Mish' Fiction

“I will also have coffee,” Sumedha declared excitedly. Mukundo and Piyali had spoken to Debangi. After initial shock and hesitation, she had been on cloud nine. She had sent them out while she prepared an elaborate dinner for them. She refused to let even Piyali help. “He would want to see Darjeeling, right? You take him around. And the child too. The hostels are so suffocating and restrictive.” So, they were spending the afternoon in the city and had walked into a coffee shop.

“Since when did you start drinking coffee?” Mukundo frowned.

“Since you sent me to the hostel and made me eat this horrible mess food,” she replied with mock insolence and pouted.

He looked at his daughter with a mixture of regret and fondness. She was sitting across him, next to Piyali. Piyali patted her head and said, “Don’t worry. No more mess food for you now. You will make me her official guardian, won’t you, Mukundo Babu? She will live with me and be a day scholar.”

“But… Won’t we all just go back to Kolkata?”

“Not until she finishes +2. This isn’t the time to change schools. We will practise together in the morning, right Sumedha? You can also shift here and join us, if you want to,” she gave him a challenging look.

“All right,” he threw up his hands, “I am at the mercy of you two. Whatever you decide.”

The waiter came and he ordered cappuccinos for all of them.

“And French Fries,” Sumedha added and Mukundo nodded.

Sumedha choked on the first sip of coffee.

“What happened?” Piyali asked, alarmed.

“This is so… bitter.”

“Strong,” Piyali and Mukundo said in chorus and then broke into laughter when they looked at each other.

“What happened?” Sumedha was puzzled.

“Nothing. Let’s get you some extra milk,” Piyali replied and called the waiter, barely able to suppress her grin.

“Yeah. The coffee in the canteen is much milkier.”

Piyali and Mukundo looked at each other again, amused at old recollections.

The bill was to be paid at the counter. Mukundo asked them to wait while he made the payment.

“It was some private joke, wasn’t it, Miss?” Sumedha asked Piyali, when they were alone.

“What?”

“Strong coffee?”

Piyali smiled nervously.

“It’s so good to see him like this,” Sumedha continued, “I had given up all hope. You have no idea how much I have missed him. And practising with him.”

Piyali’s eyes grew moist. “I know, Sumedha. I know exactly how you felt.” She held her hands, “I had lost my father when I was your age. Be happy. You have your father back.”

“Yes,” she smiled, “Thanks to you, Miss.”

She caressed her cheek and said, “You can call me, Piyali.”

“Or…” she hesitated, “I know you are not that old, but may be… Ma?”

Piyali was too surprised to react for a moment. Then an overwhelming feeling engulfed her. She pulled Sumedha towards her and pressed her to her bosom. She had reconciled herself to the idea of not experiencing motherhood long back. But here was her chance. She kissed her head.

When she let her go, she realized that Mukundo was standing behind them and had heard them. He bent down and planted a kiss on each of their heads. “I know I have been weak, and inadequate, all these years. I have hurt you both a lot. But I promise that I will make up for it. Your happiness is the only thing I will live and die for from now on.”

“That’s enough, Mukundo Babu,” Piyali looked up at him with her moist, but smiling eyes, “The last thing I want anyone to live with in my family is guilt. Promise me, you won’t think about the past.”

“I promise.” All three of them smiled joyfully.

– The End –

Piyali was done with her classes. She led Mukundo to her favourite hideout – the spinney.

“Why did it fall apart, Mukundo Babu?” she asked on their way, “Did your wife find out… about us?”

“Probably.”

“Probably?”

“Even if she did, it wasn’t her problem.”

“Huh?”

“Because according to her promiscuity was a given with the artists. ‘I don’t care who you sleep with,’ she had said.”

Piyali looked uncertain on how to react to that.

“Do you also think so?” he asked, “That because I am an artist, I go around sleeping with women.”

“No,” she said, “The way you beat yourself up over one, I can’t imagine you would survive sleeping with many women.”

He smiled sadly. “Apparently she had grown up seeing her father’s rather colourful love life. She doesn’t see him with the same lens as I do. Had I been blind with my respect for my guru?”

“That’s possible, right? She was his daughter. She would know more.”

“Hmm…”

“And probably Pandit ji knew that you weren’t like him. And that’s why he had wanted his daughter to be married to you – to a good man. Carrying the legacy was just… an alibi?”

“Hmm… Why couldn’t you learn from Pandit ji, Piyali? What was the problem?”

She gulped, “I… I don’t know.”

“Was it the money? Because he won’t take a student for lower or no fee?”

“Why are you asking that?”

“I just want to know.”

“I don’t know for sure. But that might be the case. When Gayatri Ma had mentioned me going to you, I was hesitant. I told her, I couldn’t afford the fees. She had said that you weren’t like Pandit ji in that regard.”

Mukundo sighed, “He hadn’t started with a silver spoon in his mouth. He can’t be blamed, can he?”

