her. Letting her wear the skirt. Buying her boots. Even bringing her to Kolkata. So that he could persuade her to study.

What else was she expecting? Of course she was being stupid to expect… And he wasn’t wrong anyway. She had been far too distracted recently.

“You are right. I am sorry. I promise that I will study well from now on. But you must know that just because Saina wears fashionable clothes, she isn’t a bad girl. My distraction had nothing to do with her.”

“Then?”

“Nothing I can’t deal with,” she replied.

“If there is something serious, I should know, Piyali.”

“Nothing serious. In fact, I am over it already. I won’t let you complain again.”

She looked so mature and determined as she spoke that Mukundo could not insist on her sharing her issue with him.

He sometimes felt frustrated that she was a girl. It made things so difficult for him. Taking care of a boy would have been so much easier. Or if she, at least, had a female guardian, there were things he could have ignored. But… She must have been about twelve at that time. For the first time, he was in a serious relationship, which had become intimate enough for him to talk about women’s issues like mensuration with his girlfriend. She had told him how some girls were caught unawares the first time they bled because nobody had told them. It could get quite embarrassing. The first thought he had had was of Piyali. She was twelve, and would soon have… Did she know? Who would have told her? If her father had thought even a bit and hired a female servant at least… Probably he should hire one in his house and use her to communicate with Piyali on such issues.

But at that point of time, he needed to ensure that she knew. So, he had made her sit at some distance from him in his library so that she felt safe and had started speaking.

“Piyali. This will be an unusual conversation. But I want you to not feel… unsafe… or guilty… You must trust me.”

“What is it?” she had clearly been alarmed.

“No. No. Nothing to be scared of. Just don’t feel… awkward. If you feel uncomfortable, walk out from here and we’d assume this conversation never happened.”

That had hardly been more assuring, but she had nodded and stayed put.

“Piyali. You… are growing up. On the verge of becoming a young woman… And there are changes… In your body – I am sure you are noticing them… They are nothing to be anxious about. They are natural. But in some things, some preparation… is required… For example… Do you know… about… menses?”

Her mouth had opened into an “O”, which she had immediately closed. Then hesitatingly, she had nodded.

He had felt partly foolish, and partly relieved. Probably he shouldn’t have brought this up. Probably they had a way of knowing…

“That’s great, then,” he had chuckled nervously, “Makes things easy. Run off now…”

She had stood up and retreated. But before he had as much as drawn an easy breath, she was back.

“Actually…” she had gulped hard, “I don’t know… My friends were talking at school and they mentioned it… I acted like I knew because I didn’t want to appear stupid… But… I don’t know…”

“Ah! Oh! Right… I see… Why don’t you sit back… No wait…” Since he had believed, even if for a short time, that he need not have this conversation, he was now finding it difficult to pick the thread again. “What I will do,” he thought quickly and suggested, “Is get you a book, or some other written material about it. You can keep it for reference. Is that fine?”

She had nodded and had turned on her heels immediately.

He had found a book explaining sexual changes in body for teenagers. It also had good information about sex, and warnings related to it. He had given her the book a few days later. He was prepared again while doing this. So, he had told her calmly and confidently, “If there is something you need to ask, you must come to me, okay?”

She had nodded. She had never come back to him and they had pretended that nothing of that sort had been discussed between them. He assumed she was doing fine.

Presently he looked at her face, her eyes still riveted to the gorgeous building, and allowed himself a faint smile. He almost felt proud, he couldn’t figure why.

—

To be continued

He remembered almost all of her dresses. He could have and had given her so many suggestions. If he remembered as much about the dresses of any of his girlfriends, he would have been married much earlier. He chuckled and then looked around to ensure that nobody had seen him sitting alone and laughing for no apparent reason. Thankfully there weren’t many people in the coffee shop. Nobody disturbed him and he was left to contemplate.

She had looked gorgeous in that skirt. Her long, athletic legs – smooth and… Wait! Had she started waxing them? Since when? She usually wore jeans and it wasn’t possible to know. The day he had washed her knee-wound… No. It was certainly not waxed then. Did she do it only for wearing this dress? He was too harsh on her. Whether or not she should have worn it, it did look so good on her shapely figure. A pair of boots would have made it even better. But…

All said and done, he concluded finally, he wasn’t her guardian. He really had no right to impose on her like that.