“Not at all. I don’t blame him. If my Baba was half as practical as him, our lives would have been different. I would have performed much earlier. With you…”

“Why didn’t you perform?”

“Don’t judge her for this, Mukundo Babu, but Ma hated the idea. The penury Baba had left us in, she couldn’t trust music to be the source of our livelihoods any more. ‘Even if the money comes,’ she would say, ‘It lasts as long as the fame does. And that can disappear any time.’”

“Can’t blame her. She is right.”

“Yes.”

“But she doesn’t mind now?”

“This job has helped, Mukundo Babu. It has turned things around. She feels much more secure now. Even if I had earned ten-times as much by performing, she wouldn’t have been at peace.”

They stayed silent for a while and then she picked up the original thread again. “It couldn’t have been your decision to end the marriage. What was her problem then, if not me? Your wife’s?”

“That I had stopped performing and was becoming a nobody.”

“Really?”

“Not exactly her words. But that’s what it had come down to ultimately.”

“And she left Sumedha behind?”

He nodded and they grew silent again.

He looked around when they reached the spinney and asked with a smile, “So, this is your favourite place in all of Darjeeling?”

“Yes.”

“And what do you do here?”

“I come here. And think about things, people, who are supposedly not a part of my life any longer.”

“I see. Like?”

“Like I thought about you. Training your students. Enchanting your audience with your performances. Preparing your daughter to carry forward your legacy.”

Mukundo averted his eyes. He had failed her.

“I was so angry at you, Mukundo Babu, when I saw Sumedha here and spoke to her. There was one thing I didn’t want to be responsible for. Taking her father away from her. And you made me guilty of that. I am sorry that your marriage broke down, but did you stop being a father? How could you send her away?”

“I failed you, I failed her, Piyali. But it wasn’t your doing. Why should you feel guilty?”

“You think that is satisfactory enough? Why had you stopped performing?”

“Piyali!”

“Last time it was one week that you didn’t talk to me and put me through hell. This time it has been five years that you didn’t talk to me and put everyone through hell. Why, Mukundo Babu?”

He took a few moments to start answering that, “I also thought about you, Piyali. A lot. I also imagined what your life was like. And I imagined you… Falling in love… With someone your age, suitable for you, who made you laugh, who made you happy, who didn’t rudely turn you away for being late by two minutes, someone whom your family approved. I imagined you as a bride, turning over a new leaf. I couldn’t imagine gate crashing this beautiful party and spoiling it all.”

Piyali got tears in her eyes. “Shut up,” was all she managed to say through her choked throat.

“When you turned up at the guest house yesterday, at my door, I forgot everything and hugged you. And then I felt like an idiot. How presumptuous I was being, after imagining all that through years! What if you were married? Or had someone in your life? Why was I behaving like we were professed lovers and you were waiting for me…”

She frowned at him and turned away muttering, “I hate you.”

“You should,” he came around so that they were face to face again, “Why aren’t you married yet? Engaged?”

“No. I am not,” she cried and showed him both her hands in irritation. There were no rings on any of the fingers, “What’s wrong with you? What do you want to hear?”

“I want to know. Why not? Surely your family would want you to…”

“Among other things, if you need a rational answer, it is this. I can’t get pregnant.”

“What?”

“Something, somewhere is weak and it can’t be cured,” she shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. Mukundo recalled the time when he had dropped her home and she had tried to look as nonchalant – about her poverty!

“Fine. But it doesn’t have to be the end of the deal, Piyali.”

“It is the end of the deal as far as arranged marriages are concerned. And I am not exactly going to fall in love… Again!”

“So, you won’t get married.”

“No,” she replied sounding annoyed.

“What will you do then? Become the mistress of a promiscuous artist?”

She didn’t see him smiling and reacted angrily, “I am not going to be anyone’s mistress.” Then she looked up and realized that he was teasing her. She bit her lips and started looking down.

He held her shoulder, “Piyali. I…”

She stepped back. “Don’t. Sumedha wants her mother back. She will never accept me.”

“But she wants me to propose to you.”

She looked up to find him smiling, while his eyes were moist. “You are not serious!” She was incredulous.

“She asked me if I loved you.”

She stared at him agape.

“Yes. That was my reaction too,” he chuckled slightly, “But she is old enough to understand.”

“What did she say?”

“She said that she had been stupid to expect her mother to be back. And that what she really wanted was… a family… A complete family. And she was all praises for you. More than I could ever have been. She loves you, Piyali. You have been so supportive to her. You have won her heart.”

Piyali’s eyes grew moist.

He smiled in amusement as he continued, “And she assured me that the gossip engine in the campus is strong enough for the students to know everything scandalous about the teachers. So, she was sure that you weren’t engaged, nor had a boyfriend.”

That made Piyali laugh. “This has to be the weirdest match-making possible.”

“You can’t imagine how weird it was for me. But I am not complaining. I have to be sure though. Will you marry me, Piyali Banerjee?”

“Yes,” she was laughing and crying at the same time.

“Will your mother agree?”

“She will have her issues. That’s her right. But if she came around for music, you are very eligible groom, Mukundo Babu. And anyway, when she knows…” She suddenly grew silent and thoughtful. She knew that once her mother gets to know about her problem, she would agree to any groom she could find, but…

“What happened?” Mukundo asked, worried.

“It… It was so stupid of me… That inability to get pregnant was not a joke, Mukundo Babu. Why did I assume it won’t matter to you…”

“I am curious. You had already known it when we had… That’s how you were sure that you won’t get pregnant.”

She nodded and recalled how emotionally he had reacted to the idea of their having a child. Her heart sank at the thought of his disappointment.

“That’s convenient, then, isn’t it?” he joked, “We don’t have to think about if, when, how many…”

“Mukundo Babu!”

“I am sorry. I didn’t mean to be crass. If you want a child, we will have one. Adoption, test-tube baby, surrogate whatever you want. But this isn’t the moment to be spoiled by thinking about all that, Piyali. I want you before anything else in life. Once I have you, I won’t need anything else in my life. Not even a child. I am not stuck up on carrying the legacy. It has wasted too much of my life.”

She leaned on him, hiding her face in his chest and he encircled her in his arms. He could already imagine the three of them practising together – him, Piyali and Sumedha. At five in the morning. Like old days. He smiled with satisfaction and closed his eyes.

– The End –

Piyali had checked on Sumedha. She was busy with her friends in the preparation for evening’s programme. Other teachers were helping with preparation of costumes and stage. Piyali figured that she could take a break before the final round of stage practice for musical event. She walked to the nearby guesthouse where Mukundo was staying and rang the bell with trembling hands.

Mukundo opened the door expecting it to be Sumedha and got the surprise of his life. Wordlessly he took her appearance in. She had changed. At twenty-five she looked like a mature woman compared to the twenty-year-old girl he remembered. Age and a more prosperous lifestyle, where she didn’t have to eat stale food for three of her four meals, and run around entire day between college, tuitions and music practice, had filled her up just right and it was accentuated by the warm clothes cold Darjeeling weather demanded.

His face contorted with overwhelming emotions. “Piyali!” he barely managed a whisper as a lump formed in his throat. Against his better judgement, he hugged her right there, at the door. She didn’t resist. The corridor was empty and no one was around.

“Oh my God,” he said as he released her, “I don’t know what am I doing. Will you… come in… Of course… Please come in…” He let her in and locked the door behind them. “Let me see you to my heart’s content,” he held her at arm’s distance, “You look well, Piyali.”

“But you don’t,” he was clean-shaven and well-groomed as usual. But years of neglect and depression was showing. He looked weak. His cheeks had grown hollow and there were dark circles around his eyes.

“I am just getting older,” he evaded.

“Hmm… Older indeed!” she didn’t know how to start talking to him about things that really mattered.

“Are you the music teacher, then? Was it your idea?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“The thought had occurred to me once. Darjeeling. Residential school. But I didn’t think you would be teaching music.”

“I am the Maths teacher actually. Filling up for the music teacher, because we have none right now.”

“Hmm…”

“Why did you stop performing, Mukundo Babu?”

His face darkened.

“So much happened, and you didn’t think it right to talk to me at least once? One letter? I had left you my address.”

Mukundo stayed silent. He wasn’t prepared for this meeting. He didn’t know where to start.

Piyali sighed and made to leave.

“You are going?” he asked miserably.

“I have to go right now. Mukundo Babu. I am planning to perform tonight. For the first time on stage. I am nervous, obviously. If you come on stage with me, it will make me very happy. This is a charity show; so do not expect to earn your usual remuneration. But I am still asking.”

—

Sumedha’s performance was over and she was sitting with her father in the audience. Piyali walked on the stage. She sought out her mother first. She almost looked happy today to see her on the stage. If her father had only been a little practical about life, Debangi might not have hated music after all. Then she sought Mukundo out. His eyes were glued to her.  She started the performance after silently seeking blessings from Goddess Saraswati, her father, her teacher Gayatri Devi, who was no longer alive, and him. There was a loud applause when her song ended. She sought him out again and saw him saying something to his daughter. Then they got up from their seats and started walking out. Her heart thumped like it had in the initial days of meeting him. She lingered around on the stage and surely! There he was. Walking on to the stage. She picked up the mike and made an announcement.

“Ladies and Gentleman. What I am going to announce now should result in voluntary doubling of revenue from this event.” It drew a chuckle from the audience and she continued after they were silent again, “The music lovers amongst you, even if you can’t recognize his face right now, would not fail to recognize his name. Today you are going to listen to the performance of Mukundo Thakur.” Piyali could feel the excited murmur of recognition from the audience. And then they broke into a louder applause than ever earlier during the programme. The other organizers were looking at each other is surprise.

She offered him the mike in case he wanted to say something. But he refused and took his seat on the stage. “You must stay,” he told her and she nodded. Putting the announcement mike back in its place, she sat down beside him and the performance started.