—

“Will you continue to be in a foul mood forever?” he asked on their way home.

“I am just tired. Why should I be in a foul mood?”

“Because I made you change your dress?”

“You are as much of a hypocrite as any other man. Everyone likes to gawk at scantily-clad women in magazines and movies and even on roads. But God forbid, if someone they know should wear a slightly short skirt!”

“Piyali!”

“I apologize. You are the elder and the wiser one. But Maths journals are not the only sort of magazines in your library either.”

He took a deep breath before speaking. “I admit. I have been a hypocrite. And in more ways than you claim. Yes – not only do I apply different standards to you and to others, but also to you here in Haldia and to you – if you were elsewhere. If we were in New York, or London, or Mumbai, or even in Kolkata, I wouldn’t have batted an eyelid at what you wear. But we are in Haldia. It is a small town with its conservative manners. That you can wear jeans without attracting attention is the limit of this town’s modernity tolerance. When you go to a city, you wear whatever people there wear.”

She chortled, “As if I am going to travel to New York and London! Baba won’t let me go even to Kolkata.”

She wasn’t looking at him. So, he used the opportunity to have a good look at her face. She had a lovely face. And a hyperactive teen-age brain. And a healthy body that loved outdoors. She loved his motorcycle! An idea suddenly struck him that was sure to better her mood.

“My motorcycle is back form servicing.”

“Did it cost you a lot?” she looked at him with anxious eyes.

“A bit. But it is as good as new now.”

“Good. You would enjoy riding it,” she smiled weakly, clearly conscience-struck that the bike was as good as destroyed because of her.

“You would enjoy learning it too, I think.”

“Me?”

“Who else? You are the only one who has to learn. I already  know how to ride a bike.”

“Don’t tease me, Mukundo Babu. I had smashed the bike. I know you wouldn’t let me even touch it again.”

“Someone is scared.”

“I am not scared!”

“Of course, you are. Making excuses for why you wouldn’t learn. Putting words in my mouth.”

“Oh, shut up!”

He grinned. “Friends then? Tomorrow evening your bike riding classes begin.”

She grinned back, happy beyond words.

—

“I can’t believe this, Mukundo Babu. I was looking for this shoe the entire day today. It had just vanished into thin air. And now suddenly, it is there, just where it should have been!”

“You can’t do anything straight, unless you have had a lecture from me. You have missed it for past two days, haven’t you?”

“Arghh… Must you always talk like that to me?”

He laughed and handed her a gift-wrapped package. “There is something for you. From Kolkata.”

She unwrapped it hastily and found a coffee-table book about Kolkata. “The photographs are beautiful.”

“I thought you may like it. Where is Kaku? I have some news for him.”

“What news? Pishima is not thinking of coming, is she?” she frowned. The arrival of her father’s sister wrecked havoc on his nerves.  She could never be careful enough about hygiene and health for his comfort.

“No. I didn’t run into them in Kolkata. It is something else. Is he in the hall?”

“Yes,” Piyali confirmed and followed him to the hall, the curiosity about the news getting the better of her than the excitement about the book.

‘Has he gone mad?’ she found herself thinking as she heard Mukundo delivering the news. There was a news doing round about certain flu virus that had come to India from South America. It was quite deadly and regular medicines didn’t work on those who were struck with it. Haldia being a port town was particularly vulnerable. Injections were available for protection, but they would have to go to Kolkata to get the shots. Piyali was getting furious by the moment. What did Mukundo Babu mean by sharing this with her father? He knew very well the effect it would have on him. Piyali knew about this, and had removed the health supplement from last week’s newspaper to keep her father from reading about it. And you couldn’t even get the shots here. Going to Kolkata!! How will she manage to calm her father down after this?

“We must go then?” she heard her father saying.

“Yes Kaku. And this Saturday itself. You don’t have to worry about anything. I have a serviced apartment there, which I use every time I travel. Very clean and hygienic. And I know people in the hospital who would give the shot. There would be no problem at all.”

“Travel is not a good business ever… But we can’t take risk, can we?”

“Not at all. And I will be driving myself, Kaku. We have seat belts and air bags in the car. It will not be risky.”

“If we have to, we have to…”

Piyali’s eyes bulged out in surprise. They were going to Kolkata!! Mukundo looked at her and winked.