—

“Baba!” Sumedha ran excitedly to him and hugged him, “You are performing again?”

“Yes,” he ran his hand over her hair and replied with a smile.

“Will Ma come back, then? Can we go home?”

Mukundo blanched visibly and Piyali’s happy countenance also stiffened. She broke the awkward silence.

“You can’t just leave school in the middle of the term, can you Sumedha?” Piyali put up a smile.

Sumedha was old enough to know that she had reacted hastily. She changed the topic, “You are taking me out for dinner, aren’t you Baba? I am tired of the mess food.”

“Of course Shona. We can go right away,” his eyes silently apologized to Piyali for not spending the time with her. She blinked in assurance.

“You must also come, Miss,” Sumedha surprised them with her offer.

“Oh no! It’s your father-daughter time,” Piyali refused graciously.

“Please come. Without you…”

“Please,” Mukundo also added and Piyali could not refuse.

—

“Sumedha. Come in. What brings you here early in the morning? I thought you would be with your Baba.”

“I had just come to say thanks to you.”

“What for?”

“For making him perform. Now that everyone knows about Baba, I am suddenly a celebrity in the school. For being his daughter,” she smiled.

Piyali chuckled, “What did I do? You brought him here.”

“Yes. But you made him perform. It changes so many things…”

“Yeah… But Sumedha. About your mother…”

“I know. It was stupid of me, wasn’t it? She isn’t coming back.”

“You miss her, don’t you?”

“I don’t know. I just miss having a… family.”

Piyali’s heart went out to the girl. “Come here,” she gave her a tight hug. “Don’t worry. Things will be all right.”

“Miss. Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Do you think it was Baba’s fault that this… happened? This breaking down…”

“I don’t know what exactly happened, Sumedha. And I don’t want to judge your mother either. But I know that your father is a gem of a person. Even if it were his fault, in your place, I will forgive him.”

She smiled and nodded. “I will leave now, Miss. I am having breakfast with him.”

“Sure. Run along. And don’t bunk your classes.”

“I won’t. Bye Miss.”

—

To be continued

5 years later.

Piyali was surprised to hear her sing. That was Mukundo’s favourite way to use vivadi swar in his compositions. The school was organizing a charity show. Their music teacher had left before the term started and so for the time being she was filling up for her and auditioning students.

“What’s your name?” she asked after the girl finished performing.

“Sumedha Thakur.”

Piyali forgot to breathe for a moment.What was she doing here? Why would Mukundo Babu send his daughter to a hostel and not train her with him?

“You are well-trained in classical music,” she said hoping that she sounded casual.

“Thank you, Miss,” she replied. From their practice sessions, which she sometimes joined, Piyali remembered her as a vivacious child. Why was she looking so sad and sombre? Growing up? Homesickness?

“You have joined in this term?”

“Yes Miss.”

“Which class?”

“Standard eleventh.”

“That’s a tough one. So much to study. But I would really like you to perform a solo classical piece. You will need to practice a lot…”

“That won’t be a problem, Miss.”

Piyali smiled. Her father’s daughter! But what on earth was she doing here?

—

“Music doesn’t leave you, does it?” Debangi complained when Piyali returned to her house in teachers’ quarters. The house was a perk that came with the job. Debangi’s complain wasn’t like earlier. Now that Piyali had a stable job, which supported them fairly well, she wasn’t as insecure about music ruining their lives as she used to be. Piyali doubling up as the music teacher had made her days hectic; that was the only reason she worried about her.

Piyali smiled at her, “It is a Godsend, Ma. With the extra money, I can buy Priyendra’s laptop without digging into savings. Let’s pray that they don’t find a music teacher for the entire term.” Priyendra was now staying in Pune, pursuing his engineering degree.

“Hmm… And what about you? Do you plan to spend your entire life slaving for us?”

“What are you talking about? Who will I work for, if not you?”

“For yourself. Your own family.”

“Do I have a secret ‘own’ family tucked away somewhere?”

“You know what I mean. If your Baba had not left me so helpless and destitute, you would have been married long back, and I would be playing with a grandchild or two by now.”

“Ma. You can never stop worrying, can you? Until I had this job, you were worried about money. Until Priyendra had gotten admission, you were worried about his future. And now, grand children? Can’t we just be happy for a while? Life is good, isn’t it?”

“And we need to ensure that it remains good. You would need a partner, a support, family…”

“We will see when I feel the need for one.”

“It might be too late…”

“Then I would have learned to live on my own. Ma. Let this be final. I am not planning to get married. So you can cut short on your phone calls. I know what all of those have been for. But please. No. And even if you feel it is your responsibility to pester me, do not do it until Priyendra has finished his studies and gotten a job. I am not leaving you to your sewing and mending again.”

—

Piyali saw her sitting on the stairs in a less used part of the school building.

“Hello!”

She was startled and stood up abruptly. “Miss! Good morning, Miss.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I.. I was just going to the class.”

“Fourth period has started. Almost half-way through now. You have already bunked a class.”

She gulped. “I… I am sorry, Miss. I just didn’t…”

“Relax. Let’s sit down.”

She looked at Piyali incredulously.

“I am not encouraging you to bunk classes,” Piyali clarified. Damn the duties of a teacher! “But you have already bunked one. So, let’s sit down. I wanted to talk to you.”

Piyali sat down and Sumedha followed her gingerly.

“How is Mukundo Babu doing?” Piyali had checked her records and was now completely sure about who she was.

Sumedha was startled. “You know Baba?”

“I had known him. Some years ago. How is he?”

“He is… okay.”

“Did he come to drop you here?”

She shook her head, “Thakuma did.”

“And your Ma?”

Sumedha looked miserable at the question. Then she said slowly, “No. She didn’t come.”

“You miss home, don’t you?”

She nodded and grew emotional.

“Sumedha. What is it?”

She stayed silent.

“Tell me, darling. It’s all right,” five years of teaching and dealing with young students had given Piyali mature, motherly manners. Mukundo would have been surprised to see her like this.

“Nothing.”

“You would have been assigned a counsellor, right?” The school did that for all students.

“Yes.”

“Think of me as one too. Anything you tell me is strictly confidential.”

“How do you know Baba? Does he know you?”

Piyali smiled, “You know me too. You probably don’t remember. You were young. Your Baba and I used to practice. Early in the morning. At five. You were also there very often.”

Sumedha looked at her intently. “I remember… vaguely. Baba used to say you were very hard-working.”

“Like you. And I’m sure your Baba won’t mind if you shared your problems with me.”

She nodded. But before she could say anything, the bell rang.

“Next period. Don’t bunk this one. But will you meet me here, when the classes are over?”

“Yes Miss.”

“Good then. See you. Take care.”

—

Piyali comforted the sobbing girl and walked her to her hostel. She would need some time to come to terms with things herself. She stepped out of the campus. A mud path on the western side of campus led to a spinney. It was a secluded place and Piyali’s favourite spot to spend some quite, contemplative time. After seeing Sumedha off, she needed this time. Things had turned upside down in Mukundo’s life. He had stopped performing. His wife had left them. He still had students, but except for the practice time with them, he kept to himself, drinking and listening to records. The gloominess at the home had gotten to Sumedha, who had slipped into depression. She didn’t do well in her board exams. After that her grandmother had decided that hostel would be better than such home. “At least she would have some cheerful company of her friends,” she had said. Mukundo had been devastated, but he hadn’t objected. “I’m sorry. But your Thakuma is right. Study well,” he had told her when she was leaving for the hostel.

“Why?” Piyali had exclaimed more than questioned.

“I don’t know,” Sumedha had replied.

But Piyali knew – she thought so. How could you be so self-destructive, Mukundo Babu? She cried out loud when she was in her safe, secluded abode.

—

“Ask him to come here, Sumedha. Even if he doesn’t agree to perform, tell him to come and watch you perform.”

“He hadn’t agreed to come to drop me. He said he won’t be able to leave me behind.”

“He will come for the performance. Try it. Seeing him would make you happy, won’t it?”

“Shall I tell him about you?”

“No. Let that be a surprise.” Piyali was afraid that if Sumedha mentioned who her music teacher was, who wanted him to perform for charity, it would only deter him from coming.

“Miss,” Sumedha came back excitedly after making the call, “He is coming!”

Piyali hoped that she didn’t give away too much of her own emotions.

—

To be continued

She stood at the door, motionless. She wasn’t surprised that he was there in the practice room, and not in some other city. Holding a Tanpura. He started singing, and then stopped. He tried again and was unsuccessful. He grew frustrated and pushed the Tanpura away. He got up abruptly, but froze to his place on noticing her.

Her face was expressionless. So expressionless that it said volumes about how hurt and angry she was. She was breathing so hard that she had to bite her lips to keep her mouth closed. They stood staring at each other for several minutes. Then she broke the eye-contact and looked away. Keeping her gaze fixed on the ground, she started stepping back.

“Piyali!” he found his voice.

She didn’t heed him though and turned away to leave.

He gathered himself together and rushed after her. “Piyali. Please wait.”

She stopped for a moment, but started walking again.

Left with no option, he grabbed her hand to stop her from walking away. She pushed him away so ferociously that Mukundo barely avoided a fall. But he did brush against a bare pillar and got a scratch. It wasn’t too bad, but due to the suddenness, he let out a slight cry.

That little cry made her forget her anger temporarily. “Oh my God! What… What happened? Are you… hurt? Mukundo Babu…. I can hardly see anything here,” the corridor was not well-lit. She dragged him to the room and he followed quietly.

He stopped her when she bent down to check his injury. “Hurt me all you want, Piyali. But… you must not be hurt.”

“Yeah?” she grew angry again and was sarcastic, “And this is how you do not hurt me?”

“What happened… How do I… I cannot do the right thing by you. My wife… She is Pandit ji’s daughter.”