“Come with me. There is something else for you in the car.”

“You have come here in the car?” Mukundo would usually just walk, or at best ride his bike to her home.

“I have come directly from Kolkata,” he replied.

She was puzzled to see the boots he had brought her. “These are for… me?”

“Yep. They would look very good with your skirt, which you will wear to our Kolkata trip.”

She gawked at him in disbelief and he burst into laughter. “Silly girl,” he said ruffling her hair and drove off, while her stupefied gaze followed him.

—

To be continued

What had surprised him most was how she understood his pain. Most people, including his friends, thought that he should be happy to inherit a business that was doing well and hence gave him a financially comfortable life. But she knew better. “You can find someone to run this business for you in few years and then go for your studies, can’t you Mukundo Babu?” she had asked, looking hopeful.

“No Piyali. It would be too late. Maths is… a young man’s game. I would be too old and weary in few years.”

“That’s not true,” she had frowned innocently, “All our Maths teachers are old. Much older than you would be in few years.”

“I can teach you Maths till well into my old age, Piyali. But Maths research… Forget it. Have you finished your homework?”

“Not yet.”

“Do it then.”

“I will do it later.”

“No. You will leave it and then we will have another complaint in your school diary.”

“It’s the same thing again, Mukundo Babu…”

“And if you don’t practice those problems, you won’t remember them for the exams. Come now…”

“I hate you, Mukundo Babu.”

“Sure. You do.”

She was a bright child. But Mukundo worried for her because of lack of guardianship from early age. Despite Mukundo’s informal supervision of her studies and well-being, as well as of their property and financial affairs, on a day to day basis, she was the mistress of the house. With her father behaving more like a child than her, that was inevitable. And it was building an arrogance and overconfidence in her that could do her harm. She mistook her intelligence for her wisdom.

“You must study well, Piyali. You have to get a good job and make a good career.”

“Hmm…”

“I am serious.”

“I will marry somebody rich,” she said to just to rile him up.

“Nobody wants to marry a girl these days, who isn’t working.”

“You are talking about yourself. You are miserly enough to grudge having to support your wife.”

“I would certainly not marry a girl who does nothing but sits around in the house demanding jewelry and wasting time with parties.”

“You would marry no one, I am sure of that. But don’t worry. I won’t marry either. I was only joking. I am smart enough to earn my livelihood.”

“Smart enough to earn. Not wise enough to choose right,” he mumbled under his breath, but she either hadn’t heard him, or had chosen to ignore it.

What he was worried about was her being increasing thick with the new girl in town – Saina. The city girl, whose professed career goal was to become a model and an actress. Piyali’s association with her was reflecting in all sorts of disturbing ways. Her already distracted nature was even more distracted from her studies. She would sometimes cut her music practice short to go shopping with Saina. Her walk back from school had decidedly gotten longer and at least once or twice he had spotted the two of them in their school uniforms in the market. Given that it was crucial year, when she would be writing her board exams, Mukundo was particularly uneasy.

“There is Mukundo,” Mr. Banerjee looked relieved to see him as he entered for his evening tea as usual, “Can’t he drop you?”

“Come on, Baba. Doesn’t he have anything else to do other than chauffeuring me around?” Piyali sounded annoyed, quite unlike herself.

“What’s going on?”

It turned out that driver hadn’t come that day and Piyali had to go to a friend’s place for a party. She was insisting upon riding her cycle for the purpose and that was unacceptable to Mr. Banerjee. “It would be dark by the time she comes back. What if she doesn’t notice a pothole or something? She can fall and hurt herself.”

Anybody else in his place would worry more about what if she met some rogues on the streets after dark, but Mr. Banerjee’s thoughts were completely occupied by people’s physical safety from diseases and accidents than anything else. Mukundo suppressed a smile and offered to drop her and pick her up back once the party was over.

“Where do you have to go?” he asked finally.

“But Mukundo Babu. You don’t have to…”

He pulled her aside and spoke in a hushed tone, “What is the point of getting Kaku upset? Do you have any problem in going with me?”

She just pursed her lips in response and did not say anything. Mukundo found her behavior odd, but could not figure out a reason behind it.

“When do you have to go?”

“We have time for tea.”

“All right. Get ready after that.”