Piyali looked sideways to conceal her hurt. Of course, she didn’t measure up to the credentials of his wife. She was no Pandit ji’s daughter.

“He was my Guru. This marriage happened because he wanted it. Whatever happens, I won’t break it. It might be an irrational devotion, but…”

She looked back at him and smiled sadly. “And what did you think I will do? Was I going to blackmail you? Break your marriage? Make your life difficult?”

“Piyali!”

“Did it occur to you even once that I cannot hurt you? Ever? It wasn’t like I was going to get pregnant. And If I did, I would rather abort it than create trouble for you…”

“Don’t you dare!” he grabbed her arm so hard that she flinched in pain, “Don’t you dare talk about abortion if you are carrying our child.”

She fell speechless. He came to his senses and realized that he was hurting her. He let her go and let out a frustrated sigh.

“I have been an idiot all these days. But can’t you see, Piyali, how I feel? You are better off staying away from me.”

“No. I am not.”

“What do you want then? You want to become the mistress of another promiscuous artist?”

“Why are you talking like this, Mukundo Babu?” she was on the verge of crying.

“Go away from me. You are young. And I am not a good influence on you.”

She bit her lips, controlled her tears and said, “Yes. Your wish will be fulfilled. I am going away from you. That was the news I had for you on that fateful day.”

“What?” Mukundo had been pleading her for this, but when she said it herself, he panicked. “What do you mean? What news? Where are you going?” She wasn’t getting married, was she?

“I got a job. In Darjeeling. It’s a residential school. As soon as my final exams get over, I’d be going there. That is, in five weeks.”

“What job?”

“Teaching Mathematics. And possibly some responsibilities for running the hostels.”

He was at a loss for words.

“I’m going away, Mukundo Babu. You won’t be bothered by me. All I wanted was to spend some of this time with you. Singing, practicing, learning whatever I can in this limited time.”

“You can’t just go away. You can’t abandon music. You can find a job in Kolkata.”

“Nothing I had here paid well enough.”

“You… can’t… just… go away… like this…”

“You have put me through one week of hell to impress upon me that I should go away. And now you are saying this?”

“I’m selfish, am I not? When I had pushed you away, somewhere deep down, I knew I could have you back. I would have – sooner or later… But now… now that you are saying you are going away…”

“It is for everyone’s good, isn’t it?”

He sighed and changed the subject, “I haven’t been able to sing at all in last one week. Would you like to practice?”

She brought the Tanpura and asked him if he had set the alarm.

“Not needed. Nobody is coming yet.”

—

“Why haven’t your other students started coming?” she asked after a three-hour-long practice about a week later.

“I have only four more weeks with you, right?”

Piyali smiled sadly. “If it matters so much, why have you thrown away your mobile? How will I keep in touch with you?”

“Don’t. Don’t keep in touch with me.”

“That’s so unfair, Mukundo Babu.”

“May be when you come here. During holidays or…”

“If I settle down, Ma and Priyendra are going to shift there too. I won’t be coming here, Mukundo Babu,” her eyes grew moist.

“That’s even better,” he said and tore his eyes away from her. He couldn’t be this cruel to her, and to himself, if he looked into those eyes.

“I don’t want to break your marriage. And even more importantly, I don’t want to take a loving father away from a daughter. But we and all these other things in your life need not be incompatible. I might be going away. But I am not abandoning us. You just have to call me…”

“Forget about all this. Move on in your life. Just… don’t abandon music. Ever!”

“Let me know when you move on. I will also do so then.”

He chuckled sadly, “What do I move on to?”

“Same here.”

—

And there were times when he grew desperate and faltered on his resolution of sending her away.

“If it’s just the money that is taking you away… All you have to do is agree to perform.”

“I can’t, Mukundo Babu. If I could, I wouldn’t have suffered your anger earlier.”

“Fine. Don’t. How much are you earning there? What if I managed that much for you…”

“Mukundo Babu!”

“Money is something I can easily help you with.”

“I am not going to be your mistress.”

“Piyali!”

“You have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Probably… you are right. Don’t listen to me. Don’t. Just… Do take care of yourself, Piyali.”

“I will. And you should too. Promise me.”

“Okay… I will,” his promise sounded much less certain than hers. And then he asked anxiously, “You won’t be pregnant, would you?”

“No.”

—

To be continued

“I have never felt this way about anyone, Sonali.”

“I’m sure you haven’t. Because I have never seen you this reckless.”

“I will leave now.”

“Have breakfast with us.”

“No. I will go home.”

But as soon as she came out of Sonali’s house, she received his message. “Where are you? No college today, right?”

A smile formed on her lips as she replied. In the next message he sent her the address of the place where they would have breakfast. It was nearby and she walked up to there.

—

She didn’t have a new dress to wear on her birthday this year.  So, she was surprised when he wished her. “Happy Birthday, Piyali.”

“You… you remembered?”

“I haven’t grown senile yet,” he said good-humouredly, “I have a decent memory.”

“Who said anything about senility?” she flushed.

He didn’t notice the tinge of sadness in her voice. “Come with me,” he motioned her to follow him. They were going to his personal room again.

He set his alarm for 5.45 and brought out Pandit ji’s Sitar. She sat down with it, but could not proceed. Tears started flowing down her cheeks.

“Piyali!”

Hearing his voice made it worse and her silent tears turned into sobs.

He went forward, took the Sitar away and held her. He tried to wipe off her tears, but lost control of himself. It didn’t help that she didn’t resist and gave in willingly, when he gathered her in his arms and lowered her on the carpeted floor. Touching her pliant body, feeling the goose bumps on her skin, licking away her tears and crushing on her quivering lips was intoxicating. He wasn’t aware of his surroundings, nor was she. Later he would only have vague memories of when it happened, when he collapsed on top of her and when they drifted off the sleep in each other’s arms. It was his alarm that woke them up.

“Oh God!” he muttered as he sprang back from her. He looked at her with confused expressions. She closed her eyes and he put on his discarded clothes. “Everyone will be here soon,” he said still not expressing exactly how he was feeling. Probably he himself didn’t know. With that he left. He would need washing up before he went before others, if he didn’t want to give away…

Piyali’s feelings were a strange mix of fear and fulfilment. It was disastrous, reckless, as Sonali would say. And yet… She considered going to the regular practice room to be there with others. But she looked at her clothes and her matted hair. It would be like declaring to the entire world what had transpired just now. She got dressed and smoothened her clothes and hair as much as possible. Then she quietly walked out of the house, unaware of Aporna watching her from the garden. ‘Mukundo Babu was unwell,’ she would explain to her mother. Debangi would grumble as to why he could not have informed earlier instead of making her wake up at four for no reason. But that was fine. She could live with that. Tougher would be to concentrate on teaching students, and listening to professors in her classes.

—

She had almost given up on hearing from him and was thinking of calling him or sending him an SMS, when her phone rang. It was a landline number.

“Mukundo Babu wanted me to call all his students to tell them that he is going out of town for a while. So, there will be no classes. He would inform once he is back.”

“What… Where is he going?”

“I don’t know, Madam,” it was some house staff who was tasked with informing everyone. Including her!

She immediately tried his number. It was switched off. What was she to make of it?

—

She had spent last seven days obsessively sending him messages. She was tired now. Of trying to make sense of things, and of people who constantly asked her what was wrong. Was it the time to admit to Sonali, who always looked at her with questioning eyes, but never said anything, that she had been right? It was a disaster.

Her house didn’t even afford her enough privacy to cry. She had learned to control it. But when she woke up that morning, she felt like she would go mad if things continued this way. She went out and looked for Salim Kaku. He wasn’t yet asleep and readily agreed to drop her.

“Mukundo Babu is back?” he asked cheerfully.

“Yes Kaku.”

“Now, I think you would smile again. You seem to be withering away without your morning practice,” he teased her. She managed to smile back without bursting into tears.

—

To be continued

He switched on the phone listlessly. There was a new message. Must be some alert from bank, or investment advisors, or some useless telemarketer. He went to the message-box to delete it, but was greeted by an unexpected sight. The message was from her! He held his breath as he opened it. What could she have to say? Even though they had each other’s mobile numbers since the very beginning, they hadn’t called or messaged at all. There hadn’t been a need.

“Thank you!” That was all the message said, but he was no longer annoyed with himself. It was sent soon after she had left, probably while she was in the bus to her student’s place.

“What for?” he typed and pressed ‘send’.

He looked at the clock. Will she respond now? What would she be doing at the moment? If she started her tuition at 8.30, she would still be there. She may not…

The phone beeped.

“For caring. And for everything. I will take care of my voice, I promise.”

“And of yourself too. Both are precious.” He replied. If he had stopped to think about what he was doing, he would have restrained himself. But he was too elated to listen to that little corner of his mind where some caution resided.

She sent a smiling-face emoticon in return.

He was restless and could not stay at home. After lunch, he went out and drove around the city pointlessly. He went to Garia haat and then to the place where he had dropped her. He didn’t know where exactly her house was. Then, on an impulse, he drove to her college. Some class had gotten over. Several students were coming out of the college gate. He hoped to see her among them. But she wasn’t there. It might not be her class. He drove back home, his mood slightly dampened, but by no means unhappy.

—

He spent a good fifteen minutes talking to her next morning before starting their practice. And realized that her day was packed. After the morning practice, she went to give tuition at 8.30; then rushed to college. She gave three more tuitions after college. The couple of hours she had in between she spent in the city library near college catching up on her studies. Sometimes she went to Sonali’s house, which was also nearby, and practised there. And when she didn’t feel like either studying or practising, they spent time in the park next to city library. She would reach home by eight, study a little, eat and then sleep by ten to be able to get up at four in the morning.

“Where do you eat?”