Mr. Banerjee left for his walk after tea, while Piyali went to her room to change.

His eyes bulged on seeing her come out of the room wearing a short skirt ending just above her knees. He shook his head, when he found his bearings back.

“What on earth are you wearing?”

“What’s wrong? It’s a pretty dress.”

“Since when did you start wearing this stuff? Go change it and wear something less ridiculous.”

“Mukundo Babu!”

“Go. Now!”

She turned on her heels to obey him, even as her eyes brimmed over.

He felt guilty when she came out next. She had worn one of her usual jeans and t-shirts. She had gone too plain for a party.

He tried to make amends. “Why don’t you wear that pink dress you had bought for your birthday?”

“It had gone for dry cleaning,” she said dryly.

“What about that purple top…”

“I am already too late. If we are not leaving immediately, I might as well drop the idea of going there.”

He sighed. He had hurt her. He decided to leave the reconciliation for later. He himself needed to think through his reaction. Did he have to react so harshly?

“You are going to Saina’s house?” he tried to sound casual, when she told her where she had to be dropped.

“If you think I shouldn’t, you can turn around right away.”

“Piyali… I’m not…” he didn’t complete his sentence as he found her deliberately turning her head to look out of the window. ‘Take a deep breath, and think about it later,’ he told himself.

“I will wait at the club. Call up at their coffee shop, when you are done and I will be here in fifteen minutes.”

She nodded and went in.

—

To be continued

She continued crying even after she was seated on the ground and it was ascertained that neither of them were hurt. He assumed that she was shocked and afraid. “It’s okay, Piyali. Calm down. You are all right. Safe…”

“You… your…”

“I am fine too. See. Not a scratch. I was careful, when I pulled you off.”

“I mean… your motorcycle…” she managed to speak through her sobs.

“Motorcycle? Oh!” he had completely forgotten the fate of his beloved vehicle. His heart sank for a moment when he saw its pitiable condition. Its engine was still running, but Mukundo wasn’t sure it could carry them back.

“I’m so… so… sorry, Mukundo Babu. I just blacked out. I couldn’t… Oh God! You are angry… You won’t talk to me…”

She had guessed it right. If it were anybody other than her who was responsible for that condition of his bike, Mukundo Thakur wouldn’t have talked to the person for rest of their lives, and done much worse than that, but… The one time he had acted on his threat of not talking to her, when she had eaten ice cream before her music exam despite him warning her against it, she had been so miserable that it had come to her father’s attention and he had had to intervene, with his frail nerves and all! Mukundo had vowed never to do that with her again, irrespective of how much she tested his patience. And this time he was feeling as guilty as she was.

“Calm down, Piyali. It is a bike, a machine. It can be fixed. What is important is you are safe. I have myself pulled a stint for which I shouldn’t talk to myself… Pulling you off a running bike like that. But… I couldn’t think of anything else. Come, Piyali. Let’s go home. Oh wait… How will we go… I will call the driver… He will bring the car…”

“The motorcycle?”

“It will have to go to Kolkata for servicing. I will find the number of the service center. Hope they can pick it up today itself.”

“Kolkata?”

“Yes. I can’t give it here. To people servicing Bajaj’s and scooties! Can’t imagine what they would do to this Harley Davidson…”

“I’m sorry, Mukundo Babu.”

“Stop saying that.”

“Not a word to Baba,” she reminded him as they got down at her home.

“Not a word…”

“I wish he wasn’t so nervous about everything… I wish I knew how to reassure him…” she started saying, but her voice trailed away.

“Piyali!” his voice was thick with emotions, “You are a good daughter. Nobody could do more for him than you do.”

—

“Your Maths journals, and sadness again!” her voice broke Mukundo’s reverie. He was in his library.

He smiled at her, “Not sadness, Piyali. Thoughtfulness. I like poring over them, and thinking them through.”

“Don’t they remind you of lost dreams?” She sauntered in and made herself comfortable in a chair opposite him.

“They are the closest I can be to my dreams.”

“Hmm… There are some books in your library that I have noticed… Can I borrow them?”

“Books? You? Wow! Of course, you can borrow them. You can steal them if you want. If there are books you want to read… Which ones?”