“Ma cooks for me at night itself. I carry the tiffin.”

“Breakfast as well as lunch?”

“And evening snacks,” she chuckled, “Going back home in between would waste too much of time.”

“Hmm…” There was no way he could ask her to find more time for himself. But he could find time for her!

—

“Hello!”

“Mukundo Babu!” Piyali sprang out of the chair she was sitting on. Was she dreaming? Had she started thinking so much about him that she was imagining him in the city library?

“Me indeed!”

She shook her head and smiled. She wasn’t hallucinating. He was indeed there.

“I was passing by,” he lied, “And figured you would be here.”

She stood silent smiling politely.

“Am I disturbing you?”

“No. No. Not at all. Sonali was not around today. So, I came here, even though I didn’t feel like studying at all.”

“Let’s go out then. It is difficult to talk here,” talking was not encouraged in the library and they were speaking in hushed voices.

“Okay,” she felt her heart thumping and tried to maintain outward calm.

They ran into Sonali on their way out of the library.

“Piyali, did you know…” she stopped in her tracks on realizing that her friend had company. She had seen his photographs in the papers and had also attended some of his stage performances. But it took her a moment to identify him so closely, in person.

Piyali gulped hard and introduced him. “Sonali. Mukundo Babu.”

“Yes. Of course,” Sonali laughed nervously, “Who doesn’t know him? Nomoshkaar, Mukundo Babu.”

“Nomoshkaar,” Mukundo replied with a politeness that surprised Piyali. He hadn’t been like that with her in their initial meetings.

“I… I just came to tell you that tomorrow college is off. There is a strike,” Sonali addressed her friend.

“Again?”

Sonali shrugged, “Anyway. I will get going… You are busy.”

“We were just going for some coffee,” Mukundo interjected, “Why don’t you join us?” Piyali looked at Mukundo questioningly. Were they? Going for coffee? But he was looking at Sonali.

“Thanks, Mukundo Babu. But I need to be at home. So, I will excuse myself. Bye.”

Piyali silently followed him and hesitated when they reached his car. The memory of her last encounter with the car was still fresh. Mukundo also recalled that and smiled. He unlocked the car with remote key and walked to the passenger door. “Let me do it for you,” he said and opened the door.

Piyali flushed, but smiled and got in. He closed it after her, walked to the other side, got in the car and they drove off to a nearby coffee shop. She asked him to order for her too. He ordered two cappuccinos and some French fries. While they waited for coffee, he asked her about the time and location of her next tuition.

“I will drop you,” he declared and she didn’t object. She didn’t feel like objecting to anything he said. She was experiencing the exhilaration of first love – without quite being consciously aware of it.

She almost choked on the first sip of coffee.

“What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on.”

“This is… very bitter…”

“Strong,” he chuckled and corrected her.

“I have never had coffee like this earlier.”

“No? What kind of coffee have you had?”

Coffee was a luxury at home. The instant coffee’s bottle was kept in fridge to keep it from forming lumps and a little was poured in the milk when some special guests came.

“Much milkier… I think…” she tried to answer.

“Do you prefer tea? We can order one…”

“No… No. Let’s not waste it. I will put more sugar.”

“Excuse me,” he called the waiter, “Can we have some milk on the side?”

“Sure Sir.”

“Don’t put more sugar,” he said, “You need milk.”

“I mess up every time, don’t I?”

“What do you mean?”

“The car door. Now the coffee…”

“I’m sure I would fumble much worse if I had to give Maths tuitions to unwilling kids. Liking your coffee milkier is actually quite all right.”

She blushed and smiled. “I had never thought that you could so…”

“So?”

“So… easy going and.. approachable.”

“I see. Do I look like a monster or what?”

“You look all right. It’s the way you talked. Not a hint of smile. Always ready to criticize.”

“That isn’t going to change, Piyali. If a teacher isn’t critical…”

“I know. I am not complaining. Not at all.”

—

“Good morning,” since she didn’t have to go to college after tuition, she went to Sonali’s house. The feverish anticipation and excitement she carried with her all the time these days was making her restless. So, she sought out her friend’s company. But as soon as she reached there, it occurred to her that it was a bad idea. She couldn’t possibly talk to Sonali about it.

“Hello,” Sonali greeted her as she entered her bedroom, “What’s up?”

Piyali slumped on her bed and blurted, “Don’t say anything about it, Sonali.”

“Okay… I assume you are talking about last evening. I wasn’t going to say anything. Because I don’t think you will listen to me. But since you have brought it up yourself, you do realize that there is something to be said about.”

“I haven’t done anything,” Piyali pretended defiance.

“No? Why are you pleading me to stay silent then?”

“Sonali!”

“I am not saying anything. I do not know anyone who is more responsible than you are…”

“Don’t you often say that I am too uptight? That I should loosen up… Enjoy?”

“Sure! And if you have to enjoy, go flirt with someone in the college. There is no dearth of suitors for you. This isn’t loosening up, Piyali. This is disaster.”

—

To be continued