“I read enough of Sharat Chandra and Robi Thakur to Kaki,” she said, “So not those.” Mukundo smiled. Piyali spent several hours on weekends with his mother, who never talked, but clearly loved being read to.

She ambled through the aisles and was back with two books in no time. “These for the time being.” She must have marked them out for reading earlier. They were travelogues. Closest she could be to her dreams. Of travelling far and wide. She didn’t voice it often. For the fear of upsetting her father. But he knew.

“Kolkata Book Fair is round the corner. I will get you more such books from there.”

“That’d be great. Are you coming home? It’s tea time almost.”

“Yeah.”

Unless something pressing came up, Mukundo always had his evening tea with Piyali and her father. Then he stayed on for couple of hours. Sometimes practicing music with Piyali, sometimes helping her with her homework, and sometimes just engaging Mr. Banerjee in a conversation so that she could have time for herself.

Once a month, he went to Kolkata. He met up with his friends at the university, got the latest copies of Maths journals from them, bought some gifts for Piyali, any medicines for his mother and her father, which were not available in Haldia, and books for his library.

Studying Maths had been his dream. And initially there hadn’t appeared any difficulties in pursuing it. His father’s business in the port town of Haldia was prospering. He fully supported his son when he didn’t want to join business, instead pursue academics. After finishing his undergraduation, Mukundo was trying to decide where to go for his Masters and Ph. D. He had to choose between ISI Kolkata and couple of offers from American universities. But the disaster struck before he could make his decision. His father died in an accident. Mr. Thakur had the long term plan to put in place a professional management in his business. But no work had yet started in that direction. He was expecting to have many years to achieve the goal, which were snatched away suddenly by a stroke of fate. His death had another disastrous consequence. Mukundo’s mother never got over the shock and became withdrawn. She would neither speak, nor laugh, nor cry. She would also not step out of the house even to see the doctor.

These circumstances meant that Mukundo could not leave the town. He also had to take over the business he had never intended to involve himself with. Depression would have washed over him, but for one person in his life. Nine-year-old Piyali.

She had been more unfortunate than even him with the life and health of her parents. Her mother had died when she was six. Her death was a result of a road accident followed by internal injury and infection that went undiagnosed. Mr. Banerjee had been a nervous sort of man even before that. But this accident had spun his hypochondria and fear of traveling out of control. It had created a situation where instead of him parenting Piyali, she had to adopt that role at a very tender age. Thankfully, as their neighbor and family friends, Mukundo and his parents had stepped in to take care of the child and also help her cope with her father’s condition. But in the aftermath of his own father’s death, which left even his mother incapable of shouldering any parenting responsibilities, Mukundo had become Piyali’s de-facto guardian. This was the only responsibility that he did not grudge. The young girl had been his friend anyway and having her around pleased and calmed him like nothing else.

—

To be continued

“What the hell, Piyali? Who had asked you to learn cycling? You have a driver and a car at your beck and call. Why do you need to hurt yourself like this?” Mukundo was furious with her as he helped her get up.

“I am already hurt and crying,” she complained through her tears, “Don’t scold me and make my cry more.”

“Right… Thankfully I have brought my car. Come, I will take you home.”

“The bicycle…”

“I will leave it at Girdhar’s and have it picked up later. Come now… There should be a band aid in the car’s first aid kit… You are incorrigible…”

“Mukundo Babu!!”

“All right, all right. Let’s go…”

Piyali lifted her jeans up to her knee with some difficulty. Mukundo winced at her scraped knee.

“You need to be grounded,” he mumbled angrily.

“It’s not that bad…”

“You would know the day you catch tetanus or something,” he warned as he washed the wound with water kept in his car. Then he put a band aid.

“Ouch!” Her knees hurt as she tried to walk into her house.

“Let me help you,” he rushed to support her.

“No. Baba must not know that I am hurt. He would be beside himself…”

Mukundo smiled fondly at her. She was worried not for herself here, he knew. She wouldn’t mind some scolding coming her way. But her hypochondriac father will be so distressed that he will keep the entire household on its toes, and make himself most miserable of all.

But she winced as she took another step and the old servant Binoy happened to come to the doorway just then.

“Oh my God! Pihu baby, what has happened?”

“She’s just a little hurt, Binoy…”

“Hurt? How? Cycling again? With those rowdy kids?”

“Hush…”

But it was too late. Mr. Debendra Banerjee had already heard the commotion was there. “What happened? How are you hurt? Should we take you to a doctor?

“It’s nothing, Baba…”

“How do you know it’s nothing until the doctor has seen you. You are delicate, Shona. We must not take any chances…”

“I have put a band aid, Kaku. She fell from the bicycle and scraped her knees a little, that’s it…”

“Bicycle? Why on earth were you riding a bicycle? Where is the driver…”

“I was learning, Baba!”

“Nonsesne. There is no need to learn if you hurt yourself…”

“That won’t do, Kaku,” Mukundo surprised Piyali by his intervention on this, “She must learn. She can’t remain a baby all her life. And everyone falls once in a while.” Hadn’t he voiced exactly the same objection himself? Now he was defending her before her father? Well… That was just like Mukundo Babu, the fifteen-year old barely suppressed a mischievous smile. But her father still needed to be diverted. He was still arguing with Mukundo. If there was one thing that consumed him more than the concern for Piyali’s health, it was his own health.

“Baba. Isn’t it time for your tea and evening walk? Binoy Da. Please drop everything else and bring us tea. And also his walking-stick. He must not walk without the stick. It puts too much pressure on his ankles, which was sprained so badly just last year…”

And before anyone had any opportunity of referring her hurt knee again, Mr.  Banerjee was fed his tea and was on his way towards the park with his walking-stick.

“So, you will never spare a chance to scold me, even when you think what I did was not wrong?”

“What I think is that you shouldn’t try to learn with those still-in-nappy kids, who can barely hold themselves straight, let alone help you with a tripping bicycle.”

“They are my friends and none of the are in nappies, for God’s sake. And didn’t you yourself say that everyone falls once in a while?”

“If they have a bad teacher.”

“I am doing with whatever teachers I can manage. Who else will teach me otherwise? Binoy Da himself doesn’t know how to ride a cycle. Baba doesn’t have the heart to teach me. And you do not have the time or patience.”

“It is unlikely that others will be able to overcome their handicap. So, I guess I must overcome mine.”

“You… will… teach… me?” she asked cautiously.

“What option do I have?”

“Hmm…”

“What?”

“You aren’t as bad-tempered and grumpy as you appear sometimes. I think people are right. You need to get married,” she grinned at him.

“Get married? What does that have to do with anything?”

“If you don’t get married, people say, you would grow into a grumpy, lonely old man. Of course nobody thinks you are that right now. But I can see the signs already.”

“You can? I must grab the next woman I can find, and marry her then?”

“But you probably shouldn’t marry after all.”

“Why this change of mind?”

“If you got married, you won’t have much time for us – me and Baba.”

“What a selfish girl you are, Piyali.”

She looked up at him startled, but saw only amusement in his eyes. So, she grinned in response.

“And what will happen when you are married and gone off? What will I do for company?”

“I am not going to get married. How lonely Shalu Di’s Baba is since she got married. He misses her so much. I can’t leave Baba like that.”

“She knew that. But she got married anyway.”

“She was the sort who should get married. She’d be unhappy otherwise.”

“And you won’t be?”

“Absolutely not.”

“We’ll see.”

“Whenever you have believed me!” she pouted and Mukundo playfully ruffled her hair.

—

“I must also learn how to ride a motorcycle.”

“Motorcycle? You are not old enough to have a license. And what do you need to ride a motorcycle for?”

“Whatever you need to ride a motorcycle for. And I must learn now so that when I am old enough to get a license, I can get one quickly.”

“Piyali. Bicycle is enough. And you can get a scooter if you must…”

“Motorcycle! Your motorcycle!” she put her foot down.

He managed to teach her how to ride a cycle and did not let her get hurt again as he had promised. Motorcycle would pose more problems though. The clutch and gear were more than she could handle. And she wasn’t even patient with it. If she could have her way, she would have driven on the highway on her very first day.  But as it happened, she got confused the first time she tried to drive on her own in an open field.

“Piyali… Clutch and brake. Clutch and brake…” Mukundo shouted, but she was nonplussed and could not act on his advice. He would not recall later what possessed him and how he pulled off the stunt he did, but he ran to her and pulled her off the motorcycle. Both of them fell, but she fell on top of him and was safely cushioned from any impact against the ground.

—

To be continued